Grateful

The best thing about family is that it doesn't matter how often you see each other, it can be comfortable and feel like you were never apart. That was certainly how this weekend was as I spent the past 2 days with Jess and Greg and Greg's family.

They leave to head back to South Africa in the morning, so I've left them to their packing. After a short visit with my sister (family of origin who lives in NYC), I am now on the bus back to DC, where I will spend Easter with my 'home' church tomorrow.

Our weekend was full of great tourist activities like standing in line for hours to go to the Cake Boss's bakery (pictured above) and strolling through Times Square at night just to see it. Activities I hadn't done before but had a great time doing if not purely for the company I kept.

Jess, Greg and I in Central Park

So today I celebrate that we live in a small world in which some of my South African family can visit my country (and look forward to the visits of others, queue Grassows and Kleins). I am tired from a couple of busy days, but more so renewed and refreshed by the life, love and energy that comes with spending quality time with family - no matter how long or short it is.

For that I am grateful.

Reminiscing

(...I just found this in my drafts folder, dated  12/12/11 and thought I may as well post it, whether I intended to at the time or not. So old or not: enjoy!)

I have a friend who keeps posting one-word status updates and it reminds me of a colleague I had in South Africa who went through a similar phase.

I can't believe Christmas is nearly here, and in just over a week I'll be in South Dakota to celebrate with my biological family. This makes it difficult for me as I also spend a great deal of time thinking about my family in South Africa, missing them dearly, and wishing I could also be with them.

The weather is getting colder and soon the snow will be flying, and its strange to realize it would feel just as normal to be preparing for a braai or finding ways to avoid the tourists as they flock to the beach in the midst of hot, sun-filled days in the Cape.

I feel out of touch with Advent because I don't have people to light my Advent wreath with at home (Hannah and Rachel).

Last year at Christmas I was preparing for a marathon of worship services I would be leading - and my heart longs to be back in that role.

In 3 days - on December 15 - I will meet the one-year anniversary of the big operation I had last year to have melanoma removed from my right temple.

Oh, how things have changed in that year.

Over the past 2 weeks I have had opportunities to spend time with friends who know me well and with whom I have no need for "walls" or "filters" - and it has been good. And it has invited me to reflect on the many incredible people I have in my life, near and far.

and it has made me think: it has been a long, long time since I felt genuinely "homesick" for a people or place I call my own, and yet that is where I find myself. Oh, how this holiday season makes me long for the people, the places, and the family that are so far away. Perhaps moreso because it is such a season of change, and I wish I could be there helping out...

and as so much is changing, I find myself wishing more than ever I could be with my family on another continent.

Here's to Advent as a season of change and a season of anticipation. As I continue to process the many changes within myself over the past couple of years, I am also excitedly and impatiently awaiting the experience of what this next season shall bring for me.

My prayer for the next couple of weeks is that I not get too far ahead of myself in anticipation but that instead, I find moments to rest into all that is offered to me in the present.

Happy Anniversary

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.

A non-updating Update

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.

Transitioning

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.

Congratulations

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

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!

Thanksgiving

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.

There's No Place Like Home...

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.

Trading My Sorrows

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

What it means to be loved.

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

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

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.

Change in Perspective

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.

A secured visitor!

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!!!

Isolation

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.

Mary, Did You Know?

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

Occassions to Celebrate

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.

Thankful Indeed

There is much to be thankful for year ‘round, and I am thankful that each year in the last week of November, we US citizens celebrate and remind each other to be thankful through a national holiday: Thanksgiving.

I have celebrated Thanksgiving in various places and with different groups of people who are important to me, but this was the first year I was not in the United States. That means that while I have always contributed to the Thanksgiving feast, it has always been done pot-luck style. That was not the case this year, as we knew that as the only Americans we know here, if we didn’t prepare the feast ourselves, there would be no traditional foods to be had. Therefore Hannah, Rachel and I did all the shopping over the couple of days leading up to Thanksgiving and stayed home from work Thanksgiving Day to prepare the feast. Our only regret was that we didn’t have a bigger kitchen/house to host people in, as our list of who we wanted to invite was significantly larger than the list of people we actually did get to invite.

As we prepared the large feast that included TWO turkeys (who were we kidding? We knew these folks could EAT!), excitement built. The baking of desserts was done the night before and were taunting us from the cupboard. As the preparations began in early hours of the morning, we had all day to talk about our own traditions and how things were the same or different from back home. We laughed and shared stories of memories from years past. We took time to share things we are thankful for and remembered the many ways we are fortunate.

We received our guests with joy and excitement into our aroma-filled house. While initially unsure how they would feel about these foods that were all almost all new to them, we were easily convinced they weren’t exaggerating their approval as they moved in for third and forth servings. By then, we had also moved into entertainment by some of the girls (through singing and dancing)- all of this before they slipped into food comas, sprawling out in the living room before we even got to dessert (don’t worry, we woke them for it!). Needless to say, they ate their fill and then some, and we hardly had any left!

Only days after we finally got some furniture in our house, it was great to fill our house with guests that brought such energy, joy, life and love. We spoke all week of things we are thankful for, and as the evening came to a close, I realized the depth of gratitude I really do have especially for the friends and family (however defined) I have in my life. I am also grateful this year to have been able to share this great tradition (and traditional food!) with others for the first time. It was indeed a great Thanksgiving, and I went to bed counting my blessings for an incredible life and for a God that is always giving us new life in ways great and small.

Here we are mid-meal... I was teaching them how to stretch their stomachs to make room for another course. :)

Our entire group, L-R Top Row: Judy, Joyce, Me, Lucy, Nissia, Debbie, Vixa
Front Row: Lynn, Hannah, Clifford, Rachel

Finally an Aunt!

It is good to be home! Travels were uneventful (thankfully!) and we have all been home since Late Wednesday evening. We spent Thursday resting and re-settling into our home in Cape Town, and are working our energy back up as we look forward to getting back into the office. Believe it or not, I’ve really missed the office, our scheduled work and our incredible staff we get to spend the days with. It is good to be home, and I look forward to returning to Salt River to work on Monday!

Of utmost importance other than the details of arriving home safely is big family news I am excited to share! After more than two days of labor, my little sister Aleah has given birth to a beautiful baby boy!!! My first nephew Quintin Eugene was born on Wednesday, November 18 and was 8lbs, 4oz and 21in long! Mom and baby are still recovering but doing well, and expect to go home on Saturday.

Here he is - isn’t he beautiful!?!?

My only regret is that I am so far away, but I have been assured by Aleah and my mother both that they will cuddle and kiss him plenty for me, too! Please join with me in celebrating the birth of her first child (my mother’s first grandchild after she’s wanted grandchildren for so long!), and in praying for them as she learns all the intricacies of motherhood. (and fatherhood for Daddy Corn!)

Welcome, baby Quintin, and congrats Mommy Aleah and Daddy Corn! Love you guys!