Jen's Ramblings

Happy Thanksgiving!

2011-11-25T17:27:00.000-05:00

I know its a day late, but when this video showed up on my Facebook News Feed today I casually pressed play as I got up to do something unrelated. I decided it was awesome about a minute in so I sat down to watch the accompanying video and much to my surprise: the guy playing guitar/singing is an old college friend I haven't seen/heard from in years! Well done, Greg Dolmage: its good to see you're still doing and creating pure awesomeness. :)

Happy Thanksgiving!!

November Gratitude Challenge

2011-11-05T21:07:00.001-04:00

It started last year, and I loved watching many of my friends spend the month of November updating their facebook status every day with something they were thankful for.

Not just anything, though. We're all thankful for friends and family (or we should be). We all appreciate a good meal. The November Gratitude Challenge is about more than that. Its about remembering to be thankful in moments that catch you off guard. Like... why might you be thankful for screaming children or the train car that was so full I had to wait for the next one even though I'm already running late. Its an opportunity to take time and use energy to be reminded of the gifts and beauty of life that we encounter each day.

So I've taken the challenge. At least half of the time, I remember to post what I'm thankful for on Facebook (I'm also keeping a journal). One example is that as I curse the cooler weather that is rolling in (cold = less cycling = sad!!), I have stopped to appreciate living in a place that has four distinct seasons again. The red and gold of the leaves are absolutely radiant! It literally took my breath away as I rode my bike to work one cool morning... I rolled up to work with the nation's Capitol a few blocks directly in front of me, colorful surrounding me on all sides, paving the way as I rode along. I couldn't help but stop and take a moment to appreciate the simplistic, everyday beauty I encounter and so seldom stop to appreciate.

When its possible (and I'm not on my bike), I'm even trying to take photos of some of these things. Like this photo - again of leaves as their radiating color stood boldly against the bright blue sky as I came up out of a metro stop near my house.

Isn't God's creation amazing?

Consider this an invitation to join me in the challenge. November is a month that we Americans think about being thankful because my favorite (secular) holiday - Thanksgiving - is just around the corner. But lets not let it just be for a day this year. Lets allow it to seep into us for the whole month of November... lets let it shape us and become a part of who we are beyond needing a holiday to be thankful.

Let us be thankful together. I'm thankful already for the way it is shaping my daily life.

A Day to Remember

2011-10-16T22:18:00.004-04:00

I've had a lot of memorable days in my life. Yesterday was definitely one of those days when even in the midst of it, I kept saying, "I can't believe this is happening! What a great day!"

Why was it a great day?

First, its a great weekend: my friend Lyzz (from the '09 Ride:Well Tour) is here to visit! She arrived on Thursday morning and didn't leave until tonight (Monday). That being said: yesterday was an especially stellar day.

The morning started by meeting my friend Anna for a coffee (straight espresso for me!). Then we were off to the occasion of the morning: The White House garden party. Evidently, the White House opens up its garden twice a year (fall and spring) to "special guests." By invitation only, the "general public" are invited into the White House grounds to see the gardens. My friend Anna is a senior staff person for a Senator, and through work she obtained tickets to this party and kindly invited me along - also saving a ticket for my weekend visitor. :)

Entering the White House grounds was surreal. As crowds gathered on the sidewalk two fences and a street away from the beginning of the grounds, we passed through security guards by simply showing them a slip of paper and letting them look in our bags. The next thing we knew, we were looking at trees on the grounds planted by presidents past. As we stood next to the East Wing admiring Jacqueline Kennedy Garden we saw a big fluffly black dog appear: sure enough! It was Beau - the first dog!

We took photos posed feet from the main door. We admired the Rose Garden as we wondered if Obama was sitting in his Oval Office only feet away from us. We decided such a question was answered when security suddenly seemed to double and one of Obama's senior staff persons walked past. :)

The grounds were beautiful and I am greatly appreciative of such an opportunity for a tour. The gardens, the flowers, the trees, the vegetable garden, the naval band playing, the incredibly friendly staff and volunteers - all of it - was great. A huge thank you to is in order to all the volunteers who put the event on: and of course to Anna for thinking of me as a worthy guest!

Leaving we kind of thought to ourselves: now what? How does one spend a day when we've already been on the White House grounds?

Back to Plan A, we decided. Originally, Lyzz came this weekend so we could go to the official dedication of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Junior Memorial. The first memorial in DC to an individual who was not a president (and not white), this is an event that has been much anticipated since its original opening in August - when this event was canceled due to Hurricane Irene. We were late, but hoped it would be ongoing and decided to take our chances as we began the 2 mile walk to the memorial.

Fortunately, we arrived to discover it had not ended. As we drew near, Lyzz wondered aloud, "is that James Taylor? He can't possibly be playing live, could he?" She excitedly ran ahead and I caught up to her in time to discover: Yes! James Taylor.

Seriously: James Taylor? Does it get better than this? As we soaked in another song he announced it would be his last and we sighed as we realized we missed most of the set. Surely the event was over: it was nearly 2pm.

Oh, were we mistaken. On and on we went: we also saw short performances by Stevie Wonder, Sheryl Crow and others. It ended in an encore of countless artists singing "Love Train" together. Only one word can describe this experience of singing, dancing, and celebrating together in a huge but not congested crowd: AMAZING

After a stroll through my favorite memorial (Theodore Roosevelt!) and then to see the new MLK Memorial, we eventually walked our way back through part of the national mall. We landed in a pub for dinner before finally making our way home where we had ice cream for dinner as we crashed lazily on the couch watching a movie.

Pretty close to a perfect day, if I might say so myself. Or at the very least, a memorable one!

'Tis the Season...

2011-10-12T11:05:00.000-04:00

The seasons are a-changing. The leaves are starting the change, the rain is falling more often, and the temperatures are dropping.

What does all of this mean?

That its time to drink more tea, of course!

I've been LOVING drinking lots of rooibos tea that reminds me of "home" in South Africa. A touch of sweetener and a bit of milk (soy or almond, of course), and its perfect!

Recently, I've also been on a Chamomile kick. A friend shared her favorite brand of tea a few weeks ago, and it was so good my mouth waters for it just thinking about it!! (I mostly use bags, but as usual, they say the loose tea is better! I just need a nicer tea pot).

So rather than hold out on you as I sip my tea this morning, I'm going to encourage you: get some! I (obviously) highly recommend the chamomile tea from Adagio Teas. But to be fair: I haven't tried the others yet. I did order some peach iced tea... but I haven't tried it yet. Looking for a sweet deal? Leave me your email address and I can email you a $5 gift certificate for first-time customers.

I know I sound like an advertisement: but 'tis the season to drink tea! So I'm just doing my part to help you along. The gift certificates are free to send - and who doesn't love free money!? :)

Bidding Farewell

2011-09-29T16:06:00.002-04:00

Today is an occasion for celebration. I havne’t worked for MFSA for long (nearly 6 months), but I have loved getting to know my co-workers in that time.

Today is the day that Rob, our current office manager, leaves us. On the best of terms, of course: he leaves us for his retirement!

I’m excited for Rob as he enters the next phase of his life. I'm excited for him to say goodbye to office work and early mornings with long commutes (he rises at 3am to get here in time!). I’m also sad to bid farewell to a friend whose physical presence I’ve been able to rely on in an office that is often “mobile” as many of us travel for work.

Most of all: I’m going to miss this:
Rob’s door.

Every day, Rob reads comics. Sometimes, he finds great ones worth posting. This is only part of the collection of “worthwhile” comics Rob has found throughout his time working at MFSA. I hope he doesn’t take it down!

Today: we celebrate. We celebrate Rob – his work, his commitment, his colleagueship, the next chapter of his life. And we do it the best way anyone could:

With food!

Last night I spent the evening baking for just this occasion: I made banana bread, cookies, and, at his request, even chocolate cupcakes with chocolate icing. This is my sacrifice and gift today: I managed enough restraint not to sample any of the chocolate (reminder: I am allergic to cocoa and sugar: both of which are potent in these delicious cupcakes!).

Off I must go now to celebrate, as our party begins and our lunch will be delievered soon.

Congrats on your retirement, Rob: you’ll be missed!

A Cooking Fool

2011-09-25T19:21:00.000-04:00

In an effort to avoid the many foods I am either allergic to or have build up food intolerance against, a little over a month ago I begrudgingly started a whole foods diet. And while it hasn't yet given all the perks I hoped it would (like dropping a few pounds), I must admit: I do feel better!

There are downsides to every major change, of course. This change comes with a huge financial burden of eating whole, organic, natural (and lots of raw!) foods that unfortunately cost more than the oh-so-easy processed foods (and we wonder why America is so overweight!?). It also requires a lot of time and intentionality, meaning that most of my evenings are spent cooking.

Fortunately for me, I love to cook, and while it of course would be nice not to HAVE to do it every day, it often provides a great form of stress relief. Which means I should be entirely stress-free after the past month! ;)

This weekend has been particularly busy as I have spent the weekend trying out new recipes. This weekend I have made for the first time (or the first time allergy free):

Sushi (with veggies: raw fish at home seems to risky!)
Pancakes
Waffles
Homemade vegetable broth
Carrot soup with tofu (delicious!)
Vegetable stew (with sweet potatoes!)
Mayonnaise
Bedouin Bread

The best part? ALL of these foods - except the sushi and mayo - freeze well! So I've made big batches, divided it up, and now I can have "convenience food" I can actually eat!

I've also made turkey burgers and sweet potato fries. These - with a salad, of course, will be dinner tonight.

Sure... its better fresh (though not necessarily with the soup!), but now I can have options on nights I just don't feel like cooking. Like the good 'ol days. :)

All this talk about food... I'm off to eat my delicious dinner...

They're Going to Kill My Friend

2011-09-22T10:45:00.001-04:00

Today I am without words as I mourn the loss of a life. The death penalty is never acceptable ("Thou Shalt not Kill") - but in cases of such doubt, the ring of travesty echos on. Troy Davis, you will be remembered: and may your story live on into a new chapter of change and progress.

I leave you with the words of a friend who was intricately involved with Troy's case for years, and whose words are more eloquent than my own.

They're Going to Kill My Friend
by Rev. Karl Kroger
(Written for the Pierre, SD Newspaper (www.capjournal.com) for September 23, 2011)

As I write this, a man I deeply care about is about to be executed. Unless a miracle occurs, when you read this, Troy Davis will be dead. Despite overwhelming evidence that casts doubt on his conviction, the powers that be in the state of Georgia are not concerned. Though Troy Davis and I have never met, I consider Troy Davis my friend. What do you do when someone is about to kill your friend?

Three years ago, while helping with a colleague’s youth retreat, I felt the call of God to help save a man’s life. In between the boat rides and the campfires, I could not stop thinking about the very real possibility that Georgia might execute someone who was innocent.

It seemed as if very few people even cared that the criminal justice system might have gotten it wrong. It seemed as if a flawed conviction only mattered, if it personally affected you. For most of the people and most of the churches in Georgia, permanently punishing the wrong man was not important.

But it was important to me. How as a society could such an ugly distortion of justice be tolerated? Furthermore, what if it was you or me, who was wrongly accused of a crime, and no one cared? Wouldn’t we want people to wake up and demand that all the facts be taken into account?

Praying for God to lead and guide me, trusting in the Holy Spirit to convict my heart, and compelled by Jesus’ command to love my neighbor, I surrendered myself to God to be used for the Kingdom. And so began my intense battle to save Troy Davis’ life.

Soon I began calling upon people to pray, to fight, and to offer advice. Within days, I recruited a few seminary friends to join me in the fight. We then rallied our seminary and our entire university, joining in with the people all across Atlanta, the state of Georgia, and around the world.

Momentum began to build and we started working with other organizations already fighting for Troy, including the NAACP, Amnesty International, and Georgian’s for Alternatives to the Death Penalty. The state was committed to killing Troy Davis, but we were determined to do everything we could to stop them.

And because of our actions, the intervention of the courts, and miracles, we did; three execution dates were put on hold. The instantaneous shouts of joy and songs of praise on those days were glorious! Millions of people worked to save Troy Davis’ life. We marched and we protested, we held vigils and we prayed, and we wrote letters and hung banners on the freeway.

All of the details of the case, the trials and appeals, the four execution dates are too lengthy to expound upon here. You should know however, that Troy Davis was found guilty of killing a cop, Officer Mark MacPhail. His death was wrong and is extremely tragic.

This week I watched as MacPhail’s daughter Madison, just a toddler at the time of her father’s death, spoke about the pain of growing up without a dad. She said there was something not right about living beyond your father’s final age. He died when he was only 27 years old.

As a Christian, I take seriously Jesus’ commands to love God and love my neighbor. Love, peace, kindness, and goodness are fruit of the Spirit and they are values of the Kingdom. They are part of the ways of God and they stand in contrast to murdering and executing people. Christians don’t all agree on that unfortunately, but surely we can agree that executing someone who is innocent or who has a strong case of innocence is stupid, unjust, and evil.

I grieve for Troy Davis, for his mother Virginia who died last year. What privilege to have known, embraced, and prayed with a woman of such grace and love. I grieve too for Officer MacPhail’s death, and for the pain his family still bears. May God bring healing and comfort to them.

Tonight my friend is scheduled to die. My heart breaks, but my hope is in Jesus Christ. And I know Troy’s is as well.

--------

Editor's Note: Despite the cry of thousands across the world for justice on behalf of Troy, the Supreme Court denied requests for a stay of execution. The state of Georgia executed Troy Anthony Davis, pronouncing him dead at 11:08pm on Thursday, September 21. May Troy's Spirit rest in the hands of God, and may God have mercy on us all...
----

Rev. Karl Kroger's extensive work on behalf of Troy Davis began as a Candler School of Theology student in 2008. This advocacy inspired thousands to get involved with Troy's case and eventually led to Karl being awarded with Emory University's prestigious Humanitarian Award in 2009. Karl now resides in Pierre, South Dakota, where he is the pastor of Southeast Pierre United Methodist Church.

A Decade Later

2011-09-11T16:05:00.011-04:00

A lot has changed in the last 10 years.

Like any other American I’ve ever talked to, I still remember vividly every detail of this day ten years ago. I remember where I was at 9:47am EST. I remember what I was wearing. I remember who I was with. I remember how I felt, and the overwhelming confusion and disbelief I experienced as the day seemed to move in slow motion.

It amazes me how much I remember about that day, and how the days, weeks and even months that immediately followed seemed to do so in slow motion. I was, after all, still a child. A youth of 17 years that thought I was all grown up and ready to take on the world. I had just begun my senior year of high school, and I was excited about venturing out into the world I (thought I) knew as I prepared for graduation the following May.

Yes, I remember it all with amazing detail. And yet it isn’t the details alone that I keep thinking about today: its how those details shaped, molded, changed me from the inside out. And in a strange way that I haven’t quite figured out how to articulate, I can’t help but be honest and say that I am grateful for the ways I have changed as a result of this terrible tragedy.

My eyes were immediately opened up to a world beyond my local community: I’ll confess I’d never gone out of my way to engage with national or global news, and it wasn’t readily available in the small, contently isolated town I lived in. For the first time, I realized there was a world of people out there who hated my country I’d been raised to love, and even more difficult was the realization that those people also hated me, purely because of where I was born. They didn’t know that really, I was a good person and didn’t want to do anyone harm. And they didn’t care about the individual stories of the people in those planes, the World Trade Center, or the Pentagon, either. Following from this realization, I also had another first: for the first time, I began to question our administrators, Republican politicians (I’d been raised to always question Democrat ones), and “defense” techniques.

I had a lot of questions.

The most powerful questions I immediately and unexpectedly faced came from my adversity to the hatred I was surrounded by. In the following days, weeks, and now years, I heard many racial slurs and ethnocentric statements referring to all people from the Middle East - especially “those Muslims.” I admittedly didn’t know the first thing about the Middle East or the politics around it. But Muslims? I kept hearing how terrible and hate-filled and anti-America they all were… and yet I couldn’t forget the details of my morning of September 11.

I couldn’t forget that since it was my first day back to school post-knee surgery, I got there early so I didn’t have to fight the hallway traffic on my crutches. I was just getting settled when my friend Basim came running in going on about details about some big accident at The World Trade Center in New York City. He turned the television on and we watched in horror as one building burned… and seconds later we watched the second plane go into the other tower…

I remember the details of lots of emotion, horror, confusion and fear that followed. I remember crying together with that small class, Basim included. and I remember that he was as confused and sad as any of us. I also remember that Basim seemed to fill in gaps for the many questions I had in my admittedly naive awareness of the world. You see: Basim already had a global perspective. I’d never thought much of it before, but Basim was from Pakistan. And he is a dedicated to his faith tradition: Islam. I had always respected him for this, especially in our white, “Christian” community.

So if Basim (and his family) were the only Muslims I’d ever met, and they were great, trustworthy, honorable people: then how could the world suddenly be afraid of and full of hate toward all Muslims? That certainly wasn’t my experience…

My naive questions have proven to be incredibly formative in the years since then. Instead of buying into the fear I’ve been sold, I have continued on living my life... working adamantly against that dreaded 4-letter F-word: Fear. Instead, I work toward living into Faith... and the love of ALL God has called us to...

I made the mistake of stopping and watching television for about 5 minutes this morning. I took a moment to mourn with the mourners. To listen to the sad voices reading names. To hear an interview clip from “the last survivor” who was pulled from the rubble. These stories are moving, and sad, and did their job of making me emotional, bringing me to tears as I relived those dreadful moments with the rest of the country…

and then I walked away. I couldn’t watch any more. I don’t want to forget (I never could) - but it isn’t healthy to re-live it, either. It was a terrible enough day to live through once. We can’t do it every year. I know I can’t. Not even on the 10th anniversary.

But I couldn’t let my sadness go, and I couldn’t figure out why.

So I moved on and walked to my boarding gate to take a seat. That’s right: my boarding gate. Today, on a day that most of my fellow citizens are most afraid to fly, I am not only flying, but flying into Washington DC’s National Airport: where my plane will touch down on a landing strip right next to the now fully-repaired Pentagon…

Why fly today? For one, I’ll be honest: it was convenient. and I didn’t really think about it when I booked the flight. I did realize it in plenty of time to have changed it: but why? To let fear win? I do not believe in fear. Especially not this irrational, media-induced fear we have been sentenced to live with. On the contrary, lets be honest: security is so high today that it’s probably one of the safest days to fly.

So I am on my plane as I write this. And as I do so in an intentional stance of my rejection of the fear many want me to have, I do remember those whose lives were lost in 2001. But my sadness does not stop there.

Instead, most of my sadness is focused on the survivors. It is wrapped up in remembering victims of the fear-induced hatred that has engulfed and changed so many of my fellow American citizens.

The country I live in and that I am proud to be a citizen of is one whose citizens spent hours building sandbag walls around every house in my home community when they were threatened with flood waters. It is one that wasted no time arriving to help victims of the multitude of tornadoes that hit this past spring… And that took care of and celebrated with my teammates and I small town after small town when we were hot, hungry, thirsty and exhausted while riding our bicycles across America in the heat of summer.

That is my favorite picture of the America I love. It is vast and diverse and embraces the joy of community as we were able to realize that really: no matter where you come from, we are more alike than different.

The America I truly love is the one that opened my eyes up to the reality of the world as I watched the Twin Towers fall. As I watched people on the other side of the world dancing in the streets because we were suffering (an image I regrettably saw in reverse when Osama Bin Laden was killed…), I knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of such hatred for the first time. Living in my naive bubble in my small town in South Dakota, I really did not know that people hated our country, culture and people until that day.

So as we look back an talk about “10 years later” - that is what I keep thinking about. About how fear and anger have consumed much of our society. I wonder (perhaps hope?): is this the same as it has always been, and my eyes are more open to it now? Or, is there something we can do to stop it.

It all starts with one. As I sit aboard my American Airlines flight into DCA, I renew my pledge with you - all people of the internet (who are still reading). A pledge to do more to “act justly and love mercy” - and to walk HUMBLY with the God who has been so full of love, justice, and mercy for me.

Won’t you join me? I promise, the world will be a better place...

Detoxing

2011-08-10T19:27:00.003-04:00

Today I officially started my detox.

It did occur to me as I rolled my nauseated and exhausted self out of bed for a 5:40am bike ride that this might not be the best day to start. But then I decided I could probably find an excuse not to start every day if I looked for one. So: there’s no time like the present.

I’m not gonna lie: I think its going to be tough. Not because its impossible, but because while I’m detoxing I’m also starting a new routine of supplements that I have to take. And on days like today, when I wasn’t feeling well anyway, it seemed impossible not to be thinking about the food I could (or could not) eat. All. Day. Long.

It also doesn’t help that the day just plain started off wrong: I eat cereal for breakfast every morning!! Its a routine I’ve had for years and LOVE. I don't even eat the sugar-packed ones: I am partial to Weetabix and Puffins Peanut Butter and Honey Nut Cheerios (ok, maybe more sugar in those). Sugar-packed or not: they have some… and they’re processed, naturally.

Detox = no processed food.

This will be good for me, I remind myself.

But my rhythm was off. The oats didn’t go down well with my upset tummy so I didn’t finish them. Which means I was hungry early.

A snack? No… I didn’t really have anything at the office I could snack on. So I settled for an early lunch. Of a (delicious, actually!) salad.

The problem? Salad doesn’t have as much sustenance as I’m used to, and I ate early… so I was hungry again by mid-afternoon. I’m sure there are options out there, but today, I’m feeling whiny and hungry and sickly (and sorry for myself, clearly).

But I’ll get there. God willing, I’ll get there. Just be patient with me, I say to myself over and over again. And now I ask it of you: this might be a long two week detox… and a difficult road thereafter. So won’t you pray with and for me? I have committed to always remember in my prayers as I cry out for my own “struggle” of so many foods I can’t eat… to also remember those who have no choices. Who are hungry and struggling to find food at all.

My prayer today, then, is that my restlessness into gratefulness. I have sought answers to being unwell for a long time now: I am working on being grateful for it. And most of all… I am seeking to be ever mindful of the many blessings and privileges these “challenges” represent. With every lettuce leaf I lift, may we I be praying (we be praying together) for those who have not even that.

...and of course I’m human, and therefore also praying for my self-pitied self, that I would grow into a place of genuine contentment, honest, and coping with all of these changes in my life.

Eating to Live

2011-08-09T19:36:00.000-04:00

After months of seeing different doctors and having various tests done, I'm finally in a place of starting to be able to do something about it.

Being able to do something, of course, doesn't mean it will be easy or pleasant. But do something I shall anyway.

I've been on a "get healthy" - from the inside out - kick for about a year now. I decided I'd had enough of feeling "ok" being the standard, while many days brought less than that. In January my efforts led me to discover a severe dairy allergy: after having entirely removed all dairy product from my diet for 7 months now, if I have even a little it causes a severe, immediate reaction. To think I was poisoning my body all this time!

Since I still haven't been feeling up to par and all symptoms haven't all gone away, I've been running more tests and doing more research. I've been seeing a great doctor who specialized in holistic health (since regular doctors kept telling me I was fine and weren't interested in even testing for other allergies!). Today, I got results back from a hormone profile and from allergy tests.

...SURPRISE!?! We found LOTS of stuff to "fix!"

Perhaps the best thing about the "allergy" tests we did is that they weren't testing for immediate reactionary allergies. Instead, we did blood work and tested for "intolerances." Similar to the oh-so-familiar lactose intolerance many people have, we discovered my body has built up 17 intolerances. SEVENTEEN!! (Lactose is not one of them)

Some of these reactions were stronger than others: the goal is to eliminate the strong reactions from my diet for a full year, while beginning with only 6 months for the others. We can retest in a year or so if all goes as planned.

So... the moment of truth: what am I reacting to and needing to avoid? At the very, very top of my list of strong reactions:

CANE SUGAR

That's right... Freaking sugar! What ISNT sugar in? I can absolutely, easily avoid adding sugar to my diet. But eliminating it ALL - even in my favorite processed foods like sugar!?

Needless to say, I’m struggling a bit with not only the idea of such an adjustment, but with the practicality of if. I am determined to find a way, though… so I invite and welcome any extra prayers on this journey as I prepare to embark on a new journey of restructuring my entire diet… a task that I will easily admit is quite intimidating. But I know I can do it…

Of course… I’m always open to suggestions, recipe sharing, or folks who want to try it for a few weeks as a means of support! I promise to support you as you have supported me… and look forward to seeing results from this next adventure of life!

Happy Anniversary

2011-07-13T22:40:00.000-04:00

Today marks my first anniversary of a day I never imagined I would face. A day that I am simultaneously very grateful for, and that I wish didn't have to exist.

One year ago today, I met my friend Emily. One year ago tomorrow, I met her parents and my good friends- Jen and Matt.

One year ago on the 11th, I was celebrating with the world as the 2010 FIFA World Cup came to a close. I remember that day vividly: the cheers, the celebrations, the crowd of somewhere around 40,000 people from all over the world gathered to watch the Word Cup Final - Spain vs. Netherlands - on a big screen at the Sandton Fan Park. Indeed for me, that was a great day.

The next day (Monday) was filled with sorrow as we heard news that there had been two terrorist attacks in Uganda: bombing aimed at similar groups who gathered joyously to celebrate this world event. Groups who had no idea how much their lives were about to change.

On Tuesday I woke up to news that one American had died. Not just any American (it wasn't the nationality that hit me so hard)- he was a friend of many of my friends. I didn't know him well, but I had met him once. It was suddenly much, much closer to home. and I felt connected to this tragedy in a way I didn't understand. I desperately wished I could do something, but like most tragedies around the globe: there was little I could do from far away except pray. I did a lot of that...

Around lunch time I became restless and had "had enough." I felt claustrophobic in our house (we weren't working at this point, as it was our first full week off from SHADE). So I informed my roommates that I was going out to the mall where I would browse and sit in a coffee shop and read my book and just be "out." They agreed this was a good idea, so before we knew it, we found ourselves sharing lunch in a coffee shop with our books and half-written letters lying beside us. It was a day that was filled with good conversation, with the company of friends who challenged one another but were good for each other, and above all: it was good for our souls.

Rachel had been in contact with folks from Pennsylvania, who gave us word that a couple of other Americans had been on a Mission Trip (from a Methodist Church) and were in critical condition. They were to be flown down to Joburg where they could receive better care than the bursting-at-the-seams hospitals in Kampala.

Before we knew it we found ourselves looking for complete strangers in a South African ICU. The nurses were kind and we told them why we were there: American Missionaries who were asked to visit the Americans and offer support until their family could arrive.

I'll never forget that night.

We met Joanne, Emily's grandmother, and her greatest concern was over her grandaughter. We assured her she was nearby and resting well... as we had just been to see her. Emily... was sleeping when we arrived. We prayed over her. Then, at the prompting of a nurse, we gently woke her to say hello, to pray with her. I can still hear that quiet, sweet, scared voice like it was yesterday. The thought of it has literally given me chills.. I wrote a little more about that day in an old post you can find here.

The days that followed were unexpected. We showed up in the morning to greet Emily's parents, sure they'd want to know who had been to visit their daughter. We immediately knew who they were when they walked out, as it was winter and Matt was in shorts and flip-flops: straight off the plane from America. We introduced ourselves and intended to leave, only leaving behind a number "in case you need anything" - but honestly not sure we could offer them much. I'm so glad we were wrong.

Emily had evidently been asking where her "3 angels who came to visit last night" were: and there was a bit of relief to realize she wasn't crazy, and I imagine they measured us up to be normal enough - at least for 3 girls who choose to live in South Africa.

So we stayed. We took some "dubers" (Matt’s favorite word for foreign currency) and got them a local phone... and then stayed for lunch. And dinner. And lunch and dinner almost every day for the next 4 weeks…

It has been a long, hard year for my friends. Bur progress has been made, all are home, and while life is still anything but normal compared to one year (and 3 days) ago, I am grateful to be carrying on with this journey alongside them.

To my Kerstetter family: you have been an incredible blessing to my life. Thank you. I love you all.

Cell Phones...

2011-07-01T14:54:00.001-04:00

A conversation in the office this week that I thought worth sharing:

Rob: They gave me one of those little phones. They put their names in it, so I just have to open it and go to their name and it just calls them all on its own! Its great for people like me who are getting older and have no memory.

Me: Yea, I’m the same way. If I can’t remember anything now - and I’m only 27 - then I can’t imagine what it’ll be like when I get older.

Rob: Yea, you are in trouble all right…

Oh, all-consuming, wonderful (and terrible) technology… how would we live without you!?

:)

And they'll Know we are Christians...

2011-06-16T16:39:00.009-04:00

I struggle with angry people in the church.

There are different types of anger, of course. I affirm anger that is productive. Anger that leads to addressing systems of injustice. Anger against injustice that can be ….

People who are angry and ready and willing to fight about resolutions or policies of our Church. People who are angry when they intentionally exclude people from God’s church. People who react with anger as they seek to be “inclusive” - even when that inclusivity comes at the cost of excluding those who disagree with them…

For the first time (that I can remember), I was uncomfortable taking communion today. I was torn as I realized how uncomfortable I was. Torn because I was uncomfortable with the situation, but then also uncomfortable that I was so uncomfortable. What kind of witness was I making in my own inability (refusal?) to walk away? What would have been the better, healthier decision?

You see… today, I decided to take part in a communion service with a group of folks who were intentionally welcoming “ALL” people to the table. In theory (and usually in practice!) this is something I stand with and for. I believe our church needs to continue working in this direction of radical hospitality, welcoming “only” those whom Jesus welcomed in his ministry: everyone. That’s it. No categories. No “except,” no, “but what if…” - just everyone. Yes, those lack of exceptions even include and move beyond one’s sexuality. Really, truly, with all of my being (even when its hard) and at the core of my being, I believe: Jesus’ intentionality in uses phrases such as “the least of these” means that he loves and welcomes ALL of US. There is no “them.”

So… Have you ever had the experience of reading something and understanding it one way, then later having someone else read it to be something entirely different? Today, that is how this service felt. The liturgy was beautifully written. The songs were well chosen. And yet somehow, today, something in me (call it the Spirit!?) moved. I was uncomfortable not with the words, but with how they were spoken. I was uncomfortable with the words (that we didn’t sing due to music being played behind us), “they will know we are Christian by our love…”

I was uncomfortable as I asked myself…
Would those around us know we’re Christian? We didn’t exactly invite everyone. That is: you were not invited if you did not agree with our “inclusive” stand.
… and so I ask: is that love?

A huge part of my call to ministry is a commitment to dialogue. How is this conducive to that?

...To be clear: this is not to reflect poorly on the individuals holding the service. It was a nice service. But today, it stirred something within me that made me angry. And that kind of anger has no place at the table. My prayer is for my own healing. For my own journey toward perfection. For my own desire to love better. As I sit here at an Annual Conference with over 2500 other United Methodists, I can’t help but to wonder how many people among us have been excluded… and how can we journey together to be the truly welcoming and “radically hospitable” church we claim to be?

I am grateful for the journey… and that I am not the one who is expected to have all of these answers. I am grateful for the God of love and Grace who carries us, forgives us, and loves us: even when we are not living up to the call on our own lives to do the same.

Rainbows

2011-06-13T12:43:00.023-04:00

I can't stop thinking about a little girl I met at church yesterday morning.

About 9 years old, she was well spoken, respectful, and a bundle of positive energy. She was mildly bashful when first introduced to me, but when I was trying to leave 10 minutes later, I was not allowed to walk past her without engaging in conversation.

Not just any conversation, though. She was referred to me by (Pastor!) Jeff, who I imagine was as surprised as I was when she asked him, in the midst of all the flooding and chaos going on in the McCook Lake/Dakota Dunes area:

"Why does God let bad things like the flood happen? Is God angry?"

What a profound question, my darling. If only we knew what went through God's "mind."

Perhaps the reason I find myself still thinking about this conversation a day later has to do with the intense and thought-provoking conversation that followed. I found myself challenged by the honesty and genuine questions of a (9year old?) little girl. She wondered aloud, "will we be wiped out like all the people except Noah?" as she also made astute observations like, "when I am sad it is like it should be crying outside. and when I am unhappy a storm... when I am angry a Tornado (etc)." Is that how God works, too?

I began with the most well-known story of a flood: she was well acquainted with Noah and reminded me (in her words) that there, too was a story of God seeking vengeance on God's creation for all their wrong-doings. I asked her if she knew what happened at the end of the story and was promptly told, "the ark was left on dry land, but even they were stranded on top of a mountain!"

Searching for the message of hope offered to us, I asked, "Do you remember the rainbow at the end of the story? Do you know what that means?"

"That God was angry and we should be careful."

I wasn't sure what was worse: that we teach our children the difficult pieces of stories to instill fear in them, or that it seemed there was no sign of hope in a story that really ends with an ultimate reward offered to us: a covenant with God. How great that we have a God who offers us hope and love and makes promises to us that are not dependent on anything we do?! God covenants with us purely because God cares!

We talked about the rainbow and its promise and she was entirely unfamiliar and so she continued, asking equally thought-provoking questions. Eventually, I found I could leave her with only this:

God loves us and when we are sad, God is also sad. It is not always that God wants bad things to happen, but sometimes they do. It is then that we should remember how much God loves us, how God even sent Jesus to show us that, and because of Jesus, we know that God really does understand how we feel. So when we are sad, God is sad too. When we are hurting, God is hurting. When our homes flood, God is cries with us through our struggle and is sorry that we have suffered and lost so much. God does not want bad things to happen, but God does want to help us find hope and to offer us strength as we find ways to pick up our lives and begin anew.

That, my friends, is why we have the rainbow. and today… my rainbow and reminder of hope came in the form of a little girl...

A Good Week for Change

2011-05-22T19:00:00.029-04:00

Its been a good week for me.

Let me rephrase that: its been a much-needed great week for me!

Why, you ask? Oh, nothing out of the ordinary. Just a combination of small things. Things that are meaningful to me. Things that bring me joy.

Things like feeling more settled in this city I am foreign to. Things like connecting with new friends, and experiencing the joy of new relationships beginning. Things like hearing the stories of strangers (becoming friends) and how their "normal" lives are full of love, faith, passion and joy.

Things that, this week, have added up to help me shift from "doing ok" in this "foreign city of Washington DC" into a place of "settling in" in this place I am coming to call "home."

Why the sudden shift, you ask? I'm so glad you did.

Because on Wednesday, my bike arrived. I stayed home from work and waited for it on Tuesday and Wednesday. Then Wednesday after work the first friend I met in DC came over to help me build it: and it was a success! I have ridden every day :).

On Saturday I went looking for trails but didn't find any, so after searching and riding in circles for about an hour and a half, I decided a 10 mile ride was sufficient and went home. I was eager to ride more, though, so I signed up for "Bike DC" - the annual ride that benefits the Washington Bike Association and helps do things like put more trails and bike lanes in. I even got up early for it - I had to be there to register by 6:45am.


Sassy Sisters cycling group at Bike DC

I found a Meetup group to ride with, and discovered: it was facilitated by my upstairs neighbor! YEA! for having a neighbor who rides! I ended up riding with two other women, both of whom were semi-new to cycling so together we just took our time and rode purely for the enjoyment of riding. It was a bit strange (and awesome!) that I hadn't really been on a bike in nearly 2 years, and yet I was somehow the experienced rider that was able to answer their questions. We had a great time!!! Over main roads and even the interstate which were closed down for us, we stopped for water or photos or to say hi to friends along the way... it was a leisurely but great ride.

I intend to ride my bike to work tomorrow. I look forward to ways my bike shall continue to be an integral part of my life DC, and I am thrilled at the "new life" (positive energy!) I am getting at having it back in my life.

I always knew I missed my bike... but only this weekend did I realize how much. I am just grateful that as I discover this, I am also discovering a community that is just as excited to ride with and support me.

Its good to be back in the saddle.

Settling In

2011-05-18T14:23:00.000-04:00

It has arrived!

I have been working from home for two days while anxiously awaited the delivery of my bike from whom I have been separated for entirely too long. Today, the UPS driver had one very happy customer awaiting this delivery! I absolutely cannot wait to put it together and get a ride in... But I am supposed to be 'working' while home, so for now it shall carry on taunt me a bit until 5:00 arrives...

A New Addition

2011-05-16T23:22:00.001-04:00

Tonight, my roommate Holli returned from her short weekend home. It was a weekend with a purpose: she flew home with intentions of driving her car back so she would have access to a vehicle when moments of great need for road trips arise (I strongly affirm this!).

I for one am glad Holli has returned to this place we (at least I) currently call home. I am also grateful for some of the things she returned with: a rolling pin, a commuting bike... And most of all...

Hurley

Meet the newest joyful, playful, furball edition to this home! Welcome, Hurley: I am glad (ecstatic!) you are here! There's just something about a pet that makes a house feel more like a home. :)

Prom Night

2011-05-13T19:56:00.002-04:00

Now that I'm back in the US, and more specifically in DC, I am grateful to be close enough (to Ellicott City) to be able to be a part important nights like tonight.

Tonight is prom night for my dear friend Emily. I have been blessed to have Emily in my life, and have come to care about her much like a little sister. I am grateful to be able to be present for nights like tonight, when I can smile, laugh with and admire Emily in all her stunning beauty as she celebrates this memorable first prom night.

A hard-earned Congrats!!

2011-05-13T13:09:00.003-04:00

Today - Friday the 13th - is the 154th graduation of my beloved alma mater, Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary.

So today, in honor of the G-ETS graduates (but especially the women), I am wearing my red shoes. Red shoes that need broken in but have been worn on only one other occassion: my own graduation. (Why red shoes? My friend Amanda wrote a great blog explaining this great tradition. Read about that here.)

My hats go off to you, Garrett grads. I am so excited for the ministry that shall follow this day you have worked so hard to get to. May God's grace, peace, love, and especially JOY follow you in the days ahead!

Silence.

2011-04-22T13:18:00.001-04:00

I have now been a resident of Washington, DC for two weeks.

During those two weeks, I have moved into my new home, managed to get everything unpacked (almost: I have one box of books left to shelve), explored my way around my neighborhood, learned to navigate the metro and bus systems, and started a new job where I feel like I’ve truly “hit the ground running.”

For the most part, my days off have been spent shopping by day (for everything from bedding and curtains to food and basic household items) and settling by night (unpacking, cooking, hanging curtains, etc.). While it has “only” been two weeks, I am completely exhausted by these things. I feel like I have done nothing but run around! and I have been in desperate need of a true day “off.”

Today is Good Friday, so my office, affiliated with the Methodist Church, is closed. It feels weird that Good Friday - a day in the midst of the crazy-busyness that is Holy Week - would be a day “off.” Alas, I realize today that is one of the blessings of being a “lay” person. I have spent time thinking about all that is today in “Good Friday” and will go to church tonight, but in the interim, today really is a day “off.”

I woke up around 8 and stayed in bed: simply because I could. I got up a while later feeling rested and refreshed. I spend the morning dodling around in my new home, having a late breakfast, checking email, reading a few friends’ blogs I’ve fallen behind of. Really doing one of my favorite things on a day off, easily defined as: “nothing.” Or, as I like to call it: “self care.”

As the day grew close to noon I decided to progress into some delicate, slow-paced productivity. I washed the dishes, swept the floor. When I began to do so, I plugged my iPod into the stereo with a new cord I finally managed to buy this week. As the music filled the apartment it felt good and right: I did play one of my favorite energizing playlists, of course!

But that’s when I realized I was missing something. It took me a minute to figure it out, and as I was thinking about it the phone rang. I turned the music off and answered my phone. After a short conversation, I reached to turn the music back on, but that’s when I realized it: The thing that was missing, was the silence.

I spend all week with noise. As an extrovert, I celebrate that I am able to either always be talking to people or have my music playing while I work. As I walk (or take the bus) home from, work, my life is filled with the sounds of others around me.

This morning I realized that my time alone in the apartment was special for one reason above all others: for the first time, I was granted true silence without interruption. A silence that provides not just time for reflection, but also an opportunity for clarity and refocusing.

Truly, this is what taking sabbath is all about. Even if it comes on an unexpected day like Good Friday.

I know I won’t keep the music off forever: I probably won’t even last the afternoon. But for now, I appreciate that the only sounds I can hear are the clicking of the keys on my keyboard and the dishwasher running in the kitchen.

Truly, on days like today, there could be no better sound than the sound of silence.

Holy Thursday

2011-04-21T21:36:00.002-04:00

Tonight I had the privilege of being one of few to worship at Mount Vernon UMC here in Washington, DC.

This is a place I have instantly begun to feel at home in. After only having attended once before (on Sunday), I already recognized faces and even remembered a couple of names. I found the place incredibly familiar and didn’t really feel like a visitor. It is an incredible feeling to have that feeling in a church. Especially in a city that is in so many ways still foreign to me.

It could be said that it is common for a service of footwashing to occur tonight: Maundy Thursday. It is the night that we not only remember Jesus’ last supper and sharing of bread with his disciples, but it is also the night that Jesus humbled himself - and his disciples - and washed their feet. Jesus didn’t just invite that his disciples - and all of us - follow his lead and humble ourselves as servants: Jesus commanded it.

That always strikes me. That Jesus commanded something: and yet we only really talk about it and act on it once a year. It got me to thinking about other ways we figuratively “wash one anothers’ feet.”

I was thinking about this as I went up to have my feet washed by the Deacon of the church: my good friend Jason. I observed the care with which he poured the warm water on my feet, and how delicate and intentional his hands were as they “worked” to dry my feet. This process really is humbling and beautiful.

Then came the hard part: I sat down.

Let me be honest: especially as Holy Week has arrived, I have missed serving in a church. Crazy, I know: but while all of my clergy friends are running around fretting, my life has carried on “normal” and my only focus on the holiness of this week came tonight: at a service I thought about not attending because I was so tired.

So as I sat in my pew half thinking about servanthood and Jesus’ commandment, I was also half thinking about wanting to be more actively involved in leadership (and leading worship) in a church.

That’s when it happened: I literally had to restrain myself.

I saw my Deacon friend Jason kneeling, sitting before the bucket with water and clean towels, waiting to wash others’ feet: but no one was coming. We had finished: the last person was having their feet washed by the pastor on the other side of the room. But Jason just waited. As if he didn’t notice.

And the longer he sat there, the more I thought, “I should go over there. Someone should wash his feet.” The voice telling me to do so grew louder and louder as I contemplated what to do. Was this the voice of God telling me to go and bless him in this way? Or was this my other voice: the one who wants to be involved. The one who has a hard time letting go. and most of all: the one who has a hard time just being served.

I didn’t go.

I wish I could say it was because this last part occurred to me in time to be content and listen more closely to Jesus’ command to be humbled and both serve and be served.

But I can’t say that.

All I can say, is that I didn’t go because about the time I had convinced myself it would be okay and I wouldn’t be stepping on toes in this new (albeit homely) church if I did so, the music stopped and I realized the others had finished.

Before I knew it the candles were extinguished and the alter was being stripped.

Before I had time to finish processing, people were starting to leave in silence.

Silence that came too quick. I knew it was coming, but I wasn’t ready for it.

But all the same: it has arrived. let the night of prayer and fasting begin as we move onward toward Good Friday...

A non-updating Update

2011-04-20T20:35:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, I get behind on blogging.

At times like these, I get overwhelmed with how much I have to catch up on, as I don't know where to start. This only makes me fall further behind, and it seems to dig an impossible hole of blogging doom.

Now is one of those times. I even have several half-written blogs I thought about fixing up or even posting as they are. Then I decided that was a bad idea.

So here's what I'm going to do: nothing.

Unfortunately, there is just going to be a great big gap in this blog of mine, and if I get to it later, I'd like to say I'll update more and catch up here on the transition of life back in the US. But if I'm honest, I'd also like to say: that probably won't happen.

In short, here's a summary: I miss South Africa and my family there heaps and heaps, and I think of them every day. I look forward to when I can visit (or live there) again - hopefully sooner rather than later.
Fact 2: Some days are harder than others.
Fact 3: I also really like living in Washington, DC.
Fact 4: I am grateful that weather in Cape Town is similar to weather in DC, only we're going into summer, and them into winter. (DC wins!)
Fact 5: I believe my new appointment at MFSA is going to be full of challenges.
Fact 6: I feel up to those challenges, and feel like my strengths and gifts are a good fit for the needs of MFSA at this time.
Fact 7: That fit is really scary, as it will force me to work beyond my comfort zones.
Fact 8: Working beyond where we are comfortable is where I have seen the Holy Spirit most at work. I am really excited about this!

That's enough facts for now. More later.

An Evening Well Spent

2011-03-26T16:40:00.003-04:00

Changing Times:

I have the whole, quiet house to myself for the first time since returning to South Dakota. Which means I have several consecutive hours of peaceful alone time for the first time in… over a month?

So: how did I spend it?

Watching soccer, of course!

Tonight the USA played Argentina in a friendly match here in the US - and for the first time in my soccer-loving life, I am living somewhere that has access to a channel that will actually play the match! So you better believe I had the TV set on ESPN 2 hours in advance.

Did I mute it and do something else while waiting for the game to come on?

Glad you asked! The answer? No!

Why would I? How could I? Not when on Sports Center was: a pre-season Cubs game! YEA Cubbies: So glad you beat TX! :)

After the game? I eventually lost interest because they were talking about March Madness, and for whatever reason, I dont have the fever. Or really follow basketball at all.

But then… who needs it with other great games and superior sports to follow?

For those wondering: USA and Argentina drew at 1-1.

and the Cubs? Yes. This is the year!

Transitioning

2011-02-25T01:50:00.005-05:00

Well... The time has come. I've been anticipating it with great hesitation for a while now, but I suppose there is nothing I could do to really be prepared for it. In the moments I think I'm ready, in the moments I think I know what to expect, its those moments that are followed by the crash of reality that I could never really be either of these things.

So here I sit. Waiting with sadness and grief of what I leave behind. Focusing on the joy (and positive growth from the sorrows) of all that has passed and become a part of me over the past 18 months. And reveling in excitement and anticipation for all that lies ahead.

Because today, my heart is full of grief as I have bid many people I love farewell.

I am nervous as I consider the questions associated with the ways I have changed from the inside out. Change I may not recognise for years to come, but which begs questions such as: how will 'home' feel different as a new person enters for the first time?

And despite all of this, I am confused and grateful for excitement as I prepare to board a plane to Ireland, where a new country and an old friend await me for a week of adventure. I am thrilled that I shall soon be reunited with family and friends I have not seen in a year and a half, not the least of whom include new additions such as my nephew Quintin.

So a cloud of emotion surrounds me today, and only one word seems to describe how they are linked:

Grateful.

Announcement

2011-02-14T11:39:00.002-05:00

Well friends: it is now official! My US-based placement as a missionary has now been confirmed, and it is with great joy and excitement that I get to share it with you today!

Are you ready… ?

I am moving to…
   Washington, DC!

I will be working for…
       The Methodist Federation for Social Action (MFSA)!

My job title will be…
   “Associate for Movement Building” - with an emphasis on young people!

Which is a fancy way of saying…
       My focus will be on participating and leading events that foster theological reflection on social justice work… including but not limited to planning national events, working with social media outlets, engaging in education and witness of social justice issues...

Basically, I’m going to get to do three of my favorite things: invite and engage in dialogue, share theological reflections, and figure out how to turn those in to actual change and do-ing of social justice. And not just locally, but across the United Methodist denomination.

For lack of a better word to describe this job description I come up with only: AWESOME.

Really, truly: I could NOT be more excited about this placement! In so many ways, I feel it is perfect for the place God has been calling me to, and the ways God has been speaking to me: not just lately, but over the past several years.

The moment I read the email inviting me to consider this as a placement, a smile washed across my face and I was instantly excited about how apparently perfect this placement seemed. As time has passed and I have had time to further consider this placement over email and phone conversations with staff at mfsa, I have only grown more confident in this assignment.

Indeed, God’s hand has been with me in my journey to here, and indeed God continues to bless and encourage me. After a couple of years of chaos and confusion, I am exuberant as I consider the new direction my path is taking me, and it is with great anticipation that I prepare for what shall be written in the next few chapters of this crazy book I call my life.

I hope you’ll join me and continue to follow me here as I make my transition and enter into a new form of ministry over the next couple of years.

The Beginning of the End

2011-02-13T12:46:00.001-05:00

It has begun.

Friday, I met a friend who lives on the other side of town for coffee… to bid one another farewell.

Today was my last Sunday at Plumstead Methodist Church.

Time is running away, slipping through my fingers quickly, slipping away before I realize it has passed.

I have begun saying farewell. I have had many “lasts.” And at the end of next week, I will depart South Africa.

It is strange that this time has come, and it still doesn’t feel entirely real. In part, I am grateful: that makes it easier. On the other hand, I wonder if this denial of sorts will not only make adjusting to life back in the US more difficult.

I am going to miss this place. These people. This climate. The smells, the sites, the sounds. There is no place like Cape Town, my favorite city in the world.

And yet… while I am sad to be going and refusing to think of the people I will miss the most… I am also really excited. Excited because of what is yet to come. Excited because I know God has called me to what is next. Excited because this ending, as with all endings, also brings with it a new beginning. And the new beginning that awaits me in the US is certainly one that God has called me to.

And so, while I am sad and torn and a bit numb when I think of leaving, I am left also joy-filled, for if I were to leave this place for any other or for any reason, it could only be because God has called me to do so. I am grateful to find myself in that space.

So where is this next place that I’m heading to? Watch this space and I’ll make that announcement here in the next couple of days… :)

To the Point

2011-02-07T09:32:00.000-05:00

I promised photos of "people and places and sites and views that I am soaking up" in my last few weeks here. One my South African "bucket list" was to go to Cape Agulhas - the southern tip of Africa, and where the two oceans officially "meet." Here I am.

While I'm certainly going to miss the amazing scenery I'm surrounded by, having friends to run away on weekend road trips with no real itinerary is pretty great, too.

Soaking It In

2011-01-31T06:07:00.001-05:00

List making, closet-clearing, worship-leading, sermon-preaching, desk-sorting, paper-shuffling, paper recycling, schedule minimizing, attention averted, picture-sharing, recipe-collecting, exercise-avoiding, holiday-taking, sun-soaking, Bible-studying, suitcase-finding, plan-making, friend-connecting, excitement sharing, anticipation-holding, sadness-hiding...

These are just a few of the things I've been "doING" lately.
I am finding that with each passing day and each passing task, I am drawing more near the final time I will be "doing" these things here. In this place. With these people.

And somehow, while I'm sad to be leaving, I am also beginning to greatly anticipate whatever is "next." I look forward to answers to that question soon, hopefully as soon as this week. And while I look forward to that, I also realize that I have learned in the past few weeks that it is possible to love a place and long to stay, but also to consider the alternative: that the time has come to go.

So I am working hard this week to continue on "do"ing, but also seeking to "be." To be present. To take a little extra notice of my surroundings. To smile and laugh more, and to soak in all that I am surrounded by now that I know I will greatly miss when I return to the US in just over a month's time.

Perhaps the next few weeks will bring with them photos of some of these people and places and sites and views that I am soaking up so that you can share the beauty I am surrounded by with me.

The List

2011-01-29T10:41:00.000-05:00

A few months ago, Lisa and I made a list of people, places and things we would like to see before leaving Cape Town (I leave at the end od next month, she moves in December). With time drawing near, we're continuing to work on that list.

Near the top of that list for me were two things: Camp as much as possible, and visit Cape Agulhas, the southernmost tip of Africa where the two oceans officially 'meet.'

Today is a peaceful and perfectly beautiful day, and I am grateful to be doing both of these things. While Jessica and Greg take a nap, Lisa and I sit in the sun reading our books while a cool breeze blows over us. The only sounds to be heard are from the waves crashing against the shore 100m away, birds singing, or the occassional laughter from the few other campers nearby.

Life is good.

The "G" Word

2011-01-24T08:37:00.002-05:00

Saying goodbye is something I have never liked doing.

In fact, I more than don’t like it: I’m completely opposed to it.

I used to say goodbye to people and places in my life, and every time, no matter how hard I would try not to, I get all worked up about it. Because when one says goodbye, it feels like there is a finality to it that just makes me uncomfortable.

So I don’t say goodbye anymore. And so far, this has worked out well for me. I bid people farewell, and say things like, “until we meet again,” but I don’t say goodbye.

I can’t, really, because it either hurts too much or feels like a lie, as I have a hard time believing in the finality that I unintentionally attach to the word.

Because on more than one occasion, I have bid someone “goodbye” believing it was likely we would never meet again. Friends who live overseas are sad but realistic examples of this. And yet, here I am in South Africa, living with a family that has become my own, proving my point precisely: when I left South Africa for the first time in August 2007, I did not believe I would ever return. I figured I would never see them again.

But then: God certainly does have a sense of humor, and here I am.

And so, as I prepare myself - my whole self - for a parting of ways when I return to the USA in a few weeks’ time, I am not preparing myself for saying goodbye. This time, I believe we will meet again, whether it is in person or in spirit, or through email or photos or perhaps through my dreams when I miss this wonderful place so much. And so, for all of these reasons, I am searching for ways not to say goodbye, but to say “thank you” for all this country - her places, and most importantly her people - have offered me.

Surprises

2011-01-23T08:48:00.003-05:00

The one thing that I stressed about or perhaps even least anticipated during my time here in Plumstead was the preaching. For the first time in my life, I was asked to preach at the church/in the circuit regularly, slowly moving from once the first month into every two weeks and finally every week: including Christmas Day and Watch Night services.

Where I come from the US (or more specifically the UMC), you don’t preach often unless you’ve been ordained. So while I did learn a bit about preaching while in Seminary, I haven’t had a lot of opportunity to practice.

Well, here I am, and here is the good news: I survived. Better news? I LOVED it! (shhh!)

As it turns out, this big, scary, exciting opportunity to preach and lead worship regularly, is something that I love to do! I cannot begin to describe to you how great it is to feel affirmed in this huge piece of my calling into ministry.

The truth is, I was intimidated and nervous and perhaps even anxious about preaching (enough that I actively avoided opportunities to preach in the past). Plumstead changed this only because there was a need that I could help to meet: and how does one say no to that? Yet what started as a need led me to discover that the more I was preaching, the less it felt like a “task” - and the more it has begun to feel like a “calling.”

Just as I’ve begun to fall into routine and realize the joy I receive from this type of ministry, I came to another realization:

This morning was my last Sunday preaching at Plumstead Methodist Church. and I don’t know how long it might be until I’m in a post that allows me to preach regularly again.

There are many, many ways my time in Plumstead has been a blessing to me. Today, I am grateful for this opportunity - and this revelation.

So though I was not ready to say goodbye to you today when you surprised me with a parting gift, to you, Plumstead Methodist Church, I say: Thank you.

Leaving

2011-01-20T11:21:00.006-05:00

I feel like I finally have a routine. No, a rhythm. Like all is well and good in the world. I’m loving my work, the people I live, work, and serve with. I’ve grown in leaps and bounds and its nice to see some of the painful process of stretching, finally pay off.

And now. Now that it finally feels like I am in the right place at the right time with the right people. Right when it feels like that: it is time to start preparing to leave. I am trying not to count days or weeks, but its hard, especially knowing that tomorrow marks 5 weeks until my departure.

I’m not ready to leave, that much is certain. And yet, as I read through the Gospel stories set before us for Epiphany, I am reminded that when we are called - when we are asked to “follow” or “come” or “believe” - we are not asked to do so on our own time, in our own convenience, or in our comfortable spaces.

We are not called to come at our leisurely, comfortable paces, but “immediately,” as the disciples did when Jesus first called them.

So I must also acknowledge: our God who called me to South Africa, is now calling me home. I still do not know what lies ahead of me. and I have no idea where my next placement will be or what I’ll be doing.

But I trust.

It will not be easy. I know that wherever I end up, it will take me a while to find my rhythm again, and to make it feel like home. And yet I also know, deep down inside, that though I do not think I’m ready (or want) to leave, it is right.

And though it is not easy, I must trust in that knowledge. For if there is one thing I have learned or been affirmed in over this past year, it is this: to always trust my God-given instinct: even when it is not easy or comfortable or “safe.”

Right now that instinct is reminding me of my call and commitment to return to the US. To the US where another adventure of another unpredictable 18 months awaits me…

But until then, I shall remain here. Taking in every moment of joy, every breath of the fresh ocean breeze, every extra view of the extraordinary Table Mountain.

Today, I am happy to be where I am. And so, rather than focus on where I will be, today I choose to acknowledge but not focus on the fact that I am leaving.

Today, I choose to find joy in my growing gratitude for being here, and being able to just be.

Congratulations

2011-01-15T16:07:00.001-05:00

I’m at that place in life where lots of my friends are either getting married, or are already married and having children. A very exciting time.

Today, my dear friend Emily has exchanged vows with the love of her life, Michael.

I wish with all of my heart I could be there to help them celebrate. To see in person the smile that I know only Michael can bring to Emily’s face. To share in the joy they will exude today as they make official their pledge to share their lives with one another: with the one person who makes the other happier than any of us have ever seen them.

I could not be happier for you, Michael and Emily. And today, I say, with all of my heart and from across an ocean: Congratulations Michael and Emily! I love you!

Holiday

2011-01-09T03:04:00.035-05:00

Growing up, we didn’t go on holidays out of town. Instead, we would spend summer weekends at the local lake, or my Mom would take us to the zoo. Trust me: that was holiday enough as that 90 minute drive (once 3+ hours because she got lost) was plenty of time for my poor mother and her 4 squabbling children.

So, with one exception of a road trip to Minneapolis with 8 of us piled in a van, I didn’t grow up going on family holidays.

Now: fast forward to my present life. I live with a family that has taken me in as one of their own. As Pete was moving to Pietermaritzburg, a road trip was in order to take a few things there, including his motor bike and the truck. So: roof tents in order, back packed with amazing precision by Jess, and into the bakkie 5 of us went, with poor Pete struggling to keep awake as we slowly made our way from one side of South Africa, to the other.

It has been an adventure learning to fall into the natural rhythm of the family’s holiday “routines” - if you can call them that. Their “routine” basically includes plentiful coffee (and thus toilet) breaks and stopping off for petrol or to take photos or to see unique shops or anything else that is felt like in the morning.

As long as you understand three things, life will be grand when on holiday with the Grassows:


Visiting and drinking freshly roasted Terbodore Coffee was definitely a highlight!

    1. Holiday begins the moment you leave the driveway.
    2. Coffee is important and should be consumed regularly.
    3. Nothing and no one moves faster than a leisurely pace.

Needless to say, I’m having a great time!

Update: Part 2

2010-12-23T14:44:00.003-05:00

A little late, perhaps, but for those of you who do not already know, I wish to share some good news! I have received the lab results back following my surgery, and all is now well and clear, as I have been deemed “cancer-free!”

There will be steps to follow such as monitoring to make sure if it does resurface, we can again catch it early. However, since I am leaving South Africa soon and this will be an ongoing process, I have decided this will wait until I return to the USA in March.

Thank you to all for the love, support, encouragement and prayers! I’m calling this an early Christmas gift. :)

Holiday

2010-12-16T03:47:00.001-05:00

Today is a public holiday here in South Africa, which to me sounds like an invitation to just “be.” I've had lots of necessary time to rest lately, and now I think my body is transitioning from needing this rest into just really liking the rest and extra sleep, even if I don't need it.

But today, I don’t mind.

So as I write this (on my iPod), I'm lying on my bed with all the windows around me open. Light music is playing in the background. Fresh, cool air is pouring in: I wonder if it's going to rain? If not today then likely tomorrow. I look up and see purple: my mosquito net is untidily swept behind me, not serving it's purpose, of course, but then again on a carefree day like today, who cares?

There is work I could or probably should be doing, but instead, I am doing this: "work" I believe to be good for my soul. It's been a hectic couple of weeks and it's nice to have peace, quiet and rest amidst a day when I'm finally feeling alright. I'm now only waiting on peace of mind that I hope will come with lab results on Monday. ... But that's not today. For today, or at least for this morning, I'm on holiday…

Update

2010-12-12T10:50:00.002-05:00

It has been a while since I’ve updated, and much has happened.

I would like to begin where my last post left off: I am thankful for the many people who read my posts here, and (whether they read them or not) for the countless people all over the world who pray for me.

The past two weeks have been a bit of a roller-coaster. In short, what began as a routine procedure to have a mole removed, turned out to not be so “routine.”

In fact, when I saw the dermatologist, he told me he wasn’t sure it was a mole at all, but rather a skin growth that wasn’t anything to be concerned about. But at my request, he cut it out just to “be safe,” as it was irritating me. This may have been the best decision of my life.

I left with a promise that the results would be phoned to me within about a week. Two days later, I got that phone call that everyone dreads, “Ms. Tyler, the doctor would like to see you as soon as possible. Could you come in within the next hour, or first thing in the morning?”

As I was only a couple of blocks away, I canceled my other appointment for the afternoon and went straight there; the last thing I needed was to worry about such an appointment until the next morning! Unfortunately, the doctor presented me with the very news I dreaded most: the mole he removed was malignant; I had melanoma. The verb here is important, though: “had.” We caught it very, very early, and due to the size, depth, rate of growth, etc., they were mostly sure it had all, already been removed.

As I took in the news, the doctor took the liberty of making an appointment for me: I needed to see a surgeon immediately to have a larger area excised as a precautionary measure: to do so is the only way we can be sure it had all been removed. Because the growth was on my face (right temple), I would be going to a plastic surgeon. Hopefully, this would be the best way to reduce scaring.

I met with the surgeon 5 days later, and watched panic move across his face as he read my lab results as sent by the referring doctor. With a great calm and incredible confidence, he was stern but clear: this could not wait. He checked his schedule and seemed to rearrange a few things to work it out: he would operate the next day.

The operation was a bit bigger than anticipated. The doctor cut out an area just over an inch in diameter and 7mm deep (I didn’t know there was that much skin/tissue in that area!). I was awake for the whole procedure and would be lying if I told you it were pleasant, but it certainly could have been worse. 2 hours and about 50 stitches (internal and external) later, I emerged with a sideways “V”-shaped battle wound covered in layers of bandages wrapped all the way around my head.

4 days later, and I’m feeling worlds better. We’ve removed the giant bandages (now just taping over the sutures), and the doctor is very, very pleased with how it is healing. Amidst celebrations of good healing comes a celebration that I have maintained movement on the right side of my face, which was questionable because he had to cut through areas with critical nerves, leaving a chance I’d lose movement on the right side of my face.

I’m still battling exhaustion from all I’ve undergone in the past couple of weeks (did I mention we moved in the middle of this?), but as my headache gets lighter and the swelling goes down, I’m feeling better by the day.

Later this week I should be able to get the stitches taken out, at which time the lab results should also be back. I’m praying for good news and that this part of the journey has come to an end here. Then, post-holidays, I will move forward with plans to have all my moles mapped and skin evaluated, as if the melanoma chooses to return, I want to catch it as early then as I did this time.

Thanksgiving

2010-11-27T16:40:00.018-05:00

Thanksgiving is my favorite (secular) holiday. It is a holiday that traditionally comes from a historical celebration of the first harvest after settlers arrived in the “Promised Land” that is now the United States. On this day, we celebrate the first harvest by gathering around a table filled with lots of seasonal foods such as pumpkin, squash, sweet potatoes and, of course, turkey.

It has become my favorite holiday because there are so few expectations on it. No gifts to give, no huge preparations to make. Just family, friends and food. It doesn’t get any better than that!

I have made it my tradition that, in the season of being “thankful” on “Thanksgiving,” I make sure to record at least one thing I am thankful for every day in the month of November (Thanksgiving is always the last Thursday in November). Also, as we gather with friends to share in a harvest-themed feast, we go around and each share at least one thing we are thankful for. Sometimes it feels a little cheesy or cliche, but really, truly, we all have much to be thankful for, and spent too little time expressing that gratitude.

So this year, as I am far, far away from home and many other Americans, I have done my bit not to let this holiday just pass me by. I was overwhelmed with messages wishing me well on Thanksgiving, and greatly appreciated the thoughts and efforts of especially my friends here in South Africa.

I spent Thanksgiving day with my “family” here in South Africa, and while we didn’t share in a traditionally Thanksgiving meal, somehow, I suppose with a bit of subconscious effort, we did share in an “American” meal: I made (ostrich) burgers, salad, corn on the cob for dinner… and even apple pie for dessert. Certainly a first for a Thanksgiving day meal, but delightfully delicious all the same.

Then came the next day: Black Friday. While Americans all over were out shopping and kicking off the Christmas season, I was preparing for a day-late Thanksgiving feast with friends. Kyle (a fellow American working for the Methodist Church of Southern Africa) and I had planned for it and together joined forces to prepare a feast! We had it all: turkeys (3!), stuffing, sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, gravy, green bean casserole, jello salad, sweet corn… and of course pumpkin and apple pies.

At first we thought we’d have too much food, but it turned out we had underestimated the ability of our friends to eat! It was a great feast, a wonderful celebration, and remains my favorite holiday no matter where in the world I am. And today, two days after the official “Thanksgiving” day, I am overwhelmed with the number of things and people in my life I have to be thankful for.

Kick-off!!! Go #USA!!!!

2010-11-17T16:38:00.000-05:00

Self Care

2010-11-12T06:47:00.002-05:00

Sometimes, an excuse is all thats necessary.

Sometimes, that excuse is as simple as, “its good for my soul.”

Which, I suppose, is to say that I need no excuse at all.

What am I talking about, you wonder? A reason to go. To get away from the city and find peace under the large oak trees at a campground near Stellenbosch.

Why wait for a weekend or a holiday or other “reason” to go, when my very-flexible schedule allows me to go on a Wednesday night?

So that’s what we did. We left after Lisa finished work on Wednesday, and we both went straight back to work when we arrived back in Cape Town early Thursday afternoon.

The weather was perfectly stunning, the timing was right, and we kept reminding each other that this much fun was okay - even in the middle of the week.

Time well spent, and indeed, it was “good for my soul.”

Jesus Is Our Backhoe

2010-11-07T05:06:00.011-05:00

"Jesus is our Backhoe"
If I were to title it, that would have been the title of my sermon this morning.

Based on my experience of life in America where everyone knows what a backhoe is, it made for a great (albeit comical when it stands alone!) visionary tool. So yea! I quite like it when things work out like this.

The problem with this is: Context. I didn’t realize that no one here knew what a backhoe was! After the first service, someone asked me and told me they thought it was a bird. oops! (Fortunately the way the example was staged, it seemed to work fine even without knowing exactly what a “backhoe” is).

So, lesson learned. I easily adapted and made due for the second service, eliminating surprise when the example “clicked” better for them.

So today comes the age-old lesson of not taking advantage of what people know… and today it comes with a bit of reminder that I’m “not in Kansas anymore.”

A year later, and I’m still learning. and to be honest, that’s my cause to smile today. I’m grateful for this small reminder of ways that we are living different but also such very similar lives. And I’m grateful for the ways it has reminded me of ways I’ve been blessed by this community that I now claim as my own. So much so, that sometimes I forget I once wasn’t, and perhaps they won’t understand the same references my church at “home” would.

If I’m going to forget anything, I’m grateful for this kind of “forgetfulness.” and I’m grateful for being able to share in worship with this great community.

All Saints Day

2010-11-06T11:06:00.000-04:00

Since Monday, I have been thinking about a tradition or “holiday” that I love in the church. A tradition that will be celebrated in churches throughout the world, including United Methodist Churches, this coming Sunday. The first Sunday of November is known as “All Saints Day.”

All Saints Day is a day when we as a church recognize the saints who have come before us. Often, we read the names of loved ones who have passed away in the previous year. I have taken part in All Saints Day practices from lighting candles to writing names on a strip of cloth that was later weaved together and used as an alter cloth.

It is a day to lift up and remember those who have come before us and led the way for us as Christians, as a body of believers, who claim to be, in the words of the Apostles Creed, a part of the “communion of saints.” “Communion of Saints,” of course, referring simply to a community made up of past, present and future disciples of Christ.

So tomorrow is All Saints Day, and I’m preaching. All week I have been battling with what to preach about. The Methodist Church here does not celebrate All Saints Day. Sure, I recognize that this does not mean the congregation would not appreciate a once-off celebration of the saints among us here. The problem is deeper than that, though: the problem is that I am aware I’m being called to preach on something else.

So the battle continues. I have two sermons: the one I want to preach, and the one that came from the lectionary text.

I have been cognitively aware of the difference in these two, affirmed now by the fact that the one that’s drawn from the text is finally coming to be, while the one I initially wanted to preach has come to a standstill and feels a bit un-inspired.

So there you have it: I feel a bit as if this week I have been wresting with these texts as Jacob wrestled with God, and am grateful that in the end, I am not the one who has won. I am sure this is not the first time such a match has taken place, and I know it will not be the last. I just pray that the next time such a match takes place, the winner is as clear as it has been today.

Social Networks

2010-11-05T08:45:00.000-04:00

Networks.

Recently I asked the Facebook world how they feel about Linked In. I get an invite about once a week, and wondered if it would be a good use of my time to create a profile. Do people use it? Is it helpful? Or would it be “just one more online source I won’t check or use anyway” (aka a procrastination tool for desperate times). The conclusion reached via facebook, in the words of one friend, is that it isn’t actually helpful for “pastor-types.” So I’ll skip it and stick to my blog and facebook, thank you.

It did get me thinking about the role of Facebook, though. What began as a “social network” for college students only, we know has now greatly changed, both in its use and in its function. I’ve become increasingly less picky as to who I add as “friends” these days, especially now that I’m living overseas. For obvious reasons, I am now unable to communicate as often with my family and friends in the US as I used to, and if used well, the online world can almost always offer an update of sorts on my life (either through pictures and status updates on Facebook, or here on my blog).

One thing about Facebook I have always said is that I don’t want to feel like I have to screen it or worry about what my friends might post. So “when I am appointed at a church,” I would say, “I’ll open a separate professional profile.” But now that seems like it would be a bit pointless, because the reality is, I won’t want to upkeep two profiles.

The other side of that is: I don’t feel I can just not “add friends,” either. So I have “friends” I have never met. Some are friends of friends, some are professional contacts. Some are church people who have supported me but I have never met face to face. Some are even people I indirectly work for (try saying no to that!) but have not yet met in a face-to-face encounter.

And all of the sudden, this Facebook thing that I always called a “social network” has become more than just “social.” I mean, I’m the girl that refused to add my mother as a Facebook “friend” because I insist that if she wants to know what’s going on in my life, she should pick up the phone and call me! But now I’m a world away and am increasingly less picky with who my “Friends” are - and I wonder: is there any point to such a filter?

So I’m curious, and looking for feedback. What do you think? Separate profiles? Give up on having a separation between a “personal” and “professional” page? Just say no? I wouldn’t want to hide my current page, I do want actual friends to be able to find and connect with me. But I also really like having a line between my personal and professional life, as well as a means of separation (such as when I leave a church someday and need to break ties as I start fresh at a new church). Is that break possible if I also have a life that is often communicated through the interwebs?

oh, the internet… and to think I haven’t even had a computer for ten years. and now I can’t imagine life without it...

Thankful

2010-11-04T11:05:00.002-04:00

Contrary to here in South Africa where there have been huge "HAPPY CHRISTMAS" signs hanging in the shops for a couple of weeks now, in the US, everyone is gearing up for Thanksgiving. and every American knows Christmas is not supposed to appear in the shops or on the radio until Black Friday - the day AFTER Christmas.

It seems these past couple of weeks of preparing and celebrating for some of these holiday traditions (Halloween, All Saints Day, Thanksgiving), I've been missing them. Little pieces of home that go with the changing of seasons. Sure, its a different change of seasons here, but as my fall turned to winter here last year, I still had holidays to mark that change: Easter, for example.

But this time, I'm left without those markers that bring the mark of the new season.

Seeing as how just living in another country doesn't take the American out of me, I've decided there are things about these traditions worth keeping, so I'm seeking to educate and share rather than lament them. To do that, I'm planning things like a Thanksgiving feast for a group of friends. Fortunately, there is one other resident American among that group of friends, so we'll be sharing in the cooking fun.

More than the food and the one day of celebration, I like that Thanksgiving reminds us to be thankful. Via Facebook, a few friends have issued challenges to post something each day about what we are thankful for. I love this idea! To be honest, though, I likely won't change my status every day. But I will be writing down at least one new thing each day I am thankful for. Its only one thing - it isn't difficult!

American or not, I invite you to step up to this challenge as well. Feel free to share them publicly such as on Facebook, or to write them down in a journal. But record them, don't just think of them. What are you thankful for. Really? Then at the end of the month, we'll all have lists of things we will remember we are thankful for. As for me, I hope that list will be reflected as I then transition into the New Year - how can what I am thankful for today be celebrated and lived into in the new year? 2011 is just around the corner...

Today, I did post what I am thankful for, with a bit of a precursor, even. After a sleepless night of tossing and turning and eventually an early rise, I realized that I am thankful for shelter and a place to lie my head at night.

What are you thankful for?

Music

2010-11-02T11:26:00.001-04:00

“Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be this hard.” -Coldplay, "The Scientist"

That’s what I love about music. Its poetry with a beat that triggers something, that moves so deep inside you don’t know its hit you until you can hear the words echoing deep inside.

I love that lines which seem so simple on some days, are complex and life-changing on others.

I love the challenge that comes with words that speak truth into my life. Truth that was there all along, but that I needed help seeing and understanding.

I suppose that’s why music is so important. Why it serves as a lifeline. Why most significant journeys or moments in my life are memories triggered by the music that spoke to me during that time. For music has spoken to me in moments of great sorrow and pain, as well as great joy and celebration. It tells of heartache and it tells of struggle. It tells the story of overcoming and stories of new life.

Music tells stories. Stories of your life. Stories of my life. Stories of those we will never meet. Stories.

Who would we be without stories? Our stories make us whole. Make us human. Bring us together. Connect us.

In the end, its the stories that are said so well in lines like this one that draw us back to earth from wherever we are, be it drowning in muck and despair or high on a joyous cloud or joy. And when we are drawn “back to earth” - its there that we meet and encounter and share our stories with “others” - stories without which we would cease to exist. Cease to be human.

We were created for each other. We were created to share stories. Historically, music was used for this. Today, nothing much has changed. Music helps us live, understand and share our stories.

Today, I’m grateful for the music in and of my life.

Happy Halloween!

2010-10-31T17:51:00.000-04:00

In South Africa, they don't really celebrate Halloween

If I were in the USA, I would spend most of today buzzing around and preparing for the evening. I would have a costume picked out by now, and would have at least considered wearing it to church. This afternoon I would make sure all the sweets were ready, and anticipated the arrival of children as they come “trick-or-treating” in the evening.

For me, Halloween is an incredible example of what it means to be in community. While most of the year may pass without seeing some of my neighbors and their families, on this day, a simple porch light left on in the front of the house would indicate that all are welcome. Children would come dressed as their favorite cartoon character or superhero, and parents would walk with them, enjoying one another’s company almost as much as the children enjoy an excuse to dress in costumes and eat sweets.

For this one night, no one thinks about anything but the children. For children and adults alike, bed times go out the window. No matter if you are 5 or 55 or 95 years old, everyone dresses up, at the very least with a smile across the face, and is reminded of the importance of their role in the community. Each porch light left on is another opportunity to say hello, share a sweet, and check in on one another.

In some ways, this big community event reminds me of the Fete we’ve just had. People come out from all over to greet and support one another and to play an important role in the ongoing life of the church. Costumes were optional, but in the end everyone gets to go home with a treat of sorts, whether from the Lucky Dip, the Food Shop, the Good As New stall or one in between. There’s something for everyone, even if more often than not that something ends up being “the one thing you never knew you always wanted.”

Its traditions like these - be it Halloween or Fetes or other shared traditions we have - that remind us of the importance of community and invite us to get to know one another better. In many ways, Sunday mornings (for Christians) are like these annual traditions of gathering and supporting one another as a community. Wherever you find yourself today, take time to look around. Who is this community that surrounds you? Have you greeted them? Surely there is someone you don’t know or haven’t talked to in a while: why wait for a holiday or special occasion to greet them?

Plumstead Fete

2010-10-30T08:21:00.001-04:00

This afternoon was Plumstead Methodist Church’s “Fete.” For my American friends who also come from churches who are not familiar with the idea, a Fete is a fundraising event, sort of like a Bazaar. For an entire year, people save up goods to be sold (cheaply) at the Fete. There are multiple stalls, and you can find almost anything: “like new” childrens' clothing and toys, handmade items from cards to clothes, used books, and an array of miscellaneous items that could only fit the category “white elephant.”. You know what they say: “one man’s junk is another man’s treasure!”

Of course, the most popular booths, true to human nature, tend to be the ones with food. Homemade sweets (we took home a cake and banana loaf) and jams (got some of those, too!), or the food shop, where people have donated food to be “sold” at a price discounted from what you would pay at the shop. You can get a cup of tea or coffee (or cool drink) inclusive of sweets or biscuits to go with them, or you can stop in for breakfast or lunch: the breakfast of bacon and eggs with toast was such a hit it sold out. Then there are items worth waiting around for: a picnic set and the most decadent cake of chocolaty goodness I have ever seen was a “raffle” item. This cake that was donated was so amazing it raised R700 - that’s $100! For a cake! I didn’t win it, but I did get to try a piece later, and I have to say: it tasted as amazing as it looked!

This huge event, stretching from the front garden (with activities for the children) and all through the church, was a great fundraising success. But its more than that, too. Its a tradition worth celebrating.

I’ve been at PMC for a couple of months now, and this was the first time I’ve been to church and been able to spend time with the community purely for the sake of spending time with them. Sure, there were fun things to look at and everyone wanted to support the cause. But that alone wasn’t reason for anyone to come. Not really. If it were, everyone could have simply handed over the cash they intended to spend and skipped the day altogether.

But then we wouldn’t have had a day well spent in reminder of what it feels like to be in community. I wouldn’t have met the spouses or extended family of people I see in church on occasion, or share in Bible Study with. I wouldn’t have been surrounded by people from both the 07:45 and 09:30 morning services, the Sunday school children, AND the youth, all in one place at the same time. If it weren’t for the Fete, I wouldn’t have been able to catch up with so many people without worrying about time constraints or what order or worship is coming up next…

Sure, the Fete is a fundraiser, and to be honest, it is sadly necessary to help meet the fiscal needs of the church. But its so much more than that. And this year, I’m grateful for the reminder of how great it is to be part of such an incredible community.

Doctors, Doctors and More Doctors...

2010-10-26T17:38:00.004-04:00

One of the things that is really great about being where I am right now is how flexible my schedule is. Another is how caring the people I’m surrounded by are. Yet another still would be that I am living with a family who have been here long enough to be able to give me referrals when I need to go somewhere or do something.

When I first arrived, this referral was great, as it took me to the Sport Science Institute at Newlands. After seeing a couple specialists, I’m now going to a weekly knee class with the kinesiologist. Good stuff.

Following the beginning of sorting my knee, I began to focus on wholeness and health in other ways. For example, I’ve been battling with severe stomach cramps for a few months now. To be honest, I’ve brushed it aside and blamed it on stress, hoping that when I was removed from the high-stress environment, the physical side effects of the stress would also evaporate. While I’ve done the former, I’m sorry to report the later has not followed. So while the doctors I’ve seen have agreed it was likely (initially) stress-induced, stress deduction alone can’t make the body magically work properly again. Who knew? So I continue to make visits as we work toward physical wholeness and health. We are making progress, but it is a long, slow journey… and I’m learning to be patient.

I’ve basically decided that while I’m at it - why stop there? So today I went to an optometrist. I only wear my glasses when I’m reading or on a computer, but it has been three years since my last check up. I’ve been aware for some time that I’m in need of an updated prescription, so yesterday I made an appointment and today I had a check-up. Of course, keeping true to my nature these days, it could not be a simple or problem-free visit, so next week I’ll see a specialist and have some scans done. Due to similar scans I’ve had done in the past, I’m pretty confident this will be a simple check up with nothing exciting to discover. Better safe than sorry, though, so next week I’ll see another eye doctor…

Next on my list is a dentist. I wouldn’t want my schedule to fill up entirely with doctor visits so that I wouldn’t have time to get my other work done, so as soon as I finish with one of the doctors I’m regularly visiting now, I’ll make an appointment. I wouldn’t want too much excitement in life, after all.

But hey: at least I’m becoming well acquainted with the medical scene here in South Africa. and I must say: I’m impressed. I’ve had nothing less than quality care, and while medical care is not cheap anywhere in the world, I will confess I’d much rather pay for care here than back in the US of A!

Emily

2010-10-21T13:19:00.007-04:00

If you read here often, you may remember me talking about a girl who I now consider like a little sister, and whose parents I consider good friends. Emily is one of the most brave people I have ever known, and her courage and hope and optimism are contagious.

I am happy for them that they have been able to be “home” in the USA for the past couple of months as Emily continues to receive treatment. But I miss them! and I wish I could be there for Jen, Matt and Emily as they continue to struggle. The road has not been easy, and they are still quite a distance from the end.

This week I was able to have a good conversation with Jen (Emily’s mom) over the phone for the first time since August. Emily had been on my heart and in my prayers more than usual lately, and I just felt I had to phone and check in. It was GREAT to talk to Jen and I hope to talk to Emily and Matt soon too, but more than that, I am glad for an update.

The thing about crises like Emily’s is this: everyone is there for you at first, and then people move on. You can’t blame them. People have lives they have to keep living, and while the Kerstetter’s lives have virtually stopped to give Emily time to heal, we understand that this can’t be the case for everyone.

But right now, I’m asking you to stop. And Pray.

Emily is not well, and continues to struggle with a great deal of pain. After being home for two weeks, she is back in the hospital again and facing more operations, as shrapnel remains in her right leg and is causing problems.

We knew it would not be an easy road for Emily, but we also hoped it would not be this difficult. Please join us in prayer supporting Emily and her family. Her spirits are down and the more she struggles, the harder it is becoming to pick them back up again. Pray for her family (mom, dad, sister) as they care for her and try to find balance in their lives that have all but stopped.

Please keep praying with me.

There's No Place Like Home...

2010-10-19T16:32:00.000-04:00

For me, the most difficult part of living in another country is being away from people. To be honest, most of the time I don’t really miss my friends and family, but perhaps that is because modern technology allows me to stay in touch with them almost as well as if I only lived across the country.

Almost.

The reality is, I don’t. This makes for a few tough scenarios. One is obvious: while I am still technically just a plane ride away (as I was in Chicago), it is a very long and expensive plane ride, making it difficult for me to realistically fly back and forth. This means I have missed several events in my one year in South Africa that I would not have missed had I been anywhere in the continental United States. For example, I have a nephew who will have his first birthday in a couple of weeks, and I am yet to meet him. That simply would not have happened. I have also missed several weddings and even a family reunion to celebrate the 50th wedding anniversary of my grandparents: an event I may never live down (or forget) missing.

Aside from missing events such as these, there is one other thing I really miss: phone calls. For one thing, it is expensive to call here, so it just doesn’t make sense for anyone to phone me when we can speak for free over skype or I can phone the US for something like 1/10 the cost of someone phoning me from there.

So yes: we have skype. Honestly, it has rescued me from more than one of “those days” when I just really needed someone from “home” to talk to. But when those moments come, or when I remember it is a birthday and want to phone and wish you the best, or when I see something that I would like to send in a picture message (from one phone to the next), the computer and internet and skype are not always convenient. Nor available. Nor functioning with a proper connection. Or if they are, the time of the day is off just enough that while I’d like to phone you on my lunch break, something tells me you wouldn’t appreciate a 6am wake up call.

Today was one of those days for me. All is well in the camp here, but it would sure be nice to pick up a phone sometimes. But I’m sure life will go on and all will be well tomorrow. So thanks for reading my rant, and while you’re at it, I invite you to lift up a little prayer for whoever else in the world may be feeling this way at the time you’re reading this.

Rocking The Daisies

2010-10-10T16:14:00.011-04:00

First things first: Its 10/10/10!!! and its barely past 10:10pm. This only happens once a century, so we should celebrate it! :)

This weekend was GREAT. If you know me even a little bit, there are a few things you will already know. 1 - I love live music. 2 - I love spending time with people and in crowds. 3 - I love the outdoors and camping! 4 - I think it is important that we are mindful of the environment around us and believe we should find eco-friendly, sustainable ways to live.


Lisa, Amy & I appreciating the shade away from the hot afternoon sun.

This weekend with a group of friends to Rocking The Daisies, a 3-day music festival that takes place annually just north of Cape Town. Our initial “reason” for going was to see Greg play with his band, Nomadic Orchestra. When I agreed to go, I literally knew nothing more about the weekend than that. Let me tell you: it was GREAT!

Ok, so to be honest it wasn’t entirely my scene. I appreciate the culture and energy of the vibe, but I’m just not a hipster: never have been, never will be. But it sooo didn’t matter. and I loved it anyway!

So we had hours on end of live music of nearly any type you can imagine. While I recognize I am biased, I must say my favorite act was without a doubt Nomadic Orchestra - trust me when I tell you that it is a music anyone will love, and anyone can dance to. What’s not to love about Balkan music?

To top of how awesome this music festival was, consider its mantra: “Play Hard, Tread Lightly.” They didn’t sell bottles of water, they invited you to buy a reusable bottle (for cheap!) and refill it with cold, filtered water for free the rest of the weekend. They had entire stalls made up of recycled material. Free t-shirts and bags were given away that were, you guessed it: made of recycled material. They had compost and recycling bins at the ready for use of the campers. They offered free tickets to anyone who walked to the festival instead of driving, and tickets were half price if you cycled. They really were creative in encouraging people to be mindful of ways to “tread lightly.”

So we’re camping. We’re listening to music. There’s lots of people. and they cared about the environment.

I’m home. I’m happy. I’m exhausted. Basically, it was a great weekend with great people, and I’m ready to do it again!

Friends.

2010-10-07T17:57:00.022-04:00

Here it is nearly midnight and I’m exhausted and somehow WIDE awake. Not that its a surprise, given the excitement of the past week.

This past week I was blessed to have two visitors come and spend a few days with me. My friends Amanda and Hannah, both fellow young adult missionaries with The United Methodist Church, took their leave to come and spend time with me here in the beautiful city of Cape Town. Hannah, my former roommate and co-worker while I was in Joburg/at SHADE, flew down from Joburg to spend 5 days here, while Amanda deserves a medal for flying all the way from New Orleans, Louisiana, USA for only one week’s stay.

The week was filled with tours, site-seeing, wine tasting, coffee drinking, beach-sitting and mountain climbing (well, only a little because my knees are still not well). The weather was very cooperative, as it was clear and beautiful all but one day. Pretty good for this time of year!

We did have a hiccup in our journey, as a puncture on the side of the highway left us with one handbag and very expensive camera being stolen. Certainly one of the most difficult and helpless feelings I’ve experienced in a while as we watched a man run away with all of Hannah’s belongings. While it is always sad to lose things, the great sentimental value of her belongings that ran away before our eyes were definitely the greatest loss, putting into perspective the things we take advantage of. We could be heard wishing he had taken all of our money and valuables but left behind things like her little red notebook filled with thoughts, memories and priceless writings, while at the same time we were grateful to be safe and were “just glad no one got hurt.”

Despite the struggle and heartache that came with this isolated event, we found ourselves making the very best of the time we had together. We even made light of the unexpected couple of hours spent in the Khayelitsha Police Department, as it provided an opportunity for Amanda to have a small tour of a township and a look into the RSA police. By the way, I must say: I have never, EVER had a better experience with police than we had that day at the Khayelitsha Police Department. To the officers and staff we encountered: well done, and Thank You for your incredible service and dedication. Hats off to you. Really.

Despite the unfortunate circumstances requiring our presence there, the couple of hours spent being well cared for at the PD were more representative of this week spent with good friends than of the 2 minutes that caused much distress. (And for any worried about safety, I remind you of the first words out of Amanda’s mouth upon a discussion about safety: “Wait, you’ve never had anything like this happen? I’ve even been mugged in New Orleans - it happens everywhere!”)

So that’s our check back into reality, and looking back over the rollercoaster of the past week, I am left with few words other than “Thank you.” Thank you, Amanda and Hannah, for your visit. It is SO GOOD for me to have the reality check of friends. Friends who serve as a mirror, really, as through time with them I am able to see reflections back of myself. Reflections of ways I have grown, adapted or changed over the past 12 months. Next week will mark one year since I first arrived in South Africa, and this visit was 2 things for me: a timely reflection back on who I am and how I’ve grown, and time to be refreshed and renewed through opportunities to be surrounded by familiar, welcoming, gentle friendships that offer perspective, reassurance, love and support that can only be given by an “old” friend who knew me prior to this experience.

Ysterplaas Airshow

2010-09-25T16:57:00.025-04:00

After a beautiful day on Friday and using the public holiday as an excuse to sit in a coffee shop for a couple of hours followed by a stroll around Kalk Bay, I was almost surprised at how great the follow-up weather on Saturday was!


3 of a kind! Can you see the family resemblance?

By around 9 this morning, breakfast was eaten, lunch was made, and Lisa, Jessica and I were on our way out the door on another beautiful day! On today’s agenda was nothing less than driving out to Milnerton for the Ysterplaas air show! I struggle a bit with the concept of an air show because of the waste and how much fuel is burned in preparation for and during the two-day show terrifies me. But I don’t recall ever going to an air show, so I was excited all the same.

It was another hot day but for most of the morning, the cool Cape wind kept us from overheating.

Lisa at the controls in a military tank

The displays put up were full of information and a couple were even active. Lisa had the energy and excitement of a child, keeping us engaged and excited alongside her as we watched and explored. There were divers from the navy in a tank who fetched our coins for us if we threw them in and tankers we were invited to step into.

In the air there were jets spinning circles and flying upside down, big old planes that looked like they were from WWII-era, helicopters flying in a line, and of course: the mock battle. The mock battle, I must say, was definitely the coolest of all. It all began with 11 people jumping from a plane and reminding me that I want to do that one day soon… and what followed was quite impressive. I know that I understand very little about the skill actually required to fly these aircraft, but in what I have begun to imagine, I am blown away by the precision and skill displayed this afternoon. This is when I realized why people go to the air show. The “mock battle” alone made it worth it. Seriously.

Put Your Right Knee In...

2010-09-23T04:29:00.000-04:00

...and don't shake it all about. But for some reason the Hokie Pokie is stuck in my head today. I hope it can be stuck in yours now, too - and bring a smile to your face. :)

The thing with knees is: I began having pains in my right knee (my “good” knee- not the one I’ve already had an operation on) about 3 weeks into the Ride:Well Tour in 2009 (which you may remember was an 8-week tour). During the tour, I just took anti-inflammatory and pain-relieving meds to “get by.” After the tour, I didn’t go to a doctor but was told by my medically-inclined friends that if I let it rest and wasn’t too active for a while, the problem should take care of itself.

Unfortunately, its a year later and that didn’t happen. So after a few doctors visits and an MRI, I hear the doctor tell me, “if you let it rest for about 6-8 weeks, the pain should just go away.” Then I tell him how long its been, and how much activity I’ve been doing lately (not much, its too painful!)… and he’s surprised. So off to plan B.

Yesterday, I returned to the Sports Science Institute to “check into rehab.”

This comes with a mixed set of emotions. First, I’m frustrated because they want me doing so little that if possible, I’m even driving to work now. Yes, to the church that is a 15 minute walk. *sigh* The good news: at least I have access to a car and am able to follow these directions without much hassle! I am aware few would have such a luxury.

Second, I’m disappointed because 8 weeks really cuts into things like… summer that is now around the corner! and what am I looking forward to most as summer arrives? Hiking! Running! Walking everywhere! Getting out, being active, and spending time wandering around in nature. Alas, that will have to wait for awhile.

At the end of the day, though, despite my disappointment or wish for some miracle, I’m grateful it isn’t something more serious. Last week, I was anxious all week as I feared the doctor may request I have some sort of surgery. So at the end of the day, if they think some different stretches or exercises can help my body heal itself from the inside out, I’m all for it. They even have me wearing some pretty blue spider tape on my right knee. And while I was unsure about it at first, one day in and I’m already convinced its somehow working its “magic.” I’m even thinking of going in next week and having both knees taped before Amanda arrives (!!!) for a visit, as I know we’ll be out and about more than I “should” be right now.

Afternoon Tea

2010-09-18T17:32:00.003-04:00

Summer is finally getting close. Here in Cape Town, it has been raining a lot… and while I understand that rain is good and healthy and we need it… I’m also just ready for it to stop!

Mostly, this is because I know that the rains stopping are a sure sign that summer is arriving. and I can’t wait for summer! The gloom, the cold, the overcast skies, and now the rain here in Cape Town, have become daunting and old, and I’m ready to move on to new things!

That is why I was so pleased to see sunshine this weekend. It was still a bit cool, but as long as there are semi-clear skies and sunshine, that matters little.

To celebrate the beautiful weather and (almost) cloud-free mountain, we had afternoon tea at Kirstenbosch gardens this afternoon. As much time as I’ve spent in Cape Town, and somehow I had never been to Kirstenbosch, so this was really a treat! It was a perfect day for it as I sat with Lisa, Amy, Jess and Greg and took in the day’s final rays of sun, watched adorable children take turns rolling down the hill, and snapped a few photos.

All in all, a great way to spend a Saturday afternoon/evening.

Blessed to be a Blessing

2010-09-14T16:35:00.011-04:00

My friend Veronica runs a school for 3-5 year olds in a run-down, difficult community. Appropriately named "iThemba," which means "Hope," this school in Capricorn (part of the Vryground community) is across the street from a drug house and few houses down from a shabeen. There is no sense in trying to protect the children that attend her school from what comes alongside such settings: they already know. By the time the children (ages 4-5) reach her classroom, they’ve seen it all. They know more about life and its hard lessons than most pre-teens. Or at least more than I did when I was that age.

For example: one morning this week, they had a discussion about how things were going for them at home. As they sat innocently in a circle on the carpet, two of her pupils (again, 4-5 years old) told a story of how they’d accidentally lit a bush on fire: while smoking cigarettes. Last week, she reports, they had a conversation about condoms and what they’re used for, because one of her students brought one and asked, and other students snickered in disbelief that they didn’t know. If she doesn’t talk to them, Veronica says to me, someone else will. It may as well be a conversation in a safe, controlled environment.

I will never be one to tell you that I had an easy childhood. I didn’t. From a young age, I too saw and experienced things no young child should ever have to. And yet, I cannot even begin to imagine what life is like for these children.

So today, I asked if I could just come and spend the day with them. I had no agenda except to support my friend who has a very, very difficult job. After being shown around the school, I made my way the the playground where the children were carrying on doing what these children should do often but seldom get the chance to: play. I ran races, spun in circles, pushed swings, climbed on a jungle gym cheered as they took turns on a slide.

I saw and experienced what I was told to expect, but how it felt cannot be so easily described. The pain, the distress, and the need to be loved was more evident in this group of 50 children than in any other group I have ever encountered. It was heartbreaking.

and yet… while it may be selfish, it also absolutely made my day. Not to see the hurt and the pain and the need, but to be able to see them be loved and cared for. Not by me! Good heavens, I hope I was able to love them a bit, but they need more than an afternoon. They need consistency and discipline and structure: these too are forms of great love. At this school, I know they have that.

They have that because my friend Veronica and her colleagues are the most committed, hard working, loving people I have ever seen at work.

Others told me what a strong, wonderful woman Veronica was and that maybe a visit would be an opportunity to encourage her. No doubt this was true, but it also served as something more: an opportunity for me to see the hands and feet of Jesus hard at work in the form of a beautiful woman who knows nothing less than how to love people well.

I pray that my own ministry can one day be even a remote reflection of what hers looks like. and I pray for Veronica’s continued courage and passion as she works to share the love of Christ with the children of her school in Capricorn.

Moving Uncomfortably Slow

2010-09-12T09:14:00.000-04:00

Its been a while since I updated, and things have been slow to get moving here. It is taking time to get to know people, to network, to become acquainted with the community I will be working with over the next few months.

It has been a slow journey to get moving, and, honestly, I have resented that at some times. I am used to being busy, all the time. When at SHADE, it felt like there was always something to do, always a deadline to meet. While it was (mostly) fulfilling work, we worked hard, long hours, and it was exhausting. Now that I’m on the other side of the spectrum, I don’t really know what to do with myself!

I am grateful for the support I have received and the encouragement to “take advantage” of this time. I know those words are right, but it is a difficult shift of mind and body (and spirit). I am working on not feeling guilty about not working when there is not work to do. Or not feeling guilty for having time off during “business hours” even when I know I have to go back to “work” for evening meetings or Bible Studies… or on Sunday mornings, for that matter.

Truly, I know better than to complain about there not being work to do in a church. There is ALWAYS work to be done in a church and I am well aware of that! But I am looking forward to investing more in the work I have come here to do, and until that ball is rolling a bit faster, I imagine I will continue to struggle with the “in between.” I just pray that until then, I will find a way to appreciate the gift of time that has been granted to me.

After all, after everything I have been through in the past few months, this “time” is likely just what I need. Now I must just make a way to live into that more fully…

It Is Well...

2010-09-01T10:11:00.000-04:00

This week I had one of “those moments” when all felt like it was right and good in the world again.

It had been a while since such a moment passed for me, and it was quite a relief.

I am always marveled at the passion, hard work and dedication of people who have served through important ministries for long periods of time. Once a week, Plumstead Methodist Church hosts a soup kitchen-type ministry known as “Hands and Feet.” It is a ministry to “street people” in the area, takes place each Tuesday morning, and has been led by one such dedicated individual for the past seven years. I appreciated the time, thought and effort he offered as he introduced me to a few people and offered some thoughts on the community, the program, and why its important. I am looking forward to returning and hearing more.

Following my visit, I entered into another conversation about the history of the ongoing mission related ministries at the church. I discovered a space to learn, a space to ask questions, and a space to reflect on my “outsiders” perspective of what mission in a church - in this church - does/can/should look like. Though a brief conversation, I discovered it to be a life-giving one. and in the midst of that discovery, I discovered something else: that perhaps this is the conversation I was called here to have. It certainly fits into my “job description,” but more than that, I am realizing that these are the questions I feel called to ask alongside the support, leadership and hope I feel called to give.

It has been a while since such a short, simple conversation was so rejuvenating - and I am grateful to be called awake for such a case as this.

Reception

2010-08-25T16:44:00.006-04:00

Well, friends: it is official. I must be back working in a church again; I can consider no other good reason for sitting in a meeting for nearly 3hrs in the evening!

I have spent this week as a bit of orientation as I prepare to dive fully into work here. In the short few days I have been here, small but important steps have been taken toward settling in. I have been given an office at Plumstead Methodist Church, I have made my first home visit and as a result a few new friends. We have even come up with a contract and job description, which we presented for approval at a church meeting tonight.

No matter where I go, no matter what titles I am given, no matter how much experience I’ve had, there is still one thing about any sort of ministry that remains consistent: it frightens the daylight out of me! Perhaps this is why, though I anticipated a warm welcome by this church who has been nothing but kind to me, the reaction I got tonight was somehow both overwhelming and incredibly humbling.

I was not just welcomed as another order of business, as perhaps I expected. My reception came with responses of genuine joy that I would be able to stay for longer than a few days this time. I received an overwhelming response of joy and thanksgiving that I am not sure I can express in words except to say that it could not have been warmer.

The warm welcome, of course, only humbles me more in acknowledging the privilege and power of change that can come in the next five “short” months. I am reminded of what great opportunities lie before us - both for me and for the congregation. I am reminded of who has called me, why I am called, and that for these reasons, I must push on regardless of the circumstances that have brought me to this place.

I am grateful that today I have been given more reasons to celebrate this journey, difficult as it may have been. and I look forward to more days of celebration and joy in the months to come.

A Running Start

2010-08-22T17:07:00.003-04:00

Today was my first full day in Cape Town, and it was certainly an eventful one.

It started beautiful with a peaceful (dry!) walk to the Plumstead Methodist Church, where I how great it is to be in “family worship” and to have a sermon be just the words I didn’t know I needed to hear. It was a good reminder of why I have come to love the church and faith communities so much. It has been a long time since I have had a church I could call home, and yet there is something about PMC that gives me that feeling every time, even as I am only beginning to get to know this community.

After church I had breakfast and spent the rest of the morning/early afternoon doing one of my favorite things that I haven’t done in months: I spent the morning reading the newspaper. Funny how its the small things that can make one so content.

Mid-afternoon I went with Pete and Lisa to another church in the circuit. The youth at the Methodist Church in Vryground, an informal settlement within our circuit, invited us for a program they prepared. They had spent time learning about their culture and invited us so they may have an audience to share it with. This was also their effort at a delayed “67 minutes” of volunteer service in honor of Nelson Mandela. (Mandela asked that for his birthday this year, every South African give 67 minutes of their time back to the community. 67 - in honor of the 67 years of his life he has given to community service. The youth were on retreat on Mandela’s birthday, so they decided to make it up today instead of skip it). The singing, dancing and sharing of food were incredible reminders of the beautiful mix of cultures and traditions we are living so nearby, and yet have so few opportunities to interact with and live into.

This evening, we (the whole family and I) went to see a stage production of Mama Mia! It was the first time I’ve been able to see it live, and it was great! As happens every time, I was marveled at the genius of how so many hit songs were put together to form this story line. The talent was incredible, from the acting to the dancing, and least of all the singing: the vocals really were phenomenal- and made the show. The costumes didn’t hurt much either, though, with an abundance of hilarious sequins and sparkles reminiscent of the age of ABBA. As great as the show was, I must confess: topping it off for me was an adorable little girl sitting in front of me who would get my attention every once in a while so she could say hello and get a smile and wave from me. She was great, and really added to the show in her own precious little way.

Indeed, this was an eventful day and a certain kick-start to my stay in Cape Town. While I anticipate a bit of a slower start to work and daily routines as I begin to settle in, I am grateful for such an incredible introduction to the local church, community, and recreation all in one day. I look forward to what the days ahead hold.

A Promise of Hope

2010-08-21T14:01:00.002-04:00

As I sit to type this, I’m curled up in a blanket next to a heater in the living room of my new home.

Today I moved to Cape Town. The gloomy, rainy weather greeted me with a shared emotion as I walked off the plane contemplative of my new life that begins today. It has been a difficult several months that have brought me to this place, and it is difficult to bid the people and places I have grown to love farewell. It is with a heavy heart that I move forward, and with a joyful one that I celebrate this new chapter as it begins.

I have to tell you - this time, the joy doesn’t come as easy as the sorrow. But I move forward as I remember the countless blessings that are before me...

I celebrate because I am blessed to be welcomed as a part of the family with whom I will now share a home; there is no better feeling than to know I am truly welcome, and know no one else with whom I could better trust to walk with me through this transition. Beyond family, Rev. Grassow has also been a great mentor to me, and I look forward to learning from him through the work and ministry we will share over the next few months.

For though the rain may come and the challenges roll in with the Cape wind, even through the gloom and gray skies, I cannot forget about one significant part of this gray, gloomy day: a rainbow was shinning brightly today, revealing itself from between the house and the trees. So goes life. No matter the challenges, to matter the struggle, no matter how great or difficult life may be, there is always a rainbow: there is always something to look forward to. Always something shinning brighter, something more to strive for. Always a hope of what tomorrow may bring.

So as I look forward to easier days of sunshine and clear skies, I give thanks for days like today when the reality of life changing before us has opportunity to sink in. and I give thanks for the many people in my life who have walked/are walking through the gloomy days with me, who are patient with me when I am the one in whom the storm brews, and who are the rainbows in my life: constant reminders of the promise of hope, love, and life that sits before us.

For Every Thing There is a Season...

2010-08-18T17:41:00.005-04:00

As I sit to write this, I realize I should be packing. However, I remain true to the procrastinator within, and think this is as good of a time as any to write a blog that has been a long time coming.

The past few months of my life have been anything but stable. If I told you all of the stories of my life from these last few months, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t believe me. I’m not sure I would, if I hadn’t lived it. The good news is this: I have had a couple of weeks and some really great friends who have helped me to process many of the events, and life is slowly but surely turning around.

This is my attempt at a “short” version of what I have been up to the past few months.

First, the good news: Our (SHADE’s) Education Centre closed at the end of June. It was a bitter-sweet closing. I truly loved my time teaching and getting to know each of our students, and was sad to see them go. I also experienced for the first time the joy of a teacher when she (or he) sees her students succeed. In many ways, I felt like I was more proud on graduation day than they were, and I have an entirely new appreciation for the teachers who helped me along my journey. I had no idea the work, hope, love and joy that come not just from teaching, but from watching students succeed or walk across the state. To all of the students of Espoir Centre: Congratulations!

The week after graduation was when the whirlwind of my life began to pick up. SHADE has undergone a lot of changes since moving to Johannesburg in January. As the Training Centre prepared to close, concerns about SHADE had begun to grow. Is the work (and financial need) of SHADE sustainable? Will there be enough work for THREE Mission Interns to keep busy? Would it perhaps be in the better interest of SHADE to not have Missionaries they needed to be concerned with while they were also undergoing other large changes that had little to do with us, but that would affect our work? One of the biggest questions had little to do with our work, but with growing concerns over our housing situation: it was increasingly clear that it would be best if we could move to a safer, healthier place near people, especially as tensions grew with our landlord. Basically, all of the concerns for SHADE we have had over the past several months boiled down to one big question: is the best place for us (Mission Interns) really at SHADE?

As Hannah, Rachel and I each took time to pray and reflect on some of these questions, so did some of the staff at GBGM. In the end, the decision GBGM came to was that it would be best for all parties if the three of us were re-appointed to work with other ministries for the rest of the duration of our international placements. This means we were looking for work within the Methodist Church of Southern Africa and preparing to begin placements all over again. In many ways, it was reminiscent of the anxiety over my placement I had while waiting to hear in June and July of 2009, or again in September 2009 when it was changed last minute.

This decision was not an easy one. The days that followed, the questions that have been asked and addressed, the move that took place: these are the encounters that create the unbelievable stories that are now to be tallied in my crazy book of life. We have new memories of the sad day we packed up our desks. We have crazy stories about the day we moved all of our personal belongings out of our house in 15 minutes. Stories of adrenaline, of joy, of sorrow. Stories that make me sad, bring me joy, or just make be laugh in unbelief.

One of our biggest concerns was free time: we had already wrapped up our work at SHADE. The World Cup ended two days after we told Papa David we were leaving. Would we waste away with no work to do for the next month?

Of course, God has this all under control. On Tuesday, 13 July, 4 days after we were officially done with our work at SHADE, I wrote this blog about meeting my friends Emily and Joanne for the first time. Little did we know this would not be a one-time pastoral visit. Quite the contrary, we returned the next morning to greet and pray with their newly arrived family from the US, and basically, we never left. We took so well to Jen and Matt (Emily’s parents, Joanne’s son and daughter-in-law) that they were soon telling the nurses we were immediate family so we could spend more time with them in the ICU. They were in South Africa nearly a month, during which time we saw them every day, blessed with opportunities to love, laugh, pray, sing, watch movies, share meals, etc. with them. We even took our turns staying overnight with Emily; Emily had become like a little sister to me, and it was as if I had known them my entire life.

As they prepared to leave, it was only then that I realized how much we needed each other during this time. God really did have it under control: we could not have made it through that trying, difficult month of change without them and without another ministry to keep us busy. As the Kerstetters packed up to go home, I made may way to Durban (a much needed vacation I wrote about below). Another week at home in Johannesburg to pack and get ready to go, and here I am: Saturday I move to Cape Town, where a new chapter of my life and work will begin. I am moving nearly 2 months after serious conversations of moving began, and I somehow do not feel like I have had enough “down” time to even process all of these changes. Yet I am grateful to be moving forward before I have begun to feel stagnant. Balance is everything, so though I am not yet sure if I am ready to go, I move forward this week, leaving Rachel and Hannah in Johannesburg, where they still await their appointments.

Though I know this “update” is long, vague and nondescript, I hope it also serves as a small window into some of the changes that have occurred. My next updates will be from Cape Town, where I slowly put the pieces of my life and work together again, hopefully gleaning valuable lessons from the challenges of the past several months. As I do so, and as Rachel and Hannah continue in a state of transition and uncertainty, I ask your continued prayers and support. For if there is anything that can be said with absolute certainty from the past 10 months, it is that we would not have made it through without prayer.

Real Life

2010-08-10T17:31:00.000-04:00

I just got home from what turned out to be one of the most restorative and life-filled weeks I have had in the past two months. Where was I, you ask? With friends. In Durban, to be precise, but then that’s just a city. The location didn’t matter. The conversations with people-who-get-me, the hospitality and no-expectations, the just-be-yourself-safe-space did matter.

This combination of days turned to a week were just what I’d been looking for. and to think: the day before the journey, I was still debating if I should cancel it. I just have too much to do, important people I want to see and spend time with here in Joburg, packing and planning to do. What terrible timing for some “holiday” I planned months ago, before I had any idea how much my life would change between then and now.

How my life has changed is a blog I’ve been mulling in my head as I try to figure out a way to share about it: when that comes, or when I am more settled into those changes (whichever comes first), I’ll be sure to share all about it. In the interim, I’m resting in one of the things I have taken away from this week.

Now: This moment: That’s all that matters.

In the past few months, perhaps since moving to South Africa, I have been overwhelmed with stress or anxiety. For the first time in my life, I was made physically sick by all of the stress in my life. If you know me at all, you know the magnitude of that statement, as I have certainly been no stranger to stress. Some of this was self-inflicted, the most of it wasn’t. But I suppose the result of stressful things you can do nothing about is often more stress. So the cycle continued.

This past week, I stepped out of my growing bubble in Johannesburg and visited some American friends living in Durban. It was good to spend time with them and digest some of my life from the past few months. They understand all too well the elements at play in my life here, and it was healthy to digest and process my life with people who understand but are outside the situation. The opportunity to be honest and take down the walls of protection over involved parties was like a breath of fresh air.

Fresh air. Spring is in the air. In Durban, some days are so warm you forget winter has not yet passed in full. Fresh air on the beach, soaking in sun on my first full day in Durban could not have been a more welcome treat. We sat for hours in silence, listening to the waters crash, the birds chirp, the people laughing and talking around us. Beautiful Serenity.

Days that followed brought trips to good coffee shops (finally- good espresso!!), watching movies, non-work related chatter over countless shared meals and games of cards. We played with their 3 cats and I visited with their Monday night Bible Study group. I even read an entire book - the first time I’ve managed to finish a book since February or March.

All of this, and as I sit home reflecting on this “ordinary” week that didn’t involve typical site-seeing tourism as may be expected on a vacation (and first trip to a new city), all I can think about is how great it felt to be back to “normal.”

No negative stress. No overwhelming anxiety. No to-do lists looming or people questioning my actions. No one to check in with. Just time with friends, space for honesty, and a bit of healthy competition over a few too many rounds of “Nertz.”

At the end of the day, I can’t help but wonder:
Maybe this simple stuff is what life is really “about.”

Trading My Sorrows

2010-07-19T16:01:00.000-04:00

Today I was at the hospital visiting with my new friend Joanne - an incredible woman of faith - when the words to the song "Trading My Sorrows" came to mind. I haven't been able to shake these words since then, and I am realizing that this song which already has great memories tied to it, will now take on new meanings in my life.

Today, as I hum this old tune late into the evening, I realize that I am thankful for the way the most unexpected, unanticipated things can turn into such rich blessings and moments of joy - even in the midst of sorrow and pain.

Joanne has served as an incredible example of what it means to "Trade our sorrows" over the past week, and I am incredibly thankful our paths have touched - even if they could not have done so if it were not for the pain and suffering she must endure.

Trading My Sorrows

I'm trading my sorrows

I'm trading my shame

I'm laying them down for the joy of the Lord.

I'm trading my sickness.

I'm trading my pain

I'm laying them down for the joy of the Lord.

Singing yes Lord, yes Lord, yes yes Lord...

I am pressed but not crushed,

persecuted not abandoned.

Struck down but not destroyed.

I am blessed beyond the curse

For his promise will endure,

and His joy's gonna be my strength...

Though the sorrow may last for the night,

His Joy comes with the morning

United In Prayer

2010-07-13T17:23:00.007-04:00

One of the things I loved the most about the World Cup is how small it made the world feel. It truly was a blessing to celebrate “futbol” with others from around the globe, and to be able to celebrate together even when cheering for opposing teams.

Sunday night was the final game. All over the world, people were tuned in to see who would win the cup this year: Netherlands or Spain. I was no exception. I went to a fan park to watch the match on a big screen in Johannesburg with thousands of others. People gathered in this way all around the world.

They gathered that night in places in Kampala, Uganda, too.

My night ended in celebrations with new and old friends.

Uganda has a different story to tell.

During the final match, the Somali terrorist group al-Shabab, who is linked to al-qaeda, sent suicide bombers to two places in Kampala where people gathered to watch the match: an Ethiopian restaurant, and a rugby club.

I first heard about the blasts on Monday afternoon, when I heard through friends that Nate Henn of Invisible Children had been at the rugby club and didn’t make it. His death is a huge loss to all humankind… read a bit about him in this IC blog.

As news travelled, I soon learned through a blog posted on CNN by Thomas Kemper, GBGM General Secretary, that there were two UMC Mission Teams in Uganda at the time: One team (from Alabama) was completely unharmed, while the other team (from Pennsylvania) reported that 5 of its 6 team members sustained injuries (some very serious), though all were in stable condition.

This morning, we got a phone call. Due to Rachel’s connections to home and the Pennsylvania Conference, she had been put in touch with the pastor of the church where these missionaries are from. At the time we were told three, we now know only two, of the missionaries (a high school girl and her grandmother) were being sent to Johannesburg for “specific or higher quality medical services.” It took us all day to find their names and which hospital, but as soon as we retained that information, we made our way there.

Both are in ICU, where the medical staff are truly taking great care of them. They even let us break the two-at-a-time rule so the three of us (Rachel, Hannah and I) could greet them together for the first time.

It was a privilege to hold the hands of, speak with and pray for these two incredible women tonight. It is humbling to see their unstoppable desire to be of something greater than themselves, even when they have been through so much. Had it not been for the bombing, they would have made their way home today after serving in Uganda for the past month. No doubt, they are longing for home more now than ever. Yet that was far from the first thing we heard. What did we hear first?

Prayer requests.

Prayers for their three beloved Ugandan friends sitting next

to them at the restaurant, who did not make it:

Pastor Peter, Becky, and Francis.

Prayers for their only teammate who did not sustain severe

injuries, as she stays behind to bury their friends.

Prayers for their 3 teammates who also sustained injuries and were
still to travel to hospitals outside of Uganda
for further medical help.

(We have now received word that they are at a hospital in Nairobi)

Prayers for everyone they left behind: the church, children and
community they worked with and grew to love during the past month.

Lastly: Prayers for themselves: for healing, coping with

pain, for the difficult processing as they try to

wrap their minds around it all.

Their request is a humble one, and yet so urgent. Tonight I was reminded of what a very, very small world we live in. I am grateful that our God hears our prayers, no matter how great or small the world feels. I am grateful for this, and for opportunities to laugh together at a bedside as we decided that the prayers of the children they left behind are probably reaching the ears of God long before ours: there is nothing like the faith of a child!

These are two women of tremendous faith, and no doubt their intense prayer and love for others have sustained them. Wont you please join me in praying with and for them?

Soccer Fever

2010-06-24T16:47:00.001-04:00

The seas of people keep us warm in the bitter cold. It was about 20 degrees last night... and I was warmer in the crowd than in my house. Yet I was never uncomfortable or inappropriately touched, etc. There was one near-instance of a creepy drunk guy one night last week, but I didn't even have to say anything - some guy I'd never seen or met sent him away, with a simple turn, smile, nod from me as a thank you... before I went on celebrating with the multitudes of others around me. Can you imagine that - from a guy who wasn't even interested in anything but general comfort in the crowd. (and he wasn't the security guard - I'd already made friends with her, ha)

The fan parks are a world in and of themselves. We went the night of the USA-England opener. Soccer is one of those few places/times I feel I can proudly proclaim I am an American - especially on foreign soil. I (we - my roommates and I) proudly sang our national anthem at the top of our lungs with the few faithful around me (surrounded by England fans prepared to cheer against us). As we did so, people literally lined up to take photos of us singing. One guy said I was helping him fulfill his goal: He wants photos of fans from every country entered in the World Cup. Knowing all the words to a national anthem is a pretty sure sign we weren't lying about where we are from, even if many argued with me because I don't have (as thick of) an American accent, like my roommates do. I guess my accent has changed more than I thought?

Its a beautiful thing, isn't it? The World Cup? I have connected with so many friends from all over the world because of it, and met countless more while out and about. Even if temporary, this is exactly the start of community I was hoping and praying for one month ago. I am less lonely when I get to meet people, feel like I'm alive, dance to my heart's content, watch soccer more than I've been able to in my entire life (I watched at least part of every game the first week… and have done my best to keep up since then, though life must also move on...).

The days are full of energy and excitement, and the nights are COLD but kept warm with Soccer FEVER! With no insulation and no indoor heat here in good ‘ol RSA, its kind of like camping when its 20 degrees outside - every night - without a campfire! woot!

This only adds to why I like to go out as much as possible. It is warmer outside than in (really - unless its terribly windy), and the crowds make it even warmer! AND - the one place we can find a heater is in the car. so I like it there.

There have been more adventures relating to the World Cup than I can count. Perhaps I will have a chance to recount some of them here. But until then… I hope you are watching and may the best team win! That being said… GO USA!!!! (this photo was taken immediately following Donovan's AMAZING goal in the 95th minute of game 3!)

...can YOU feel it?

Wavin Flag

2010-06-17T14:29:00.002-04:00

If we are friends on Facebook or you follow me on Twitter, you’ve probably noticed I’m a little excited about the World Cup. We’re one week, several celebrations, a few heartbreaks and many good memories in. It is a good time to be in South Africa, and I’m doing my best to be a part of the excitement.

If there is one thing that has been consistent throughout the past 12 or so years of my life, it is that I have been deeply tied to the music which surrounds me. For me, music isn’t just about a good beat to dance to or fun lyrics to sing along to (though I do enjoy both of these things), but often about the heart and soul that has been put into it. These aren’t just lyrics… they’re poems with powerful stanzas put to music that helps me to feel the words. Words on a page can be powerful… but there is nothing like the spoken (or sung) word.

I can tie most moments of my life to music. Or the reverse - when I hear songs from the last 15 years, I can usually tell you what year it is from simply by tracing the memories closely tied to it. Just like before, there are many songs that will forever remind me of this moment now - the World Cup. Earlier this week, two incredible young people in my life (7 and 11 yrs old!) gifted me a mixed CD titled “Prince and Pricilla’s World Cup Mix.” It has lived in our car since then, and I have probably heard it played 10 times over.

The second song on the CD (second only to Shakira and Freshly Ground’s Waka Waka!) is K’Naan’s “Wavin Flag” - the official World Cup anthem. I LOVE this song! It is overplayed, for sure, but it is so uplifting! Lyrics like,
    See the champions, take the field now,
    Unify us, make us feel proud!
    In the streets our heads are lifin’
    As we lose our inhibition.
    Celebration, it surrounds us,
    Every nation’s, All Around Us...

Hearing someone sing this song in South Africa is almost as common as hearing a vuvuzela being blown. Almost.

Earlier this week, I googled the full lyrics to this song. What I found was a huge surprise…

Did you know this isn’t the original song?

Evidently K’Naan was approached by Coke - they wanted to buy rights of this song b/c the chorus and beat would be PERFECT for the official anthem! But the lyrics? A little down and harsh, and NOT what they were looking for. Knowing what this could do for his career, he volunteered to re-write the song for them. What resulted is this song I love.

So what about that old song? I looked it up. and downloaded it. and what did I find? An intense, powerful, meaningful few stanzas packed with truth, pain, stories of survival and hope. Filled with harsh realities I’m not surprised Coke wanted to get rid of - who wants to think about realities of suffering in our world today when we are trying to focus on a global celebration and sports event?

I’ll leave space for your own criticisms for the many variables here. The truth is - had he not re-written this song, I may have never found the old one - and I’m glad I did.

The intense verses and deep, painful truths lined with hope in the chorus draw me into this song. Its a keeper, and one I will continue to reflect on in days (or more) to come. For now, I invite you to consider the “original” lyrics of the official song of the World Cup - a song that has been made into a song of celebration, and started as something very, very different. The music and chorus are the same… the other words are all (very) different.

When I get older, I will be stronger,
They'll call me freedom, just like a Waving Flag,
And then it goes back, and then it goes back,
And then it goes back

Born to a throne, stronger than Rome
but Violent prone, poor people zone,
But it's my home, all I have known,
Where I got grown, streets we would roam.
But out of the darkness, I came the farthest,
Among the hardest survival.
Learn from these streets, it can be bleak,
Except no defeat, surrender retreat,

So we struggling, fighting to eat and
We wondering when we'll be free,
So we patiently wait, for that fateful day,
It's not far away, so for now we say

[Chorus]

So many wars, settling scores,
Bringing us promises, leaving us poor,
I heard them say, love is the way,
Love is the answer, that's what they say,
But look how they treat us, Make us believers,
We fight their battles, then they deceive us,
Try to control us, they couldn't hold us,
Cause we just move forward like Buffalo Soldiers.

But we struggling, fighting to eat,
And we wondering, when we'll be free
So we patiently wait, for that faithful day,
It's not far away, but for now we say...

World Cup

2010-06-15T10:47:00.001-04:00

If the world is focused in on the World Cup right now, then South Africa has been taken over by it. and to be honest, I am LOVING it.

I love the sport we Americans call soccer, while most of the rest of the world calls it football. I love the energy of it. I love the global community created by it. I love the passion found in small children everywhere in the world as they play it. I love watching the games here with the wild and crazy crowds. I even love the overwhelming noise of the vuvuzela that goes almost nonstop.

It is good to be in this beautiful, friendly country called South Africa for this incredible event called the World Cup.

(more soon…)

What it means to be loved.

2010-05-30T17:39:00.002-04:00

Excerpts from an email sent to a trusted friend today in regard to the situation I wrote about in my last post: “The Face of Injustice.”

2 days later, I'm still angry. But mostly I'm sad. and equally helpless.

The situation I wrote about is deeply personal. It is not just “a man” I wrote about, but a friend. It is difficult because I feel like the whole situation has "moved on" and nothing has been done. I spoke with my friend - the man who has still not been paid - this morning. His boss has "apologized," but still no money has been seen. He says there will be pay tomorrow, we'll see. Poor guy. He can't go anywhere, he literally has nothing and no one.

As with any human situation, there are just so many layers. They have no place to go, and so life goes on. It is such a delicate situation. I want to act on their behalf, but I can't because I know in the end it may very well NOT be better for them. The last thing they need is us making his boss even more angry, pushing him away and reducing chances that they would receive any money. And with xenophobic attacks increasing and threatening to get worse again, they would rather be "safe" here and not paid than being in danger out on the streets of the city. Or freezing in the cold with their 2-year old.

Its difficult when these situations that would make great ethics situations to argue over in a classroom become real-life, and action is so difficult.

Its also difficult when the last two mornings began for them by being yelled at by their boss/landlord. Yesterday her. Today him. Will it ever stop?

Also - I feel sorry for their boss. I have not stopped thinking about this situation, about these people. Though I could easily say a dozen terrible things about him, the reality is I can’t stop thinking about him; I feel so, so sorry for him.

The more I know about this situation and the parties involved, the more this is true. The boss doesn't know how else to treat people. He has learned from his own terrible experiences. He has shared stories of his own life: people have always taken advantage of him, stolen his money, broken his heart, etc. He is lonely. I wonder if he has anyone who really, truly loves and cares for him? The stories I have heard suggest not. They suggest a life of being taken advantage of, being used, abused, and spat upon. If this is what he knows, can we expect him to display different actions?

Don’t get me wrong- I am not excusing him for his actions. He is still responsible. But hearing his story - it helps me to be compassionate, and it breaks my heart for him.

Can you imagine living that life? How can I not feel sorry for him? How can I not see his broken side and also seek to love him as Christ calls us to love, to help to heal the broken, even when it calls us to see beyond a thick black cloud of sin and brokenness?

Music. This is what I do when I am too full of thoughts to function: I listen to music. First, I thought of him when I heard a song called “Either Way” by Guster: “Were you ever kind? Were you always cruel? Who’s ever seen that other side of you? Happened every time, so it must be true: where did you learn its either him or you?”

Seeing both sides of the cycle of brokenness and pain is important to staying grounded in why it is we are called to “love our enemies” - a difficult but foundational part of our call as Christians.

That brings me to point 2 - A prayer that is Scriptural and that we've heard a thousand times, but so honest and realistic and appropriate here - "Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do..." It goes on and describes pain, ways of people hurting others. Yes, I believe deep down inside, the boss knows what he is doing is selfish and wrong. But truly don’t think he is capable of comprehending the extend to which this is true. I dont think he can, because it requires the presence of real love to understand the ways we hurt each other, the depths to which we dig into one another's souls.

So this is where I've been the last couple of days. Silenced but wanting desperately not to be. Yet trying to act in love. It is a difficult, difficult burden to bare, but an essential one, I believe. Central to all I believe, perhaps the most important thing that influences my life and makes me who I am - even if I know I fail at living it out sometimes - is the idea that Christ came in LOVE. As a Christian I am called to LOVE. To LOVE my neighbor as myself. Specifically, Christ calls us to love our enemies...? I read Scripture often that talks about love, it is central to who I believe Christians SHOULD be. Its challenging, though - like this passage (from Luke 6 - Jesus is speaking):

27“But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, 28bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. ... 32“If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. 33If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. 34If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. 35But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. ... 36Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

Challenging, but I believe this is perhaps the greatest truth of Christianity. or at least it should be. How different would our world be if Christians truly strived to live this out?

The reality is, I don’t LIKE this man! I don’t know that I would have the courage to stand with him, to be the friend to him he so badly needs. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t see beyond my emotions that are tied up. I can see that deep within is a broken, hurting child of God - who is, like me, created in God’s image. I also know that as a woman of faith, I am called to LOVE - and not just those who love me. I know that I cam called to love my neighbor… and not just my neighbors who love me.

So. Where does this leave me? Thinking about how my emotions are one thing, but I believe love is something entirely apart from that. I am grateful it is. Can you imagine if love rested solely on emotions? I think people letting love rest only in our emotions is a source of so much conflict and heartache in the world.

I desire to move beyond that.

But I don’t know how.

I'm still praying for guidance. I'm still praying for wisdom to know which action to take. Praying that I remember that every great action requires great risk. I am willing to take risk, but this is more difficult when that great risk is also someone else's. I cannot make that decision of risk for them, and we cannot be sure any action I take would be for the greater good.

This does not mean that I must take no action. There must be balance somewhere. I am praying for a clear vision of what the “third way” might be. For now, I remain in hopeful prayer. I remain hopeful because of the hope I am able to share. Because I am told by my friend that the trust we share as he has come to me offers him hope. Because I am able to be a source of light in the darkness. Because I know that in Christ there is hope for all things, and for all people, and because tonight, I am choosing to look for the good in all people - even in the very ones who have persecuted us. It is not easy. No one said it would be. But Christ is my strength, my hope, my redeemer. Christ is the strong rock and foundation on which I stand.

That is what brings me hope.

The Face of Injustice

2010-05-28T15:31:00.003-04:00

Today has been a very, very difficult day.

Shortly after our work day ended I entered into a difficult conversation. A man who lives nearby had entered into a struggle with his boss, also the owner of the land on which he and his family live. I will spare the long, complicated, difficult struggle he shared. What I will share is the basic, difficult facts: he and his wife live and work on this property. They earn their keep by working on the property. She works in the house twice/week (she has another job) and he maintains the whole (big!) property in conjunction to their house, including a full garden, feeding the animals, taking care of the yard, functioning as a full time security guard, etc - he works 7 days a week. In exchange, he should be receiving a humble monthly stipend on which they can live, feed their small family, etc.

The problem has been boiling up for a while, but today a line was crossed. Today, this man went to his boss and asked for his salary. He hasn’t been paid in two months, and he can’t wait any longer. His family, like any, has needs - and needs cost money. A seemingly reasonable request, this conversation turned into him getting yelled at, which turned into him being fired and told to leave the property immediately. While witnesses (neighbors, etc) will attest to his consistent hard work day in and day out, his boss insists that this is not the case. His boss even went as far as to say that while at his own place of employment, he watches the property with a pair of binoculars to see if anyone is outside working, and he therefore refuses to pay based on not seeing him while spying…

The result of this conversation led to my friend being asked to leave without any pay from the last few months. Not just to quit working, but to leave the property altogether. Told (dared?) to take what belongings he can carry and move one, then. Obviously, he is angry and scared. He desperately needs this salary promised to him. Obviously, as winter comes in, he needs a shelter to sleep in, a place his family (including a young daughter) can call home.

There are so many layers to this story, if only I could get into it… but in the end, I come to one question: how can this situation be understood as anything but slavery.

I can’t believe I’m typing these words. I can’t believe this situation is so real. Or so personal. Or right in front of my face.

This family has been working for their landowner for two years. She works for free, in exchange for rent and utilities. He works seven days a week, and most of the time (not all) he gets paid a very, very humble salary their family struggles to live on. He reports that he rarely gets the full promised stipend, but often gets paid "slowly, slowly." Now imagine that this already humble salary hasn’t been paid - at all - in months. So he’s working full time for free. and being told what? That at least he has a place to stay.

Come to think of it, slaves even got food to eat. It may not have been much, it may not have been great, but at least they weren’t typically expected to go hungry altogether.

The thing is, I’m not even sure if this man is even in the country legally. I didn’t ask. If he’s not, he can’t go to the police. If he is, the police may not help him anyway. This is a small town. People are friends here. Friends help their friends, even at the cost of such great injustice.

What can I do? How can I help? How can this injustice exist so openly in my own backyard?

I am so angry. I am so sad. I am so frustrated. I am confused and bitter and I have so many questions. I hardly know where to begin.

I live in South Africa. The history of Apartheid is not distant here. The reality of Apartheid is not forgotten and has certainly not gone away. I know many great white people who have contributed to the greater good of South Africa on behalf of justice even when it cost them something. Today, I am trying to remember these people, because otherwise, it would be really easy to be angry and bitter toward my own race as I watch a wealthy white man treat a black man this way because - it seems - he can. (and yet he CAN'T!)

This is not the end. I am sure I will post more. I hope this story will bring a good ending, an ending of wrongs made right, and ending of injustices coming to bring justice. An ending that gives evidence to God’s grace and love and faithfulness. I know all of these things are present, and I look forward to the day I can bring forth these messages. To the day I can tell you all about how God was with us through it all.

Until that day, I pray for all modern-day slaves all over the world. I have been told they’re out there. I’ve heard stories and read statistics. About a month ago I told my roommate it has become a new(?) interest of mine, something I have been reading and praying a lot about. Something I feel God calling me to learn more about. I want to learn more and get involved.

Now I’m involved, and I don't know where to turn. Now I’m learning through first-hand experience and I miss my "safe" news articles. Wanting to help feels very different when its third-party. But then… Jesus was never a third-party to those he came to help. If I am called to be the hands and feet of Christ as a missionary in South Africa, I pray for God’s guidance and strength and courage and knowledge in the days that come. I pray I can use my voice for a greater good. I know that had I not been in that exact place at that exact time tonight, even this story would not have been heard. This man would not have been able to share with us, or to walk away from the conversation as he did, telling us, “now I have hope. Thank you."

Thank you, friend, for being strong, courageous and honest, and for letting me be a part of your story.

Thank you, reader, for reading through my unfiltered blog post as I try to make sense of senselessness, to find the grace amidst chaos, and seek ways to bring hope to the abused, forgotten, or neglected.

Pray for us all.

The Sound of Music

2010-05-27T17:21:00.006-04:00

Tonight I was blessed with the opportunity to spend the evening supporting one of the incredible young people in my life. Nissia, the youngest of Mama Tembo’s five daughters, is a joyful, lovable ball of energy, and more than once “dramatic” (in the good sense) is a word I have used to describe her.

Nissia came home in February excited that her school was holding auditions for a musical she had never heard of, “The Sound of Music.” Excited, Hannah, Rachel and I immediately began to sing our favorite songs from this classic musical. We laughed, sang, even wrote out words to songs so we could teach her before her call-back. Every time we turned around, Nissia was practicing!

Her hard work paid off. Nissia was cast as one of the children, and her joy and excitement could not have hit a higher level (even for Nissia - and that’s really saying something!). We immediately promised we would see her when performance time came.

I’m not sure where time has gone since then (its almost June!), but the time finally arrived. Tonight, we filled our car and made our way to her beautiful school. To be honest, I was REALLY nervous for her - like a proud mother! To no one’s surprise, though, she did AMAZING, and the show was great! I am so proud of her, and so happy to have been able to be a part of this big night for her - her first time in a theatre production!

During intermission, the guest of honor, “grandfather of South African Theatre” John Kain was introduced. During his short speech, he noted that he has enjoyed watching the audience and proud parents almost more than the students. He too questioned who was more nervous… parents? or students? I laughed as I realized that for the first time, I felt like the proud mother.

It is good to be here. To support her like my child, or like a kid sister; to be a family. It is good that though we have struggled together and independently through a great deal, on night’s like tonight we get to come together and celebrate accomplishments too.

It is good to be family.

Following an Example

2010-05-21T06:50:00.008-04:00

I am sitting in a session of Synod at which we are discussing same-sex relationships, and I am silently crying inside right now.

It is so difficult. It was appreciated that both sides were given an opportunity to be heard. First to be heard was the side that was the “sympathetic and embracing” position. The persons presenting were asked to be neutral and not state which side they agreed with, but to present neutrally. One person to present each side. The first person alluded to the fact that they were not pleased to present the pro-side, but was faithful to this request of neutrality. He read off of a powerpoint with a few side comments to explain. Overall, it was a factual, honest, unemotional argument.

Then comes the second argument. That which is against. It began with the speaker stating, “I do not agree! and I am prepared to tell you why.” Obviously, a different beginning, as his argument was emotionally charged and sought to engage the synod in a different manner. He deconstructed church policies, reading through a list that include statements such as, “seek to be well-informed,” and proclaiming, “I do not agree!”

What is it that we should ever NOT seek to be informed about? Seeking information, compassion or understanding does not mean one should have to change their minds, even. But how dare we condemn anyone without first having compassion for them? Did Jesus not do the same thing? Yes! In the Hebrew Bible it says that one who commits adultery should be stoned to death. Does Jesus not forgive the woman who is caught in adultery, saying, “let he who has no sin, cast the first stone”?

This is a message of compassion, forgiveness, love and kindness - how does this example of Christ escape us for “these people”?

As a church, we seek to follow Christ. Yes, it is true that Christ condemned sins. But in doing so, he never excluded or exiled sinners. He invited them to follow him. He welcomed them. He said that ALL are welcome at the table. He went out of his way to help both those understood to be sinners, and the faithful who believed. More often than not, these people were the same: Doesn’t he say that it is the sick who need a doctor? If we acknowledge we need Jesus, we acknowledge we are all sinners. Therefore we must make our way to a place where we do not condemn one another, where we do not judge who is sinning where or when, or whose sin is “greater” than another.

As a (global) church, we must not lose sight of our primary call. We are called to live faithfully into the example Christ has set before us. When it comes to the tax collector, the lepers, or the adulterers, for a few among many, how is it that we see and wish to share Jesus’ compassion and love and inclusion of these persons, and yet we consistently fail to share Jesus’ compassion and love and inclusion for others? Today, the issue at hand is homosexuality. Not long ago, it was women in the church. Not long before that, it was slavery.

How do we discern?

We do not have to have a solution. We do not have to all agree. But we do have to keep following Jesus. We do have to follow the path of Jesus which has been set before us: a path of compassion. A path of kindness, forgiveness, and love. A path of welcoming inclusion. No one said following Jesus would be easy. Inviting, welcoming and learning from those with whom we disagree will never be easy. Nor was it easy for Jews to welcome gentiles. Nor was it easy for anyone to walk away when Jesus said, “let he who has no sin, cast the first stone.” As times changed, it was not easy for Bishops to recant their public statements that slavery is discussed clearly in Scripture and should not be condemned. This journey is not an easy one. In fact, Jesus promised it wouldn’t be. My hope is neither that it would be easy, nor that a decision would be made to tear the church apart. Rather, my hope is that we might continue journeying together on issues which are most controversial, and as we do so, may we practice the mercy, love, and compassion Jesus has first shown us.

Change in Perspective

2010-05-20T10:45:00.002-04:00

It has been quite some time since I have written. A lot has happened since then. Namely, I have been blessed by three weeks of hosting guests. On the 25th of April, my older sister Alicia arrived in Johannesburg, and stayed for two weeks, through the 8th of May. On the 4th of May, my friend and fellow ’09 Ride:Well Tour teammate Cody arrived, and he also stayed for two weeks, through the 17th of May. Needless to say, the past month has flown by.

Many reflections have come from this time. It was incredible and strange and difficult all at the same time to have them here. Obviously, there is a comfort from having people from “home” in a place on the other side of the world (which I now call “home”). There were also challenges. This place is different from where we are used to being together. Context, culture, people, circumstances, etc. - all of these things have shifted. It was exciting and new for my guests; they came enthusiastic to learn about and experience this new place. What I did not anticipate was how I might experience my life differently with an added lens of friends/family by my side.

Teaching someone about my life here is very different when I am not just sharing stories, but inviting them to see for themselves. Some of the sharing was difficult. It involved cultural and historical understandings of the land in which I live. Discussions about Apartheid and race and culture. Some of the sharing was lighter and more “fun” - introducing friends, colleagues, and my “family” here, sharing food and local traditions, visiting places I love. Then there were the other things, the small things that made us laugh together - the ways my accent has changed, the language I have adapted, the music we listen to, driving on the left side of the road.

Over the past month, I have been reflecting for the first time on different types of culture shock. when I think of culture shock I have always thought that I would be the one needing to move to a new place to experience it. I have realized through this experience that home comes to me, the same types of “culture shock” can apply. Not to the same extreme, of course, but in a whole new way: how do I balance my new life and changed self, with the old, expected self friends are coming to see and visit?

These are some of the issues and questions I have been mulling over. My hope is that more will come on these topics in the next few days as I seek time to write further reflections.

Digging Deep: Speaking the Unspoken

2010-04-08T15:51:00.003-04:00

A lot of what we discuss during Spirituality and Health week at the Centre is theory. Much of what we are learning is difficult to learn in any other way: Christian Ethics was our first topic. Healing and wholeness are topics discussed every week. Discipleship and Counseling are just two topics, among others, that are yet to come. While each of these lessons will (hopefully) play a role beyond the classroom, it is helpful to begin there first. We must understand what (Christian) African Ethics are and why they are important if we want to live holistic Christian African lives.

The same was absolutely true this week as we entered into another delicate but essential topic: HIV/AIDS. It is essential that we as community leaders are well informed about HIV/AIDS, for as we talked about this week, it impacts everyone. If one is not infected, they are affected. Everyone agreed this is true in all of our communities, even if we are unwilling or unable to talk about it. It cannot be ignored any longer, and this week our students learned all about it.

What do we do, then? How can we prevent further spreading of HIV if some communities will not even acknowledge its existence beyond the works of witchcraft? No one said it would be easy, but we all agreed, the key to preventing further infection always comes back to one thing: education!

The students learned this week that education starts with the basics: how does one get infected? There are only three ways: can you name them? You may successfully avoid means of further infection from now on, but: do you know your status today? What if your neighbor, friend, or kin discover they are HIV+? Do you know what that means? Do you know the ways you will NOT be infected if you continue to interact with them? Do you understand testing HIV+ means a lifestyle shift is in order, and that it does not mean the positive person is facing a death sentence? In many places today, if medication (ARVs) are needed, they are distributed for free! As are means of prevention of spreading the virus, such as condoms. To discuss sex, condoms or STIs is not easy nor is it often welcome in public domain, but it is necessary.

This is what we are aiming for at Espoir: ways to take all the theory and facts we are learning in our lessons in the classroom, and move out into the community to share them. This is the goal of each of our students when they return to their home countries in July. We must practice and have experience before we begin to teach, however. So this week, each of our students took one day out of the classroom to visit a VCT clinic. Many had never seen one before. Some had never been tested. This changed for many of us at SHADE as we (students and staff) were (voluntarily) tested together. We then stared fear in the face as comfort was thrown away so we could personally visit HIV patients with trained home-based caregivers. What was the most common response upon returning from visits? “They looked so healthy! I never would have known…”

The Methodist Church of Southern Africa has a campaign that says, “The Church has HIV/AIDS.” We - Christians - have AIDS. We - the body of Christ - have AIDS. We - SHADE - have AIDS. Who is your “we?” Perhaps you are infected. Perhaps you are affected. Perhaps you are both. You can only know for sure if you are willing to know your status. Get tested. Get informed. Get involved. Share your knowledge. HIV is real and present and - for now - here to stay. What are you doing to help change that?

Jesus is a Chicken?

2010-04-04T01:38:00.002-04:00

For the season of Lent, the students and staff of SHADE wrote a devotional. I wanted to share the final devotion of our small book, written by my boss, Rev. Tembo Kalenga.

"Jesus is a Chicken"

Have you ever wondered why we have Easter eggs during Easter? Jesus is a chicken.

As a child, I tried to touch a chick and I didn’t know that the hen was nearby. As I picked up the chick, the hen out of nowhere started chasing me and when it caught me, it poked me deep in my skin; until this day I am afraid of chickens. I have realized how over-protective a hen is over her chicks. When a hawk tries to attack the chicks, the hen screams and all the chicks run under her arms for protection.

Jesus will always protect you. When you are in danger, He will warm you in times of danger and He will watch over you. When a chick dies, the hen mourns and tries harder to protect her other chicks; like Jesus said, your pain is my pain. God why have you forsaken me? Matthew 26:36-43

People tend to call weak people chickens because they are afraid to do certain things. Jesus was a chicken, He was afraid of dying and He asked God if there is any other way. Yet He accepted the pain. Just like the chicken He died so that we could be saved in His name. Jesus is a chicken who will always protect you, just call upon His Holy Name.

What If...?

2010-03-24T15:52:00.000-04:00

I was tested for HIV today.

I did not realize until this morning that I had in fact never been tested before. How is it possible not to "realize" this? I always "knew" my status. In the US, we are simultaneously privileged and naive, and though HIV/AIDS is still prevalent in our communities, it is in different ways. In different quantities, to start. I bet most people I know would say they have never met anyone who was HIV positive. I also believe they would be wrong, but would instead believe that most people have never met anyone who told them they were HIV positive. So they never knew; the face of a person who is HIV+ is not different from the face of a person who tests negative. I know this first hand, I have been surprised on many occassions to learn colleagues or friends back in the US were HIV+. and I won't lie: its scary to find this out. Fear, though we know better, can overcome you. Fear of getting it. Fear of losing your friend. Fear of stigmas. Fear! Fear. fear. why are we a people who are so afraid?

As I sat in the VCT clinic with my students filling out forms to be tested, I got an unexpected knot in my stomach. The fear was setting in. "What if..." - a powerful question, isn't it? Nearly all of the students (voluntarily) got tested, including some who had never been tested before. I was encouraged and anxious - the "what if" question was not just for me, but also for the 13 students I had with me on this particular day...

I went last. The sight of a needle to pierce my skin made me squirm. I hardly felt the poke through my finger for the blood... but the waiting! oh, the waiting how that 60 seconds can be so difficult - so full of anxiety and fear over something I "knew" only an hour before! "What if..." The question had to be asked... "What if..."

As the clock ticked and I waited for results, I thought of the many who had sat in this chair before me, and the many who would follow after. We share this seat. We share the prick into our finger. We share the fear and anxiety as we watch the blood slowly make its way down the test tube...

We share important questions... "What if..."

It is probably good this test is so quick. All of this emotion, all of these questions, all of this fear - and the entire test from the nurse walking in the door to when I knew my results, probably took about 4 minutes. Tops.

Yet in that 4 minutes, I discovered an abundance of questions that begin with, "what if..."

And as I prepared to leave with the students on to our next visit (home based care visit with HIV+ clients in a neighboring township), I realized that these are questions that need addressed.

If we can ask these questions in the fear, anxiety, or reality of testing positive, then we must also ask ourselves how we would want them answered. As caregivers, it is our responsibility to find the most honest, comforting, helpful answers to these questions for those we are surrounded by every day.

What if I test positive? Then I can still live a healthy life.
What if I get sick? Then my community will care for me.
What if I need ARVs? Then the local clinic or hospital will get them to me at no cost.
What if I am malnourished? Then my community will help teach me to eat better.
What if I feel down or depressed? Then my community will support, visit, and pray with and for me.
What if...
Then my community will.....

We are the community. What are we doing to help respond to these questions?

HIV has changed all of our lives. We are either infected, affected, or both. What are you choosing to do about it?

Everything is Double-Double!

2010-03-17T07:10:00.001-04:00

As if I weren’t excited or surprised before, I was REALLY surprised when I got up yesterday morning and checked my email. I had a message waiting for me on Facebook from my good friend Cody. Cody and I were teammates and in the same small group on Ride:Well 09. This is the same small group I call SABR with affection, and whom I still meet with via skype at least once a month. Why let distance or the end of tour keep us from gathering? Now that I live on the other side of the world and Tyler is also considering moving overseas for missions, we find it appropriate to say, “May the sun never set on SABR!”

SABR minutes after reaching the East Coast on the '09 Ride:Well Tour. L-R Lisa, Tyler, Jen, Cody

I emailed SABR a few days ago asking when we were meeting next, so I figured this message was Cody responding with a day/time that would work for him. Was I ever wrong! Better than a time for a skype date, Cody was emailing with dates to make sure they would work for me - he is coming to visit!!! He has talked about it since June or July of last year… but honestly, it was hard to believe it would really happen. Not because he wouldn’t want to, but because realistically it isn’t cheap, and if I got my hopes up, well, I wouldn’t want to be set up for disappointment.

No disappointment here.

The dates Cody gave me overlapped by one week with my sister’s dates - he would arrive on my birthday! So after talking to my sister to make sure she was still up for a companion for half of her time here, I quickly called Cody to confirm… unfortunately we both have jobs and are several time zones away, so I didn’t catch him. No worries, though, emails are not restricted by time zones… I hit send and went to bed, hoping for more news in the morning.

I woke this morning and was quite pleased to find an email waiting for me from Cody… its finished! The ticket is booked, and in 6 weeks’ time, my sister will be here for 2 weeks… and one week into that visit, Cody will arrive for a 2 week stay! I will have visitors for 3 solid weeks!!!

oh, sweet, sweet excitement, I dont even know how to react! And how perfect the timing! It is absolutely perfect, as these weeks fall just between my two trips to Zambia (one in April, another in May). Then Alicia and Cody will be here to entertain one another as I run Spirituality Week at the Centre - how great is that!? So they can see the centre, spend time there, I’ll probably even put them to work some, ha. They’ll also have time to meet and interact; I love it when my worlds collide! Then I’ll also have one week with each of them to hang out, catch up, etc.

The subject of Cody’s email was, “THIS IS REAL LIFE!” I can’t believe this is my life, that its really happening! I am SO excited!!! Oh, sweet, wonderful joy, this is truly incredible, and perhaps more of what I needed than I may have ever recognized!!!

A secured visitor!

2010-03-14T14:37:00.000-04:00

Last I heard from my sister, it sounded like she wasn’t going to come. One of her best friends was going to come with her to visit next month, but he has since backed out. It sounded like she was going to do her best to come in the fall (Sept-ish) instead. In reality, this was a nightmare because of how difficult it is to schedule visitors around my hectic and changing work schedule, and a complete relief. A relief not because I didn’t want her to visit, but because this is a very busy time of year. Our training center closes in June so if she comes in April/May, I’ll already be planning my final lessons while also trying to coordinate and communicate better with the satellites. Not to mention the dates of the Zambia trip have changed several times, so no one is sure when exactly we’ll be coming or going, and I would hate to miss her!

This morning when we got home from church I checked my email - we have internet at home now! Much to my surprise, I had two emails waiting for me from my sister, Alicia. Contrary to what I thought last week (that she’s not able to come to visit next month), the message waiting said she had booked a ticket! She’s coming to visit!!!

As of today, the ticket she booked brings her to Joburg on the morning of the afternoon I should arrive back from Zambia. This means she’ll only be stranded without me a couple of hours, rather than a couple of days. Not so bad, right? I’ll just find someone to fetch her, and meet her in a few hours time.

I know my words do not express it here, partly because I am still in shock that someone is actually coming, but I am REALLY excited that my sister is coming to visit! We have oh-so-many things to plan for her visit, and only about 6 weeks to do it; and I can’t wait! We’ve made all sorts of tentative plans, and I can’t wait to see what will come. The only thing I have told her she HAS to do, is go to Cape Town. So… this means I have an “excuse” (in case I needed one) to go visit! Oh, the joy and excitement - I can’t wait!!!

WORLD CUP

2010-03-11T04:54:00.000-05:00

We got word a couple of weeks ago, but I just realized I haven’t updated this exciting news on here yet!
In January, Hannah and I both put in to get tickets for the World Cup. To get tickets, you have to apply and wait for the random draw - if there are tickets available for the games requested when your name is drawn, you will be alloted the number of tickets requested.

I applied for 2 games and Hannah for 1, neither of us expecting to get everything we applied for. Hannah applied for 4 tickets so Danielle and JT could join us. I applied for 3 tickets to one game so Rachel could join Hannah and I, and 2 for the other since Hannah and I are the most excited about going to games.

Unfortunately, we did not get the tickets to the game we applied for a ticket for Rachel, but...

WE NOW HAVE TICKETS TO TWO WORLD CUP GAMES!!!!!

Both games are being played here in the Johannesburg area. The first game is a first-round game: Brazil vs. Cote d’ Ivoire! I have ALWAYS wanted to see Brazil play, in part due to my friend Naiara who is from Brazil and a soccer fanatic. I am REALLY excited about this game!!!

The second game is even more exciting and has potential to be a really great game. Hannah and I are going to a quarter-final match on July 3!

It is hard to believe how quickly it is approaching! I’m ready to have an excuse to go into the city and get into the World Cup madness, though - we have already reserved spaces on the couch in front of the television at Tembo and David’s house for some of the games. Just because we dont have a television doesn’t mean we wont be watching matches we dont have tickets to!

Upcoming Trips - oh my!

2010-03-08T03:10:00.000-05:00

What’s not to love about a 4- or 5-hour long staff meeting? I know I love them! ….

This is what we have many Monday mornings at SHADE. In theory if we actually had them weekly, they would be shorter, but we rarely have two in a row.

This week’s meeting was at least productive. We spent much of the time going through the year plan for the office, highlighting important dates and upcoming trips. Last week I met with Tembo and she gave me a list of dates I would be traveling, so I did not expect to be surprised during the meeting. Boy, was I wrong!

If no trips changed (HIGHLY unlikely), right now the tentative schedule has me traveling out of South Africa 8 times in the next 8 months! I am both really excited about this intense traveling schedule, and a bit intimidated. The trips are to various countries throughout Africa, including satellite visits, our annual satellite leadership training event, and a clergy training event. It is great to get to travel and be a part of leading these trips, and looking at the schedule it is easy to see that this year is going to fly by, and though its early, I’ve already begun to get sad about the idea of leaving.

My first trip will still be the aforementioned journey to Zambia - but guess what? The dates DID change again! Fortunately, if this trip were to be pushed back, they were pushed back in the kindest way possible. I am to arrive back in South Africa the same weekend as my sister was hoping to arrive for a visit, if she is still able to come. Not sure she will be, its not looking optimistic at this point. Especially if I’m traveling this much. I’d hate to give up any chance at a personal life for work, but that is in fact why I moved here (for work), so I emailed my sister and said if the dates can’t work, we’ll have to sort another time for her to come (which may not be possible). So… we’ll see. With potential traveling every month except June between April and November, and all dates subject to change, it sure makes it difficult to plan anything!

Tentative Plans

2010-03-03T01:10:00.000-05:00

Everything in life is tentative right now. Even what time I will go to work in the morning, really. By now I’m into a routine and used to the reality of my world that is “hurry up and wait.” This means I must be ready for transport to work to fetch me by 8am: If they show up and I am not ready, no one is pleased with me. The reality is actually that they have only been on time to fetch us right at 8am once in the two months we’ve been here; its usually closer to 10. So I rise each morning, hurry to get ready, then wait, wondering whether I should get work out and be productive at home, or wait with my things packed up so as not to make the driver wait for me to pack up once he arrives. This is my morning. Every day. (except those days when not everyone goes to work so we can all fit in one trip: these days, we leave by 6am).

Really, its a parallel to my life right now, too: everything is tentative. I am hoping to have a few visitors during my stay in South Africa, the first which will hopefully be my sister next month. She is looking into tickets while I sit and wait for my work schedule to change. Now that work is in full swing and I have enough to do to work 15 hours/day, part of my work will soon also include a great deal of international travel. The first of these trips will (potentially) be to Zambia in April. Potential, of course, because these dates have already changed twice and very well may again. My hope is just that they dont end up changing to the dates my sister is planning to be here… I have already made her change dates once to avoid this, so it would be sad to have her come all the way here, only to have me out of the country (or for me to have to skip the trip, as it could go either way).

Perhaps it is selfish, but I’m praying to have my cake and eat it too! I would certainly not want to cancel a work trip to Zambia: both because I wish to go, and also because of the disruption that may cause in the office. However, it would also be great to see at least one person from home (my sister!!!) sometime during this year and a half I am away… it would be very sad to have to cancel on either of these trips! So… Here’s to hoping for the best - and that it can all work out!

We’ve Been on Acid…

2010-03-01T12:44:00.000-05:00

Over the past 2 weeks, we have joked about a gremlin that must live on our plot out in Drumblade. It all started with Vixa, as he was the first to rip out a pair of jeans. The following day, Hannah did it. Then, on day 3, you guessed it: my favorite jeans! It was a sad day indeed.

Then came day 4, and if I was sad on day 3, I dont know how to describe my shock on day 4: my other nice pair of jeans were also torn out! I looked closely at the clothing, hoping to repair them, only to discover: the fabric was well worn, and easily tore like paper! So without a large patch to cover the entire effected area, no repairs could take place.

This required an investigation. I started talked about this at the office the next week and discovered shocking news: every staff person living on our plot, as well as a couple of Mama’s girls, have had this problem! What do we have in common? A lightbulb went off in my head late one night, but I wondered if I shared my conclusion if I wouldn’t be laughed at for having a conspiracy theory of sorts? It was worth a try… and I was surprised to be greeted with minimal laughter and lots of surprise. As the theory was passed along, more people came forward: about 20 items of clothing have been ruined.

My conclusion was this: a few weeks ago, a spare battery was placed in the boot of the car we use for transport to work (and the younger girls to school). This battery was tipped over spilling some of the batter acid in the boot. I ask: what if it leaked onto the back seat, and we are sitting on it: battery acid is eating our clothes! Soon we shall have none left…

At first, Vixa and Clifford laughed at me. Then I told Vixa I would ride in the front today, he could ride in the back with the girls. Suddenly, it wasn’t funny anymore! haha. So he got a cushion and covered the back seat, on which stains could be seen making it appear wet… could that be it?

Sure enough, that was it. No more clothes have come up holy as of yet, and the cushion from an outdoor lounge chair is clearly a lot stronger than our mostly-cotton clothing. Now I only wish we could make the car pay for the clothes that have forever been ruined! Oh, well, at least like all stories, there is a moral to this one: stay away from acid. It ruins you… and your clothes.

Unexpected Phone Calls

2010-02-27T15:16:00.000-05:00

The mail is a running joke in our house, as every time we go to fetch the mail, Lucille and I happily let Rachel or Hannah pick it up, as if there is something in there, it is probably not for us. In good fun, we say things like, “its good we have each other, since no one loves us enough to send mail!” We are aware of how ridiculous this is, but it is a fun way to tease Hannah who gets mail (a card or letter) from the US nearly every day. To which they usually remind me its family or friends they’ve done their time with or paid off; the only letter I’ve gotten (it came in Cape Town) was from Ireland! None of us could fake that kind of fan support, haha.

Phone calls are pretty much the same. It costs a lot to make a call here (we only pay for outgoing phone calls), and right now, none of us have the cash to buy airtime and make longer calls. So we talk each other’s ears off when Hannah and Rachel are reading their letters or talking on the phone to their family on the phone.

Tonight while sitting at dinner, my phone rang unexpectedly (it rarely does that unless its one of the 3 girls I was sitting at the table with). I ran to the other room (to get better reception) only to be presently surprised by the voice on the other end of the line: my old friend Ruth West! Ruth and I were friends my first year at Simpson. She was on a 1-year exchange from Ireland, and though we were not the best of friends during that time, we did get close enough to take a quick road trip to visit my family in South Dakota… and close enough to keep in touch since then! What a pleasant surprise, then, to hear her beautiful voice and strong Irish accent on the other line!

Ruth phoned to follow up on an email she sent but I had not received, and wanted to know: can she come visit? Of COURSE my response was pure joy and excitement, I haven’t seen her since 2003! She has family in Cape Town she is hoping to visit, so it only makes sense to stop over here and say hello! What a wonderful, pleasant surprise; I certainly hope I get to welcome her in my home soon!

I sat back at the table excited about such prospects, and only moments later Hannah’s phone also rang: her mom. The popular girl on the block couldn’t be outdone, we laughed! But then… my phone rang again, and much to everyone’s surprise, it was: my mom! I haven’t talked to her since leaving Cape Town, as I dont have internet access and she can’t figure out how to call me via skype. So though it may have cost her an arm and half of her leg, she called from her cell phone: a mama’s gotta talk to her girl, and it had been too long! So precious!

It was great to hear familiar voices, to be reminded of the world so far and wide and to be amazed at how great technology is that we could so easily be in communication with each other! In an hour I picked up a phone and three continents were connected! Great conversations were had, with exciting news or updates. News that was welcome in this hole of no- internet or other connections to the busy world that continues on around us!

Esther's Funeral

2010-02-24T06:36:00.000-05:00

I went to a funeral today.

I never met the young woman we are grieving today. She was the daughter of one of our DRC satellite leaders. She passed away on Sunday after weeks in intensive care; she came to South Africa in hopes of medical care that would save her life after they could no longer help her at the hospitals at home in DRC.

Esther Kalanga Mulowayi was 25 years old:
    Only one month older than me.
    She was healthy.
    She was happy - a newlywed, married in 2009, less than one year ago.

How quickly life passes us by as the words of the season rang in my ears during the service, “From Dust you came, and to Dust you shall return.”

There are countless reasons to mourn her passing. Today we are mourning.

There are also countless questions to ask. As the questions come in and the grief set in, I have spent a lot of time talking with Lucille (one month older than me). We have spent time reflecting on our own short lives that could be taken at any moment.

I am reminded to be grateful for all I have. For all that our lives have offered us, and more importantly, (we hope) others.

Today I am (perhaps selfishly) not ready to grieve the loss of Esther’s life. Instead, I am thinking about what I would want today to look like if it were a memorial service in honor of my own life, even at the young age of 25. I would want it to be a celebration.

I would want the small congregation not just to grieve, but also to celebrate the many good things of that have been shared over the past 26 years. It would be a celebration that of a life fully lived, even if it was cut “short.” I hope it would be a celebration of a life in which every day was lived fully, embracing each moment in refusal of letting mistakes of the past or fears of the future dictate the present.

Today, I celebrate. I celebrate that even if Esther and I did not meet in this world, we will meet in the next.

I celebrate that though we never met, Esther’s life has brushed mine.

Lent Devotional

2010-02-16T12:09:00.001-05:00

I am pleased to announce that many of my students and fellow staff have written a devotion to be shared during the season of Lent. I encouraged everyone to write a story from their life that gives testimony to the work that God is continuing to do in and through each of us. It opens with these words:

We believe that every person has a story to share, that there is evidence of God’s grace, love, and sacrifice in each of our lives. These stories are glimpses of that truth in our lives and give evidence of the Light God has revealed in and through our lives.

I am excited to share these stories around the world. They have already been sent to places in Europe, Asia, North America and South America. If you would like to read these short stories/devotionals and pray with us this season of Lent, I would love to share a copy of this devotional with you. Just send me a message and I’ll send you an electronic copy.

But if you get one, I challenge you to wait until Easter Sunday to read the final devotion titled, “Jesus is a Chicken!”

Hope In The Dark

2010-02-14T09:09:00.002-05:00

Today is Valentine’s Day, and what better reason for a feast, fellowship and celebration than to celebrate our community that has gathered and become one because of the One who first loved us? So we had a Valentine’s Day party last night at Mama Tembo’s home.

I arrived in the afternoon surprised and excited by the scene painted before me. There were a couple people hanging out in the office, by far the quietest place on campus. Several were up in the guest house where the cleaning (the goat, ducks, chickens and doves) and cooking of our feast was taking place. I headed that way but didn’t make it, as I was distracted by the ongoing soccer game in the lawn. It was great to watch them as even Papa joined in the friendly (albeit intense) game. I eventually walked through the dance party in the garage and made my way to the pool to find the same thing: contagious joy.

Despite the incredible fellowship and contagious joy and laughter throughout the evening, my favorite part of the day came at its close. As dinner was finished, Freddy began to DJ and began playing songs as shout-outs to different groups. “This one goes out to Zambia!” he proclaimed as he turned up the music. It was a familiar song to many, and soon the 5 students from Zambia were all up and dancing. It was only a matter of time before others joined them as well, perhaps encouraged to do so when even Mama Pastor (Tembo) got up to join them. By the end of the song, half the group was up and dancing, but it took them so long it was quickly decided we should play the same song again.

The song repeated and people continued to join the circle. Then, in the middle of the song and completely unexpectedly (there were not even storms to speak of!), all power went out. The music stopped, the singing quickly faded and you could feel the movement of the air grow stale as no dancing remained. The silence hung heavy in the air as no one moved or spoke a sound.

As if out of no where, a voice began to sing, picking up the song where it had left off. Before anyone knew what was happening, almost everyone had gotten on their feet to celebrate together in the darkness. One song turned into many as songs of praise and worship were lifted higher, louder and more melodically than they had been all night. It was a sight to see - or more appropriately - hear.

It was unlike any other worship we had shared together before. Rather than fearing darkness, it was embraced. It was almost as if we were safer together in the darkness, without light to shine over our brokenness or fears. The only light to shine in the group was the metaphorical light shinning from each person in the circle, and yet it may well have been the brightest light I have ever seen in my life. As our eyes adjusted and our dancing eventually slowed, we closed with passionate prayer and thanksgiving to our God who has shown us again today the many ways to find light in the darkest of places.

An incredible physical reminder of why we are here and who we are here to serve. How great is our God to shine so brightly in such a small, dark place!?

Community

2010-02-13T07:44:00.000-05:00

Today, the rain has gone, the wind has ceased to blow, and it is very, very hot, inside and out.

I sit in a quiet house, on a quiet farm, in the peaceful, quiet little village town of Drumblade. There are few things to disturb the perfect silence out here. Occasionally, the dogs will bark, mostly at each other as there are no unfamiliar passer-bys to keep them entertained or excited.

We woke this morning to get out and enjoy some fresh air before the heat became too much. Our usual walk to the end of the road and back was almost eventful this morning, as we saw people out and about for reasons other than heading to or from a long, labor-filled work day. We greeted our unfamiliar neighbors as they were out on morning walks and tried our best to stay out of the pathway of other neighbors hurriedly driving past, impatient with walkers in road as they made their way to destinations that remain unknown to us. As we walk, we wonder aloud: what do people here do? Where are they off to in such a hurry at 9am on a Saturday? We know this village has a lifetime of stories to tell; we are slowly becoming a part of these stories and look forward to hearing of the stories past.

As we approach the Tuck shop, we realize the distant person opening the shop has recognized us: it is Cindy, who we hoped would soon join us on these daily walks through town. We greet her, pleased to have any ‘familiar’ face to greet us along our way. We learn this is her shop as she tells us about her busy week and as she apologizes that time got away from her this week but she still hopes to join us next week. Perhaps her husband can go on bike rides when we walk each day, as a means to keep him accountable to exercise also. As she tells us this, a small group of cyclists passes us, and I am reminded of how much I miss having a bike and people to ride with; the thick, unforgiving heat of the morning reminds me of many days on tour last summer.

Cindy quickly starts writing notes, and we soon realize she is active on committees throughout the neighborhood. She is enthusiastic about putting out a notice that I’m looking for a bike to borrow for the year I am here; she insists there is no reason to buy one for such a short period of time. I drift in and out of the conversation, dwelling on information she offers, invitations she offers, the relationships she is looking forward to developing during our stay here.

Finally, today, it is beginning to feel like there is life in this small town, and this brings me hope. I am hopeful as the mysterious going-ons of the community are at hand as we are promised a radio by the end of the week, whereby we will have access to the community broadcast system. We will be in the know of community gatherings, volunteer opportunities, or needs/wants as they have their own form of “Craig’s List” that is broadcast each morning between 9 and 10 each morning. They even have a ride-share program the radio is used for so that people like us - people without transport to town - can potentially pick up rides with others heading that way near the same time. It is encouraging today to be reminded of the shared life and fellowship and networks of a small town, and I imagine that this small town is, in many ways, not so different from the small town I come from in South Dakota, a small town called McCook Lake that I will always call “home.”

Praying Together

2010-02-08T08:03:00.002-05:00

Anyone who knows me, probably knows I am not what may be easily defined as a “morning person.” This has required some an adjustment on my behalf, as most mornings there is someone at our house before 8am. As our co-workers in the cottages next door still do not have a fridge in their homes, they are here for breakfast before leaving for the office - which we are to be ready for by 8 (though it is usually 9:30 before they fetch us, as most things here run on “African Time”).

Due to transportation issues and all the people that have someplace to be in the morning, if I wish to be at the center before 9:30am, I must leave home with the car at 6am. Today, I took my first turn (of many yet to come) going to the center first thing in the morning. I was, as you can imagine, not excited about arriving so early that the doors to the center were still locked and I had to wait for students to roll out of bed before going inside. I was drowsy at best, but gave being a morning person my best shot. It wasn’t too bad, as it had been several days since I’d seen most of the students, and I was looking forward to seeing them.

This being said, I had only one conclusion at the end of the day: It is great to spend time at the Center and with the students. They really, truly are an incredible group of students. Before breakfast it was peaceful and quiet at the center, providing and incredible opportunity to catch up with students who had newly arrived and who I had not seen since we were in the Congo in November. Catching up turned into great conversations over breakfast, and I could not have felt more alive as I began the day leading worship and devotions with the group of about 30 students from all over the world.

I am really looking forward to learning, studying and praying with this incredible group of diverse people from all over Africa over the next 6 months.

Espoir Centre

2010-02-01T07:18:00.003-05:00

Espoir Center. Center for Hope. A place to call hope.

This is what we have named the center that officially opened today in DeDeur, South Africa. The center is just south of Johannesburg, southwest of my home and southeast of our new SHADE Office. It is a center that can house up to 24 students and is the location at which we will teach and develop leadership from 30 students from 13 different African countries. These students have nearly all arrived (pending a few with Visa issues), and were as excited as any us to begin today with the official opening of the Center!

This is a project that has been long awaited, and was the main purpose of SHADE’s move from Cape Town. It is a vision that has been in the works of becoming a reality for over a year, and is the pilot project of what we hope will become many more Education Training Centers throughout Africa. The next one is already being built and we are hoping it will open later this year in Lubumbashi, DRC (Democratic Republic of the Congo).

At the Center, students will learn (and help teach, as they certainly brought skills with them!) in four major departments: Life Skills, Basic Education, Poverty Alleviation, and Spirituality and Health. They are being taught in this order on a rotating basis, each department teaching for an entire week before rotating to the next one. The course will run for 5 months, concluding at the end of June/beginning of July.

I am overseeing the Spirituality and Health Department. Fortunately, my co-facilitator, John Mitchley, is a local guy who has worked in and with the church for quite some time. He is proving to be a great resource and I look forward to getting to know him better as time goes on.

As our week to run the program does not come for several weeks, it has been an incredible blessing to sit back and watch the students and other facilitators at work. It is hard to tell who is more excited about this Center finally being up and running: the visionaries, or the students who are more than happy to be the ones to run and test out the ways this Center will be run and which programs will go well. They are eating up every piece of information they are offered, attentively taking notes that they may take home and share and teach to their communities at home. It is a positive cycle we are creating, and an exciting process to watch and be a part of.

While I am grateful to be a witness, I am perhaps even more grateful to have this time to build relationships and get to know the students better. Part of my role in overseeing the Spirituality department is to see to the health and wholeness of the students, both as a group and as individuals. I am their go-to person if they have any physical health needs (from doctor visits to prescription refills to filling the first-aid kit), and have been asked to be available if crisis hits or someone is in need of counseling. It is absolutely an overwhelming and large responsibility, but also one I could not be more excited to step into. In many ways, this is the pastoral role I have been missing and seeking, but had no idea would be coming.

This place we call Hope has certainly brought much hope to me already, and I look forward to the ways it will continue to do so in the months to come.

Becoming a Local

2010-01-29T14:33:00.001-05:00

My last entry was about many of the difficulties of life on the farm, and since then I have been giving extra focus to not dwelling on what is difficult here. Writing that post drew out of me the heart of many of the greatest issues I face here, and has led me to consider what I can do to draw out of the dark place of loneliness and struggle.

At the heart of this struggle, for me, is moving beyond the loneliness and into a community. I am seeking to have relationships with each individual within our community, not just relationships from within and as a part of our group. I also have much exploring left to do in the community beyond my home and my colleagues with whom I live.

Slowly but sure, this is finally taking place. Today while Hannah and Rachel were away, Lucille and I went out for a walk to explore the long road on which we live. On our way back, we stopped at the house across the road from us to introduce ourselves. It was clear that they run some sort of Tuck shop there, and so as we introduced ourselves we also inquired as to what they had in their shop.

Lucy and I stood and spoke with Marianna and Slava for about 15 minutes, at which point Marianna finally asked what she had clearly been wondering since our conversation: [to Lucy]: “Where are you from?” When Lucy responded Cape Town, she was astounded that she was South African, she had been wondering what country she was from. She then promptly pointed out that I was obviously from the area, so she didn’t bother asking where I was from…

We just looked at each other and laughed, and I simply said, “no, I’m not from around here, either.” She was surprised and asked if I had moved here from Cape Town with Lucy. Technically I had, so we said yes and just left it at that. She was surprised, as she could have sworn I was a local. Who knows why: one of those familiar faces, perhaps? I know my accent has shifted a bit since moving here, but I am far from a South African accent and still hold strongly to my American accent, for better or worse. At least that’s what we thought.

On this particular day, I was evidently the one who looked and sounded more local than the South African I was with. Certainly amusing for us, and a moment that I will not let Lucy easily forget. Evidently I’m adjusting more quickly than any of us thought! Lets hope this is a sign of things yet to come as we get to know our neighbors and greater community better in the months to come.

Isolation

2010-01-25T03:46:00.000-05:00

When we first moved to the farm, there was a certain peaceful offering about the beauty, serenity, and constant peace and quiet of where we live. The only interruption we faced was that of the sound of the frequent rain coming down on our tin roof, a sound we have now become accustomed to, and which continues to bring me peace as I go to sleep each night.

I have been reflecting over the past few days about our time here and how much things have changed in less than 3 weeks since I first arrived. I have become increasingly aware of how much my environment here has affected me, and am convinced this morning that this is due, in part, to the incredible isolation we face here. In nearly three weeks, I have only left my home for something not work-related one time: to go shopping for some basic needs such as groceries - and even that trip was only possible because our landlord saw our need for such things and volunteered to drive us. Without his help, we would likely not have even been given that much “freedom.”

The road we live on is far from most civilization, at least for those who don’t have their own vehicle. Without paying a small fortune for a private taxi, we would have to walk 15K just to get to the nearest road with taxis (which even there only come hourly), making it impossible for us to get anywhere other than to and from the office - the hours of which are often extra long because we do not have a ride home in the evenings. We are told we can ask and borrow Mama’s extra car if we need/want to go someplace, but on the few occasions we have tried to do so, we have been told no and reminded that it is not our car. All of this is to say that the 3 of us - Rachel, Hannah and I - are feeling a bit cooped up in our farm house, where our phones only work in certain rooms and we don’t have internet to assist us with our efforts to stay connected with the outside world.

This has proven to be a great challenge, especially with the tragedy and heartache of the past two weeks (i.e. Haiti, losing Sam and Clint). We all long to be connected with people we know, and who deeply know us, beyond the perimeters of our home; I long for active relationships in my life that move beyond my home and workplace. For my own well being, I long to be independent, having a personal (social) life and time to myself to process and reflect. I want to be an individual beyond the identity of my roommates, who I love but from whom I am very different and also need time away from. This doesn’t even get into the challenges and frustrations I face in regard to the gossip and deteriorating language I cannot escape from some of the persons I am expected to (and want to) to respect the most, but whose words and actions make that increasingly difficult for me.

Since moving to South Africa, I have mostly only written about how great my time here has been - and it has. I am indeed still loving my work and (most of) my time here, and surely will write again soon about the many exciting things going on here at SHADE. However, I also want to be honest in the ways I am in need of prayer and support right now. Truthfully, I am confident that one day I will look back and think just that as I miss this life, these people and this small town in which so many people I love live. I will think about the many ways I have grown and learned from this time here in Walkerville. Someday, I will do all of these things. For now, though, I am moving one day at a time, walking humbly forward with the God I know has called me, and listening to the Derek Webb’s song A New Law playing in the background telling me, “do not be afraid…” as I reach out for an extra word of prayer for patience, strength, discernment and peace in the days to come.

So Much More

2010-01-21T08:40:00.000-05:00

During Missionary Training back in October, a friend introduced me to Brett Dennen. I have probably listened to the album "So Much More" 10 times, but today, the title track caught me off guard as I seem to have heard the words for the first time. Perhaps this is due to the recent tragedies, but it speaks words from the depths of my own soul all the same. I can't do these words any more justice than they do themselves, so I will save my thoughts and share the words with you for your own reflections...

“There is so much more"
-Brett Dennen

When I heard the news, my heart fell on the floor
I was on a plane on my way to Baltimore
In these troubled times, its hard enough as it is
My soul has known a better life than this

I wondered how so many could be in so much pain
While others don’t seem to feel a thing?
and Then I cursed my whiteness and I get so damn depressed,
In a world of suffering, why should I be so blessed?

I heard about a woman who lives in Colorado
She built a monument of Saul behind her garaged door
Where everyday she prays for all whom are born
and all whose souls are passed on

Sometimes my trouble gets so thick,
I cant see how I’m gonna get through it
but then I would rather be stuck up in a tree
Than be tied to it

I know
There is so much more

I don’t feel comfortable with the way that my clothes fit
I cant get used to my body’s limits
I got some fancy shoes to try and kick away these blues
They cost a lot of money but they aren’t worth a thing

I want to free my feet from the broken glass and concrete
I need to get out of this city
Lay upon the ground, stare a hole in your sky
Wondering where I go when I die… when I die

Update

2010-01-17T16:37:00.001-05:00

I am truly out of words tonight but wish to thank any of you who have been praying with and for those suffering as a result of the Haiti earthquake, and specifically for the Rabb family. Only a couple of hours ago, we received word that Rev. Clinton Rabb, Director of Volunteers in Mission (VIM) for the General Board of Global Ministries (GBGM), has passed away from injuries he sustained during the Haiti earthquake a few days ago.

Really, truly, I have no words and a very heavy heart. I leave you, therefore, with words of wisdom Clint has spoken to me. I thought them wise enough to quote him at the time, and tonight am grateful to have these words to remember him by.

“We are sent. Not to do something. But Sent. We will know when we get there what we are called to do.”

“Jesus claims he is sent - be careful what you claim.”

Haiti

2010-01-16T21:07:00.014-05:00

I first got word about the earthquake on Wednesday afternoon. I sat at my computer on a lunch break at work and read an email from the Dakotas Conference asking for prayer and financial support. Immediately flashed before me were images of Haiti, of the work so many of my friends have gone to do or are doing, of the great need already evident before such a tragedy, and of how many people I know that have been or even could be there. Where are they? Are they accounted for? Didn’t I hear something about missions teams being sent there in January - is that now?

While these questions came to mind I simultaneously allowed my fingers to type Haiti into google in search of more information and let my voice cry out for my roommate Hannah, who I knew would want to know right away. Over the next couple of days, information flowed in slowly and took us on a roller-coaster of emotions. We misread information, were fed wrong information, were left without any information. I am especially grateful for those who have gone out of their way to share any information with us, as has proven difficult to keep up with any news in real time from here.

My heart is heavy. It has been heavy for days as I have been thinking about, praying for, and reflecting as I read others’ reactions to this tragedy. To be honest, in the past when a tragedy such as this has struck someplace around the world, I usually join them in prayer and think about it for a day or so, then feel guilty about going back to life as I know it while people are suffering. The guilt has come this time too, but its different this time.

This time, the guilt isn’t that I have forgotten them, failed to keep them in my prayers, or not “done” something. Rather, it the guilt has been about how lavishly I live my life and how easily I take it for granted. The guilt has been linked to how I can spend hours thinking about this, but at the end of the day still not be ready to give up certain luxuries I know I have.

It has also been different because this time, I can’t forget or move on. Something about this tragedy struck me deeply, and has left me without words. This has been true before, but never has it been true without the media constantly feeding me pictures, videos, stories so that I felt connected and was reminded of the crisis. This time, I have had only minimal access to media, and with the exception of occasional emails from my Conference, I could easily have forgotten it or moved on.

Friday morning, I discovered one of the unknown connections that perhaps kept me so closely tied (prayerfully, emotionally, etc) to Haiti. In a matter of hours, I discovered that 3 GBGM/UMCOR officials were in Haiti and were last seen entering a building that collapsed in the earthquake. Misunderstandings and a passing of wrong information led us to believe they were found but fine, then not found, then one walked away with bruises and the other two were pinned for 55 hours but then found alive and would be okay. It was a rollercoaster, to be sure, especially since the two pinned men, Clint Rabb and Sam Dixon, are two men who I have worked with (Sam indirectly) over the years and who I know to do incredible work. I also know that they are two of the men within the UMC that would know the most about how to get relief to Haiti in the quickest and most efficient way possible - Clint is the Director of Volunteers in Mission (short term missions) and Sam the director of UMCOR (United Methodist Committee on Relief).

Tonight, we are not greeted with such great news. We finally have confirmed information, and know for sure that these reports offered to us before were not entirely true. It is true that the third man, Jim Gulley, an UMCOR consultant, is okay and walked away with cuts and bruises. It is also true that Clint and Sam were trapped for 55 hours under a pile of debris that was once the hotel. Tonight’s confirmed report tells us that Clint Rabb was found alive and has since been transported to a hospital in Florida, where he remains in Intensive Care.

Another report updates us on Rev. Sam Dixon. Unfortunately, Sam did not make it out of that pile alive, and today, thousands are grieving the loss of an incredible man.

Around the world, Sam Dixon was a loved servant and friend. With great hesitancy and difficulty, we (Hannah, Rachel and I) shared this update with Mama Tembo, our boss whose home we were at following an incredible evening of celebrations. We knew from conversations the past couple of days that Mama Tembo had known Sam well, and she was relieved to hear positive reports as we received them yesterday. Today, however, we had not such good news, and our celebrations quickly ended as we took time to mourn together.

Life is such a delicate thing, and we sat around the table rotating between moments of needed silence, tears, or opportunities to share stories about Sam and the incredible difference he made in the world - in our worlds. As we did so, I began to also reflect on this delicacy of life, and how incredible it really is that Sam truly lived his life as a fun, joyful, hardworking and passionate servant of God. He truly loved his work and was great at it, blessing millions along the way. Sam was in Haiti on business, and I like to imagine there was no other place he’d rather have been.

As I sit rambling and writing this post, it is nearly 4am and I am sleepless. It has indeed been a full and exhausting week, and yet I know it is far from over. I remember Sam’s family, friends, and extended community around the world, a community I cannot quickly forget as Mama Tembo tells us of what an integral role Sam Dixon played in getting funding for SHADE early on. I also think of and pray with and for Clint, who lies in ICU in Florida, and for Suzanne (his wife) and their large family, and pray for ease of pain, for healing, for comfort and patience. I hope they can feel the thousands of prayers flowing for them, can feel the incredible love and support being poured out to them though it is only minute compared to what they have first offered to their communities.

As I prepare to try again to get a bit of sleep tonight, I remember and pray for the thousands of people still missing or still suffering in Haiti. I pray for the millions of people in Haiti - and around the world - who are grieving following this terrible tragedy. May we continue to be aware of the many ways God is with us in these difficult days.

(I also encourage you to give, to donate what you can to support relief efforts in Haiti. Perhaps in honor of the incredible work Sam Dixon has done, I recommend giving through UMCOR, which you can do here.)

Things Aren’t Always What they Seem

2010-01-13T07:33:00.000-05:00

There is no question that life is going to be very, very different here on the farm. I got an email response from my mother yesterday that reflected a bit of concern over all the changes and unexpected issues we’ve run into. It suddenly made me very, very aware of how the words one uses to describe a piece of a situation can so vividly paint a picture very unlike the reality I’m actually living in.

That is to say, things are pretty great here. There are lots of things yet to be worked out, construction projects yet to be finished, items large and small still needing to be moved in, out or unpacked. The stories that are easy to tell, some of which I shared with my Mom and are the cause of her concern, are the ones that have raised blood pressure or have come with element of surprise. Stories that are not unnatural for life on a farm, as we are out “in the bush” as they say. These are stories of the field mice that have made themselves comfortable in our home. Yes, our home - not just our kitchen! The third night we were staying here, I stood in the hallway speaking to Hannah when one unexpectedly ran right across my foot and into her room. Element of surprise. Blood pressure. Trying to shoo it away until we gave up on knowing where he (now nicknamed Stewart) was, so we slept in the extra room.

Of all things, one thing we will not claim here on the farm is to ever be alone. For example, we have 3 dogs that live here and are great guard dogs. Hannah even calls one of them Simba because she thinks they all look like lions, haha. Fortunately they’ve warmed up to us quickly, though I have discovered they don’t like it when you’re up to early, such as for a morning run this morning. I got some great growls and wondered with good reason if they weren’t going to bite if I didn’t stay away. They have a good memory, though, and the sound of my calm voice is enough to keep them calm, though if I stop talking to them for even a brief moment, the growls running after me are quick to return. It is good to learn these things early, if for no other reason than to pass such advice on to the boys (Vixa and Clifford) who are very, very afraid of dogs and are to move here (cottage on same plot) sometime this week.

We also have lots of other creatures roaming about in the area, including some toads that seem to really like our house. At first they too surprised us, but now that we’ve found 5, I’m kind of getting used to them. We even have a method for getting rid of them, though there is no doubt they don’t like it. This morning I found one in the bathroom, and once he was safely outside and I closed the door, he stared at the window for a good 15 mintues, not moving. His first move? A pounce to try and get back in the house. Poor guy, I do kind of feel sorry for them!

My least favorite visitors, though, are the bugs. Lots and lots of mosquitos, so I’m grateful for my mosquito net, though there was one night that I killed a giant one inside the net. I’m not sure how he got in, but I just imagine him outsmarting the net was linked to his size. Older, more wisdom, right? I suppose if you really want something and work for it, anything is possible, ha. Also, I’m not sure if its some mosquitos or some other bug of sorts, but something out here keeps biting me and giving me allergic reactions. Its happened 3 times, resulting in large swells around the bite that do eventually go down in about 24hrs time. Not fun, pretty annoying, and yet somehow intriguing - I wonder what I’m allergic to?

These, friends, are the kinds of questions I find myself asking these days. Intriguing, right? Perhaps not. But I have appreciated this more relaxed time of settling into life out here. Next week our students arrive, and with each passing day, I’m also getting excited to get moving with this center we have talked so very much about. Life in Walkerville should not be reduced to life on the farm, afterall, for there is lots and lots of work awaiting us through SHADE and throughout Africa. I’m ready to get my hands dirty and see where God is taking us.

Continuing the Journey

2010-01-08T10:29:00.000-05:00

It has been a long day in transit to Joburg, slowly (and honestly hesitantly) moving into my unknown future as I made my way from where I woke this morning in Plumstead (Cape Town) to what will be my new home in the Johannesburg area. My mind was moving nonstop in the car the airport, anxiously sitting and waiting at the airports or on the plane… and finally now as I sit in the building that will one day be the new SHADE office in Walkerville, South Africa. I have few words but am appreciating the time to breathe deep and take in my surroundings with no demands or expectations as I wander around the property and breathe deeply the fresh air.

We are far, far from town, beyond the reaches of public transit. I have no idea yet what my home will look like, only glimpses of the picture painted through the brief words of my roommates who moved in on Monday. Four days later, I was hesitant to leave the life, family and city I love, but with each passing moment I am accepting the peace and serenity of the day, resting in the comfort that our Creator has something in store for me here that none of us could predict. I do not know what awaits me here, but something about the uneasy and unrelenting the frustration and pain that has brought me here, also brings me comfort. peace, even.

To be here, today, at peace with the path I am on has not come easily and has required a great deal of humility. It also does not come without continued reservation. I am seeking to find silver lining in all things, in the rest and opportunity to process that this afternoon has provided. Yet I will not deny the frustration with being here, only a couple of miles from my home and roommates that I look forward to seeing and greeting. 4½ hours later after arrival here, I remain here stranded, without transport (the cars have all left to run other errands), without reason for being present here, in want of a warm shower or a bed to rest on after a sleepless night and early morning. It reminds me that few things have changed, that this is somehow what I have signed up for.

This continues to humble me. To remind me that this isn’t about me. It isn’t about what might be good for me or about what seems rational or “right” or “reasonable” in my mind, but rather it boils down to me not having my own transport, and the owner of the vehicles has their own life to live, errands to run, people to see. So I will wait. I might go home before the daylight has gone, I might not. My roommates waiting for me have no idea what is going on; I have been asked not to phone them so it is a “surprise” when I arrive - but perhaps they are concerned, as they know our flight was scheduled to land over 7 hours ago. But then, that is my “rational” western mind thinking in western time, when I am in neither of those places anymore. Which is why it is okay and not surprising to discover just now that a celebration has been planned this evening - which we are all expected to attend - in honor of Judith who received passing Matric grades yesterday, and Lucy, who got engaged over the holidays. It is unclear what time that will be or if I will go home before then, but at least we can be sure that when the girls are fetched, I will go home with them after the celebration.

That is how my life is, and perhaps will be, for the year to come. Much of my time is spent in limbo, waiting, at the call of another who is often impatient if I am not ready when they call. It is an interesting predicament to find myself in, struggling with the lack of order as one may call it, when throughout my life I have always been the one, at least in the western perspective, who has been the most “flexible” or “go-with-the-flow.” I am not one who likes to over-plan, and have certainly never been the most organized. I am known for my incredible skills at procrastinating, leading to far too many late nights in grad school. Yet something about what feels like a structure-less environment has left me wanting, needing, grasping for some organization and order. For the first time in my life, I understand the question once asked to me by a good friend (Amee), “How do you do it!?” That is - how do I live a life of such unstructured freedom where I dont plan my life but live each moment as it comes, often leading to more stress later but somehow always managing to get things done. There were so many questions to follow in that conversation, and I just couldn’t understand how or why anyone would live any other way.

Today, I am in disbelief at hearing myself as the one who is asking those questions, and I can’t help but smile as I hear the laughter of friends and classmates who would not believe me if I tried to tell them this. I wonder what the balance is between how much I have truly changed, and how much the environment has simply drawn these things out of me through necessity. Perhaps my myers briggs personality has shifted, and I am more of a “J” than anyone ever believed I could be. Or perhaps what we are really learning is none of these things, but that truly, these things are all relative, purely a reflection of the environment in which we find ourselves. Maybe according to my peers in seminary, I would still be considered a “P.” I can’t help but wonder, then, how Amee would react if living here, now, under these circumstances.

Just when I start to ask these questions and dive deeper in, though, something surfaces that stops me. Again, it is that overwhelming sense of peace with it all, reminding me that it doesn’t actually matter. Reminding me of what great opportunities this life has presented to me, and most of all, making me grateful for all that is before me. That though I am not home (with my roommates a few miles away), I am sheltered from the pouring rain. I am offered food to eat, water to drink and am surrounded by people who care about me. I have so much, am so richly blessed, so deeply challenged and changing, I can hardly begin to count these blessings.

I believe this journey today to be representative of the journey the next year will bring me through. It has highs and lows, frustrations and deep joys, times to learn and opportunities to teach. It is an unpredictable journey that has potential for great blessings if I continue to seek God in each day, resting in the great peace that surpasses all understanding, and seeking to share that love and grace with those I encounter. Even when it humbles me.

Mary, Did You Know?

2009-12-24T06:06:00.002-05:00

Greetings from Cape Town this blessed Christmas Eve!

"...and she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn." (Luke 2:7)

As this new year has begun with the reflective season of Advent, we are called not to look back on those things we have struggled with or which have held us back in the year past, but to look forward to the many things our great God has in store for us in the days to come. We have spent these past 4 weeks preparing ourselves for the coming of Christ, our rock and our foundation who came to us in the miraculous, unexpected and incredibly vulnerable state of an infant. I can't help but to wonder what it must have been like that first Christmas as Mary gave birth to the Christ-child. I am reminded of the words to one of my favorite Christmas songs,

    Mary did you know that your baby boy
       would one day walk on water?
    Mary did you know that your baby boy
       would save our sons and daughters?
    Did you know that your baby boy
       has come to make you new?
         This child that you delivered,
            would soon deliver you?

These words remind me of the vulnerability of our God and of the vulnerability we are invited to have through relationship with this newborn baby, our Savior. Just as we wish to have a relationship with, to love on and care for little babies in our communities, I imagine we would also have wanted to care for the tiny baby Jesus. In that way, the birth of Christ as a baby starts to make sense for me in a way it never has before. It is an invitation into relationship with God in the least threatening way possible. God has presented God's self to us in a way that seems impossible and yet irresistible. Quite unlike meeting angels face to face, there is nothing threatening about this child that would cause one to greet Him for the first time with the words, "be not afraid." Instead, the first words spoken by outsiders are words of praise, as the shepherds "made known what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed" (Luke 2:17-18).

In reading the Gospel of Luke's account of the birth of Christ, I am drawn in by the power of these words, one line at a time. I accept the invitation to journey through that night with the one person closest to Jesus, wondering what this night must have been like for Mary. The words catch me every time... when the Shepherds spoke these amazing prophetic words about her newborn son, we are told she "treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart" (Luke 2:19). As she pondered in what I imagine to be joy and amazement, I wonder,

    Mary did you know that your baby boy
       would give sight to a blind man?
    Mary did you know that your baby boy
       would calm the storm with his hand?
    Did you know that your baby boy
       has walked where angels trot?
    When you kiss your baby,
       you kiss the face of God?

So much of why we celebrate the birth of the tiny baby Jesus is because we know these pieces of the story: Jesus grew up and invited us into a more full reality of who He was created to be. He has selflessly offered himself and returned infinitely more love than was poured over him as a child.

This annual night of remembering Christ as an infant is a reminder of the constant invitation for us to continue that relationship. Jesus maintained the purity and innocence of the child we picture on this night, and so in the same way as we fearlessly oddle over and seek relationship with the infant Immanuel, we are invited to enter into a relationship with the same Christ who invites the deaf to hear and the lame to leap.

It is true that for many, Christmas is about sharing gifts and spending time with family. I think we got this right: I believe God truly would want us to commemorate the birth of God's son by giving to and sharing with one another in love. Yet in sharing gifts we must remember that in the Christ child, we were given the greatest gift that could ever be given. We have been offered and invited to share in the gift of relationship and meaning in our lives. Through this relationship, we are loved and offered new life. New life that is remembered on this night, especially through the celebrated life of a new, unexpecting and holy child we long to love and care for, yet who loves and cares for us far more than we will ever know.

    Mary Did you know that your baby boy
       is Lord of all creation?
    Mary did you know that your baby boy
       will one day rule the nations?
    Did you know that your baby boy
       is heavens perfect lamb?
          and this little child you're holding is the great I AM?

May God be with you this Blessed Christmas Season

Add To The Beauty

2009-12-22T08:40:00.003-05:00

Usually when I fail to update often, it is because I dont have words to say or have been so busy I haven’t had time to post them. As of late, it seems to have been the opposite. I’ve had so many things weighing on me and demanding my attention that as they quickly run through my mind I have struggled to capture them for long enough to write them down.

Today, my friend Don posted (via Twitter) this link to a blogger’s sincere review of his new book. Unfortunately, it has not yet been released here in South Africa, so I am yet to read it myself. However, reading reflections like this one does two things for me: 1- make me more anxious to get my own copy, and 2 - make me miss the Ride:Well Tour and the way we somehow came to understand that life is to be lived with a sense of urgency in living a more full life.

This reminded me of the words of what has become one of my anthems. The song is Add To the Beauty by Sara Groves, and as we grow closer to Christmas and move into the new year, this is, I realize, what my heart and soul are crying out for: to Add to the Beauty.

Add To the Beauty

We come with beautiful secrets

We come with purposes written on our hearts, written on our souls

We come to every new morning

With possibilities only we can hold, that only we can hold

Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces

Calling out the best of who we are

And I want to add to the beauty

To tell a better story

I want to shine with the light

That's burning up inside

It comes in small inspirations

It brings redemption to life and work

To our lives and our work

It comes in loving community

It comes in helping a soul find it's worth

Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces

Calling out the best of who we are

And I want to add to the beauty

To tell a better story

I want to shine with the light

That's burning up inside

This is grace, an invitation to be beautiful

This is grace, an invitation

Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces

Calling out our best

And I want to add to the beauty

To tell a better story

I want to shine with the light

That's burning up inside

Occassions to Celebrate

2009-12-08T15:18:00.004-05:00

The past few weekend have been eventful and full of time to spend with the Ilunga family, as we are invited/expected to be at family events. It has been a great way to get to know them better - the girls but perhaps especially Mama and Papa while outside of work-related events.

The first of these family weekend events was the weekend we returned from the Congo. In true Ilunga style, we received a text message at 3 telling us to be ready to be picked up at 5. That's it. We didn't know why, or where we were going. We did call to find out if we should eat supper first, to which we received a surprised "of course not! We're going out to eat!" haha, ok... good to know, right?

The purpose for this particular outing was to celebrate Debbie's 17th birthday! One more year as a minor... and she made sure we knew it! We - the 5 Ilunga girls, Mama & Papa, Clifford, Vixa, Rachel, Hannah & I - gathered for some much-needed laughs over our celebratory dinner, complete with singing a few rounds of Happy Birthday to implement proper amounts of embarrassment for the birthday girl!

On our way out, we did manage to stop for a family photo. Too bad the pretty blue wall behind us doesn't look so pretty with the flash ruining the sweet lighting. But you get the idea. :)

Our next outing was the following Friday, for which we gathered for yet another Ilunga family birthday - this time, Judy was turning 19! Again meeting up at the Waterfront for dinner, we added more people to our group and did our best to sing, take photos, etc. A quality bonding activity with the family, we are definitely starting to see different sides of them - esp Mama Tembo - and I love it! It also helped piece together where "innocent" little Nissia gets all her spunk from! haha

For the third weekend in a row, we spent a day this past weekend at another family function, this time at a wedding Mama and Papa were hosting (as the godparents of the groom). The ceremony was beautiful and provided an eventful and full day of events, beginning early (not until 10am for us) with preparations and continuing on an "African time" schedule. Following the ceremony, we (the entire wedding party, which we somehow became a part of and Hannah became the official photographer for) made our way around town for photos. We stopped at the city garden, where this group photo was taken, then moved to Milnerton beach, where a few of us managed to go play in the water while the photos were being shot. Eventually we made it back to the Ilunga home, where the entire party gathered to eat lunch and do that thing we are oh-so-very good at these days: wait. Nearly everyone changed to eat so they wouldn't spill on the fancy attire, only to begin with hair, make-up and new outfits for the reception. As usual, this took a bit longer than anticipated, and we arrived at the reception just over two hours late. The guests are clearly used to this routine, though, as when we entered about 15 minutes before the couple, everyone seemed content as could be just hanging out in the reception hall.

The arrival of the couple meant a meal was soon to follow, followed by lots of dancing and photo opportunities (Hannah did a great job!). The party got one so late and everyone had such a good time cutting the cake was nearly forgotten! Seriously. It was so late when it was finally cut they decided not to bother serving it, and shortly thereafter the couple left, encouraging the guests to do so soon thereafter. A great time was had by all, but the time we left, we were definitely exhausted and thankful to be going home. We did manage to get one quick picture of the 3 of us in our "reception dresses" on our way out the door, though. A definite shout-out must be had to the Ilunga girls, once again, for letting us go through their closets (per request of Mama Tembo). All 3 of us started in clothing we'd taken the previous week. Then in the afternoon we unexpectedly changed into eveningwear... again, courtesy (not that it was always a choice) of the Ilunga closets. They're pretty stylish girls, huh?

This has been a lot of excitement in a little bit of time, especially since we spent today at a town meeting in Atlantis! (hopefully more on that later) With the youth Stay Awake Friday (read: lock-in only everyone seriously stays awake all night) and another wedding on Saturday (that we are not anticipating making after being up all night, if we can help it), to say we are tired would be an understatement. Its that good kind of tired, though. The kind that keeps me alive and remembering what we are living for. That every day is a new day, that every moment presents a new opportunity for adventure, that there are countless ways to enjoy life through love, laughter, and joy.

These are the kinds of moments I am living for. I have embarked on this crazy adventure. I have moved to South Africa because I believe God has called me to live and work and pray and serve.... and learn. Each day (like these) that I have to live more fully into the community I have been welcomed into here, I know I am being shaped. Sometimes, it feels like pinning and prodding. Most of the time, it feels like love shared between friends and family. That's how it feels today, and I realize I must have the best "job" in the world: I would rather be no other place in the world than right here, right now. That, friends, is an incredible feeling, and I praise God for it! and I praise God for you - my supporters and prayer warriors and friends and family who have helped support me and bring me to this place. Really, truly, from the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you for being a part of this journey with me.

World Cup Final Draw was AYOBA!

2009-12-05T17:57:00.001-05:00

It has finally begun. The 2010 FIFA World Cup events, hosted this year for the first time by an African country, have begun in Cape Town. The world is preparing for it, and it is a great joy to watch first-hand the ways in which the World Cup has become such a great uniter among the excited fans throughout South Africa in particular.

As they well should be, South Africans are proud. The are excited. Sure, at some level the whole world (minus most of the USA, *sigh*) is excited for this great uniting sports competition, but they are REALLY excited. I mean... they are so excited they don't even have words to describe it, so new ones are created! Seriously. The World Cup and all things good around it can only be described by one undefinable word created for just this purpose: "AYOBA!"

So when I realized that the kick-off event for the World Cup - the Final Draw - would be taking place in Cape Town, two thoughts occured to me. One: it is going to be packed and chaotic downtown, and no one in their right mind would want to brave that crowd when they could watch from home and probably have a better idea at what's going on. Two: I wonder if my roommates would want to go with me, and if we could talk Clifford or Vixa into driving us.

Fortunately, we didn't have to ask: Clifford decided we should go and asked if he could take us. check!

So he did... and ten miutes after we arrived and had begun making our way through the crowd, we departed, planning to use technology as the only means to actually meet up again in these masses. We were there a bit early to make sure we'd be able to get in, and it was already PACKED! Its kind of hard to tell in this picture, taken shortly after we arrived, but we were pretty excited to actually be in Long Street for the World Cup Final Draw!

Fortunately, our thinking was right: we later found out they blocked the streets off and wouldn't let any more people in when it got over capacity at around 120,000 people. The last (unofficial) number I heard was that there were close to 150,000... but numbers don't really matter when it gets that high anyway. Basically, for as far as we could see in any direction, we could only see thousands of people. It was kind of intense and really awesome.

We obviously started all the way in the back, where the huge mass of people was pretty intimidating. By the time the draw started at 7 we had discovered how to avoide the ridiculous masses and found a hole in the crowd next to some great folks who were there for the festivities, but who (like us) really wanted to actually watch the draw. It was a perfect match as we battled to hear and would reveal results to each other as they were read. Pretty good draws, too: South Africa will play in opening game against Mexico! Uruguay and France are the other two teams making up Group A, while the USA will open group C matches against England with Algeria and Slovenia making up the other half of our group. Basically, that means we (USA) got a GREAT draw, and have an incredible chance of making it to the top 16! We got some funny looks for being so excited about this, but hey, what can I say? There are at least a few soccer fans in the US...

Following the draw, we slowly we made our way forward through the crowd; by the time our evening came to a close, we were about 10 rows from the front. Definitely an adventure, it was the perfect place to enjoy live music, meet lots of new and interesting people, and of course do the one thing we'd been wanting to go out for since we arrived: dance. So, here we were, mid-dance party, waiting for the final musicians of the evening to come on stage.

To our great (and pleasant) surprise in this giant crowd, we actually ran into a number of people we know, namely members of the Kalenga familiy or people we knew through SHADE/Woodstock Church that we didn't even realize were there. It was a great addition to the night, somehow making this city we live in feel a bit more like home.

We eventually closed the night with as much laughter and celebration as we started with, finally meeting up with Clifford, Sandra and Vixa. We were all exhausted but running on adrenaline, but clearly I seemed to have a bit more, as Vixa decided I should carry him up a hill. I talk big and had already smoothly made reference to how I of course could do it, the strength of a woman to carry a man or something of that sort. Fortunately, on this one I hadn't bitten off too much more than I could chew, and after stopping for pictures to remember the event by, it gave us all the more reasons to laugh together.

All in all, Dec 4, 2009 proved to be a memorable night, and as one of the posters on Long Street said, I am glad to be able to say, "I was there" the night it all began in Cape Town. It only makes me all the more excited about all that is to come with the World Cup only 6 months away!