Election Day

After months a build-up and anticipation, the presidential election of the United States will have collected all ballots by this time tomorrow. I just hope there are no issues with those votes so that we can also have a declared president-elect shortly thereafter.

This election is so divisive, I imagine it will be met with mixed emotions either way: for celebrations or deep sadness, topped with the opposite as we (hopefully) remember those who are equally passionate and not celebrating. The 2008 election was perhaps equally memorable for me because of the intense high I felt watching our president give his acceptance speech, and then feeling the deep lows and incredible loss of the divisiveness and pain it caused to people I love. I pray love, grace and mercy will be upon all of us as we seek ways to move forward, no matter the outcome.

That said, I admit am anything but indifferent in these elections (the presidential election is far from the only one that matters!), but I have been doing my best to be bi-partisan. The most important thing, is that people are informed and VOTE. People fought for decades to make sure that we - women, people of color, people who have limited resources, etc - could vote. Let us not take that lightly. Let us vote as if our lives DEPEND on it. Because for many, it DOES.

For what it's worth, I also wish to say: I'm tired of hearing, "but my vote doesn't matter." In the words of Edward Everett Hale, "I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something. And because I can not do everything, I will not refuse to do the something that I can do."

Do that thing you can do. VOTE.

My anxiety-ridden heart that prays our God will have mercy on us, a nation that is blessed but not for any of our own doing. A nation I love and am a proud citizen of, but not anywhere close to perfect or "the best place on earth" as we are broken and sinful and arrogant. More often than not, we prove to be a nation who doesn't care for its poor, who further marginalizes the oppressed, and who acts with entitlement rather than grace or love.

And so, before my list goes on, I am going to stop my election-related ramblings, closing instead with the messy words of my heart that I keep praying over and over. I invite you to pray them with me earnestly, believing that as we pray them, they can become truth in real time.

God of love help us to live into the grace you have first shown us. In the midst of our anxiety and war-torn, conflicting words, help us to find patience and peace. We need you, Oh God, as we seek grace and peace with the results and forthcoming changes, but especially grace, peace and patience with each other in the midst of our disagreements. Help us to remember that you alone are Holy and Good, but that you walk with all of us in our (long) journey toward perfection. Lord, in your mercy... hear our prayers...

Detoxing

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.

Silence.

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.

Update: Part 2

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. :)

Update

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.

All Saints Day

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.

Emily

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.

Put Your Right Knee In...

...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.

A Promise of Hope

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.

United In Prayer

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?

Praying Together

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.

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.

Recapping Ride:Well Week 1 - Part 2

Here is the second half of my promised - ridiculously long - update.

Wednesday we started sore, but I was still on a high from the previous day’s crazy adventure – though I have to admit it was a little discouraging when 15 miles in we hit a hill with a 10%grade and we’d been told it was going to be “all flat all day.” We knocked it out, though, and the rest of the day was pretty flat. Unfortunately, I paid for the previous day’s climbs, and my back wouldn’t forgive me for it. I made it through, but it was even harder than the previous day of mountains – bodies certainly can be unforgiving. I took time and care, a couple pain pills, and a good night’s rest to try and sort it out. When I woke up Thursday I still couldn’t even stand up completely straight, but I decided to give it a shot and see if I could stretch it out on the bike – there’s no shame in being in the van, I told myself, but I certainly wasn’t going to end up there without at least beginning with a strong effort in the morning.

Feeling as I did, my goal on Thursday was a mere 20 miles (or the first van stop, wherever that led me). Of course I am too stubborn for that, so I just took it easy and rode at a more mild pace for the day, and slowly but sure, we got in! It felt great to have started the day with such lack of confidence, but incredible to have fought the second day of intense heat and safely rolled into the church in Yuma, AZ. It was certainly a result of good teamwork that day – and Lyzz was our faithful leader that got us through. Couldn’t have done it without her!

Friday. Long, hot, and the team was really spread out. That made it really hard on the Mother Falcon, who was trying her best to get us shade and more water in adequate time. Breaks with the van were at 28 and 52 miles, and by the time we got half way (67miles) to the third break (78miles), I was hot, out of water, and suffering from some heat exhaustion that literally took my breath away. I had dealt with physical pain for several days previous on the trip, but this whole thing about not breathing was new to me – and scared me! So I made the decision I dreaded, and REALLY didn’t want to – we thought we had 30miles to go – so I got in the van. 5 minutes in the shade, and I felt 200% better, but since I had already confessed to having issues breathing, my teammates kind of made me make the safe decision, and I still took the ride. This was a huge disappointment, and even more so when we drove 11miles to the next water break and discovered the directions were wrong – we were then only 2 (not 17) miles from camp. I know I could have made that, but also know there were right, and better safe than sorry – heat exhaustion wasn’t something I should be taking chances with.

The coming sandstorm at the campground in Dateland, AZ made for a first for many of us R:Wers. We got all of our bikes, etc safely inside and sat outside to feel the cool wind and watch the storm roll in. It ended up missing us, but not before we were generously offered a place to stay inside by the owner of the campground. She had a lovely home, and the 5 of us girls who stayed with here were REALLY grateful for the great night’s rest we got before being up at 3am so we could leave at the first peak of dawn.

Yep, we really got up at 3am. Crazy, right? The first group of cyclists were out by 4:30am, when the sun had barely begun to rise and we could only see about 100 yards in front of us. It was cool, though (78degrees), so it was totally worth it. A smaller group of 5 of us girls – those of us who had ridden in the van at all during the week – were asked not to ride this morning, but to instead stay in the van to get shuttled the first 40miles b/c they didn’t want the group to spread out on such a long day. We weren’t excited about it, but it worked out. We finally hit the road about 6:15 and enjoyed one of the best days to ride so far. It was hot, but not nearly as hot as it had been days previous. There was an incredible gift of cloud cover on occasion, and every 20 miles or so there were actually even gas stations to stop in! Our pace was great, and by the end of the day (we got in 83 miles, those who got to start early had ridden 123), the small but mighty group of us girls were pacing around 19mph. It was a great day – so great that we were sad it ended, as we thought we were going to get in our first century ride, but (again) our directions were off, and we had 20less miles! A great surprise, but a disappointing one when we realized we would miss the extra miles we thought we would get.

Fortunately, our greeting by Desert Springs Church could not have been better – they greeted us with ice cold wet towels, cold drinks, and a crew of youth to wash and wax our filthy bikes! Everyone stayed in host homes, and the families are all incredible. By 6 my family came, and I got to spend the next 20 or so hours with them. It was a great opportunity to visit and catch up, and as always great to see the babies and how big they’re getting! Until last year, I had never made it to visit them, so it was a great blessing to get to visit for the third time in 12 months! It was a great bonus to have Lyzz join me – I love it when my worlds collide, and love that a friend on this journey has gotten a glimpse into my life outside of the Ride:Well Tour.

Sunday evening was our benefit concert at Desert Springs Church in Chandler. Sara Groves played and did an amazing job, the crowd filled the church about half way, and of course as always I cried when she sang “I saw what I saw.” Perhaps when they are more processed, I will offer further reflections on the many things going through my mind during the show. It was a big night for me with lots of thoughts running through my mind – I would have done anything to have a journal with me! I love stuff like that – when God moves us in unexpected ways in unexpected places, with unexpected people.

In hindsight, these moments are the ones that make the puzzle of life fit together so clearly, while I know that if I had planned the journey or cut the pieces myself, it would look entirely different. I am thankful for the way it is, for the way it fits, for the ways I am growing, and for this new family that is challenging and loving me in so many different ways.

All of this… and its only been one week. I can’t wait to see how the next seven unfold.

Continuing the Journey of Holy Week

Holy Thursday. A journey to the garden, a night we are called to be watchful and prayerful in preparation of what is yet to come. Tonight's service was a journey and included a journey outside to "pray in the garden" while we sang together: "Guide my feet, while I run race, for I don't want to run this race in vain."

I pray that tonight, and for the continued path on which I will travel beyond this week. I pray that as I remember vividly from my journey to Jerusalem not long ago the path on which Jesus walked and the garden in which he prayed on that night. They were so different then than now, but they are imprinted images all the same, and they shift my reality of how I am able to see and understand this story.

Holy Week is my favorite time (albeit the most difficult) of the entire church year: a week in which we are called more than any other to be attentive, worshipful, prayerful, and reflective both in our own 'gardens,' and together, in community, as we gather for several days to pray and meditate.

Our final song in worship tonight was a Taize song that keeps running through my head, a prayer I carry with me and invite you to boldly pray as well in the midst of this night of preparation...

Stay With Me.
Remain Here with Me.
Watch, and Pray.
Watch and Pray.

Ready for Lent

Today is Ash Wednesday. The first day of the season of Lent on the Christian calendar. A day that we are reminded "From dust you came, and to dust you shall return."

As Christians, this is a time of reflection and introspection. It is a 40-day journey that is representative of the 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness. He fasted and was tempted, but most importantly, he prayed. He was preparing himself for a life of ministry beyond what we ever imagined. For us, we spend these symbolic 40 days preparing ourselves - of seeking restoration - as we anticipate Christ's Resurrection, which marks the end of this season.

As we prepare ourselves, we have the tradition of making some sacrifices during Lent. Whether we give something up (a food, bad habit, or some material item we really don't need) or add something (spiritual practice such as devotions or prayers), please remember the reason we do so. I encourage you not to make a change because you feel you have to, only to return to your "old ways" on Sundays ("mini-Easters") or the day the season ends (Easter). I hope instead, we can make changes to our lives that will hold lasting effects, that will truly help us to grow in and strengthen our faith. That whatever choices we make in this season will have everlasting effects and carry over beyond Lent, and that most importantly, it will help us to refocus our energies and take a risk by diving into an even deeper relationship with Christ who calls us to this place - who restores us.

Far more than any year ever before, this year, I am ready for Lent. So much has happened already this year, and it is almost as if there has been no time for it all to catch up and sink in. From ongoing economic problems to discovering the root of my back problems are because I have Degenerative Disc Disease to friends in need hundreds of miles away, to the tragic and heartbreaking premature birth and death of friends' infant son only last week, I have spent this year in ceaseless prayer for crisis after crisis.

This year I have set goals for this season, as always one "sacrifice" and one spiritual practice to work on. More important than these, though, I pray whatever our goals are, we are able to collectively keep up an attitude of ceaseless prayer, even when we aren't in crisis to remind us (and I hope that day will be soon). I pray that whatever changes we make to our lives this season, they are changes that allow for us the opportunity to find rest and inner peace, and to find the restoration we so often speak of this season being affiliated with.

Come, O God, and restore our souls as we remember on this day that "From Dust we came, and to dust we shall return."

To New Beginnings

SO much... the year is off to a roaring start, for better and worse.

Costa Rica. An incredible trip, I was surprised and blessed by the make up of the group of the mission team Hyemin and I were invited to travel to and work in Costa Rica with. The average age of the group nearing 70, the stamina and incredibly hard work with such impressive results of this group blew me away. With any trip, this one brought with it highs and lows, and I am certainly a better person for this trip. I was unfortunately able to do very little (manual) labor/work while there, but the work I did in conversation (I picked up Spanish again much quicker than I anticipated, thankfully!) and in spending time with folks in the community were great. My first international mission trip (first trip with a mission team, that is), I learned a great deal about missions, etc. My favorite part? Witnessing the love, fellowship, friendships, and family that our group (specifically our trip leaders) shared with this community. They have been working together for 14 years, and their relationships are incredible gifts as a result of such efforts.

Promptly upon returning to forms of communication such as email and phone, I was alerted to a difficult and scary situation of my close friends, Ross and Amanda Baker. You may recall my great celebration in their first child just one month ago... and James Bennett is still doing great! Unfortunately, it is Mom who has been having some major troubles. It is public knowledge by now... and I could perhaps spend hours filling in details, but sparring them I say only that this family has been on a terrible rollercoaster. When James was only two weeks old, Amanda discovered a tumor that was initially believed to be cancer, and was later discovered to be a rare genetic disease known as Juvenile Polyposis... making this long story short, she has had major surgery and had her colon removed... all things considered she is doing very well! She was even released from the hospital on Friday, and will now be getting care from the comfort of "home" - they are residing back in Kansas with family.

I am so thankful she is doing well, and could not begin to articulate here how very difficult even this past week has been. I miss my dear friends so much, and while I am VERY thankful they are in Kansas surrounded by a great many friends and family who can support them, I miss them very much and wish there were more we could do for them from here. It sure is encouraging, though, to know that "literally thousands of people are praying" for them, as Ross pointed out. Incredible! (you're welcome to join in the prayers... they need them!). In the middle of all of this, James has turned one month old and the pictures prove he is healthy and rapidly growing!!

The spring semester has begun, and I am already deep into spring texts. There are many other things to update on in this crazy life I lead, but these must wait for another night. Tonight, I just needed to express my great thanksgiving for incredible people in my life. This weekend alone I was able to catch up with NINE friends I hold dear (including a surprise visit form Ross who was here to pick up somethings they left behind). I hope this is symbolic of the new semester to come, full of friends, fellowship, prayer and community. Without these things, I cannot imagine where I (we) would be.

An Answer to My Problem

It has been a crazy week.

Last Thursday, I woke up with my back hurting mildly. I shrugged it off, figuring I slept wrong. Long story short, it got really, really bad, really, really fast. I went to a massage therapist over the weekend, and when that didn't help, to a doctor on Monday. After agonizing and even crippling pain the past few days, I went back today - and when she saw me at my worst, she sent me to the ER...

It took a bit of fighting at the ER for them to not shrug me off and send me home with a referral to see someone else later. Instead, they gave me an x-ray, and when they were confused at it coming back fine, they gave me a referral for an MRI. Stubborn with the support of Emily (my driver and SUCH a trooper for waiting with me!), I insisted upon getting it there and then, as I'd already seen a doctor and they sent me here. That - and I'm supposed to leave on a mission trip in 5 days!

So I got it - and finally we got answers! I have a bulging disc in my spinal column. The bad news is that its still uber-painful and there isn't much we can do to fix it before we go. The good news is that they gave me strong pain meds (Vicodin), a muscle relaxer, and they affirm me going on the trip to Costa Rica!
The bad news is that I need physical therapy and have to see a spinal specialist in Glenview for it. The good news is that it isn't further along, and if we get it treated now, I shouldn't need surgery. This means more good news of a better chance of NOT having chronic back pain the rest of my life as a result of this...

This has been an ongoing drama in my life for the past week, but it has felt like a month. So many things have changed as a result of this... including work I was not able to get done. As I have been unable to sit and write for more than a few minutes at a time (I have already gotten up twice in writing this entry), I could not sit to do the necessary work toward completing my commissioning paper work. Everything is due tomorrow. After making the decision on Monday not to further stress my back by trying to keep writing, I finally sent an email today to the powers that be to formally withdraw myself from the commissioning process.

I will continue as a certified candidate, and can try another year. It was a big decision and a huge change made in only a little bit of time, but after having gotten up 3 times now for this short entry, I am confident it was the right decision. God must have something else in store for me... and I am confident something else will work out. I'll come back to this another day...

Peace, friends. I am off to get rest. Prayers for continued healing are certainly welcome.

Facing Challenges Together

Meeting with my District Committee on Ministry (seeking approval to continue moving forward toward ordination), visiting some crazy churches, throwing a baby shower, missing long-distance friends terribly, working 40+ hours per week, and working non-stop on upcoming projects and papers: these are some of the things that have made my life chaotic and stressful over the past few weeks.

It is in the midst of this kind of "busyness" that I struggle sometimes to remember that the very things that stress me out are the same things for which I should be most thankful. They are the things I can only have because of how privileged I am. That only upper-middle class educated folks seem to be privileged enough to stress over. That doesn't make me any less stressed, but it does help me to re-focus. To focus on why these very things are blessings that are helping me to grow into a stronger leader for Christ.

Even still, though, I cannot help but to sometimes wonder why we "do this to ourselves." Is education really so valuable that students should be required to live such a draining life to obtain it? It certainly doesn't make it easy for our lives to be "fruitful," or even for it to seem possible to learn 1/3 of what we are expected to... we are instead finding ourselves doing what we must "to get by," making the grade and moving on, checking things off our lists rather than engaging and digging deeper. This bothers me more than anything, because I am as guilty (if not more so) than most of my peers at doing just that... and yet I long to know the many things offered to me.

I know that a year from now, I will think all of the struggles I am battling today will have been worth it, and I will be faced with all sorts of new challenges. But one day at a time is all I can handle for now. I am anxiously working on plans for the future and I am excited to discover which path I will find myself on (as more and more seem to be opening themselves up).

Yet in the interim, I am also seeking space to focus on something new: allowing time and space for lament and sadness and struggle when things really aren't great, no matter how much we want them to be. I can no longer pretend that strangers on death row don't affect me. I can't pretend that friends I love and care about who are out of sight are also "out of mind," so I don't have to worry about them. I can't pretend like the economy or the state of the church or the election or the war don't affect my day-to-day life. Most of all, I have to stop acting as if my faith alone, independent of the faithful community that surrounds me, can hold me up in the midst of trials. Its okay not to be okay. In fact, it is critical to growth to allow for days like that. I know that a lot of what I am most struggling with now will not be resolved for several months. Yet I also know that allowing for this much-needed time, space, and prayer to guide me offers the possibility of burdens being lifted and become light as they are shared in community.

I know I am not alone in these sentiments these days... I pray that all of us facing such challenges would be able to find inner peace to make it through. (and that for those of us whose struggles are directly linked to lack of time - that we would make time for ourselves!). As always, I ask you to join me in such prayers.

The Difficult Battle Continues

... A Brief update for any who are following Troy Davis' case with me (see my post from earlier today).

Since I wrote the previous update requesting prayers for Troy, the federal Appeals Court in Atlanta has issues him a "conditional stay of execution" - meaning Troy and his legal team "must meet “stringent requirements” to pursue another round of appeals."

The Atlanta Journal-Constitution writes,
"When the 11th Circuit issued its stay, Davis’ supporters were holding a mock funeral at the state Capitol. Demonstrators carried a coffin and a petition with 140,000 signatures to the state Board of Pardons and Paroles. Davis’ supporters also delivered a letter signed by more than 100 members of Georgia’s clergy to the Governor’s offices."

You can read the full article here. Thanks for your prayers and support... they're being heard, and will continue to be needed in the coming weeks.

Prayers for Troy

Today at noon and 8pm (Eastern time) there are interfaith prayer vigils happening for Troy Davis, who I have talked about briefly before here and here.

If I were in Atlanta - or at least closer to Atlanta - I would love to be at both of these. I know my thoughts and prayers have been with Troy, his family, and his supporters all week, and that is certainly true today as well. I hope you will join us in a crusade for prayers that someone within the unjust system of power out there will take action for the justice - and dignity! - Troy deserves. His execution date is set for Monday... approaching all too quickly... but we have seen action in final days and minutes in the past, so we must not stop believing. It isn't over till its over... and even then, I'm not sure it will be...