right here right now

A Future and a Hope

2011-04-11T22:59:00.000-07:00

I was leaving a friend's house late one evening last week when I saw her in the lobby. A tall, dark-haired, beautiful woman in her mid-40's, crying softly as she sat on the bench. When she saw me she tried to conceal her tears.

For a minute I stood and felt a little awkward. Fiddled with my phone. Thought about what to do. Prayed for wisdom.

So tentatively I asked her (not wanting to be intrusive) "it's clear you're not ok, but is there anything I can do?"

She shrugged. "How could you possibly help?" Is what I imagined was going through her head. But I asked again.

"Do you just need a stranger to vent to about whatever is going on?"

She made eye contact and moved over on the bench, giving me room. As I sat next to her and we exchanged first names, she asked me only one question in an accented voice: "Do you know what pain is?" I said I did, but did not elaborate. That is all she knows about any of my story.

As she shared hers, of abuse and betrayal and of dreams that died, for a moment we were close friends. She had now found a man who was good, and she was afraid to love him; afraid of what betrayal of love can do. She knows first hand the consequences. Every day she went to church to ask God for clarity. She trusted that He would answer her.

I prayed for her outside before I left, as she savoured a cigarette with her head bowed. Then unprompted she prayed for me too, and said a blessing over me. Then she grabbed my shoulders and looked me squarely in the eye and said emphatically "You need to know that everything's going to be ok. Things will be just fine again".

Now you need to know, in the last 6 months, I have been asking God to tell me that things will be ok again, someday. I don't know if I believe that yet, everything is still just too raw. And had anyone who knew me even suggested words like "fine" or "ok" I would have scoffed at them in my heart even if my lips agreed. What does anyone know of fine or ok who has lost what I have lost?

But from this stranger, her words spoke straight to my heart. She had been given a message to pass on to me, whether she knew that or not. It's hard to say if I believe it yet... But I have hope that someday I will.

So I don't know if I have ever seen an angel, but if I have, she is a tall dark haired woman who hails from another country, smokes cigarettes, and has been broken by pain. And from that place she has reminded me of a promise of a future and a hope.

Making History

2011-01-10T20:25:00.001-08:00

It is referendum week in Sudan from January 9th to 15th. The Southerners are voting to determine if Africa's largest nation will remain one or divide into two. Please pray for the decision of the people to be held on both sides of the border, and that peace will prevail for all of Sudan's people. The results of the vote are set to be announced sometime early February.

The wind and the waves

2010-12-27T18:08:00.000-08:00

I was in Victoria this last week, and one morning run took me down a cement barge and down to the lighthouse. The wind was strong that day, and waves crashed into the barrier and sent spray up and over the edge. One one side the sea raged, on the other the harbour was calm. Few of us made it to the end, and those who did arrived soaking wet.
The next day, my mom and I tried it again. But that day, the winds were even stronger. The waves were even higher. The danger was even greater. We were saturated by the waves, and battered by the winds. We did not make it all the way to the lighthouse. In consideration of safety, we had to turn back. I saw no one make it to the lighthouse that day.
It struck me, as we were heading back into the howling wind, fighting to stay on course, that sometimes, the only way to stay upright and on course is to walk into the storm. Thus far, it is a literal observation, but I am filing it away for when I will need it figuratively.

Painkillers

2010-12-11T23:57:00.000-08:00

Painkillers are standard fare when a person becomes a palliative care patient. The number one priority in end of life care is to keep that person free of physical pain. Around the clock, the medicine does its job; though it doesn't stop the pain from actually occurring, it does stop the brain's ability to recognize that pain. There are other benefits that the drugs provide. In post-operative care, providing pain control theoretically helps a body to recover more quickly. And, for any paitient, being pain free helps to improve a person's sense of their quality of life and in doing so can provide people with mental strength as well. In some cases, a dying person regains resolve and a will to live.

With all the benefits, there are also risks. Pain killers slow down metabolisms, making it difficult for the body to rid itself of waste, and also allowing the medication to build itself up in the body. This means that blood levels must be monitored, as too much can lead to overdose and death. "What does that matter to a dying person?", you may ask. Well, a lot of dying people don't want to die, they just want to be pain free, and to live in that state as long as they can. Painkillers also slow down the Central Nervous System, which slows heart rate and breathing rates, cause fatigue, may cause hallucinations, and can also slow down thought processing. Emotions become numb. So though the benefits can be great, so can be the risks.

But, as we know, there are different kinds of pain. Pain of the heart and mind does not find relief from painkillers**, though addictions to them may mask the symptoms. Many painkillers of this kind are not pharmaceutical at all, but are behaviours and habits one has acquired to block out pain. Examples of such are getting submerged in work and other obligations; countless hours of television, video games, reading, or internet; withdrawing from life; over-participating in life; food addictions; emotional numbness; emotional walls; and an overemphasis of trying to just be "normal". Dealing with it and moving on, but skipping the deal with it part.

Sometimes these mechanisms are used to pass a little time. Then, when the wound isn't so fresh, we can go back and attend to it. But often this is not the intent. Often we kill pain with the hope that it will go away permanently and we will never have to experience it again. The problem is that no matter how many pretty flowers and new sod we put on top of that churned up dirt, roots of old will poke through somewhere, sometime, somehow.

There are too many kinds of pain, and too many kinds of possibilities of what that pain can do to go into things. I am not a pain expert, though I have great experience in certain kinds. But it really struck me how it is such a goal of our culture to be "pain free". Is there such a thing? Is it a healthy thing if it is? And is pain really the worst thing in the world, when in its terrible way it is a direct side effect of love lost? I am going to be bold enough to suggest that happiness is not just an absence of pain, as I'm sure joy is not. It bubbles from a different place. But in choosing to feel at all, in wanting to feel all the good that we sometimes so desperately must, it is impossible to block out the sorrow that rushes from underground.

In summary, if I choose to experience life, I must let myself feel. Painkillers are not meant to be permanent for someone who has a lot of living left to do. If I let myself feel, I can't control what I get to feel. There are some deep rivers of sorrow under the same ground that the springs of delight bubble up from. If I numb myself from the pain, I numb myself from all of that too. Part of healing is hurting. Sometimes a deeper hurt that I would have ever thought was possible a few months ago. I would give or do anything I can think of if it was possible to return what I have lost. But since I can't, I must learn to love life without him. And so I must feel, and so I must hurt. And so I must heal.

**(Please note some illnesses, like depression and bipolar disorder for example, can respond to anti-depressant medications enough to evert crisis and give an individual a chance at wellness. If you may have one of these illnesses, please give it a shot. You've got a lot to lose).

Some highlights of the days

2010-09-29T22:42:00.000-07:00

Though I've been out of Doroji 6 weeks and out of Africa over a month, tonight - as I often do - I'm thinking about it. So here are some of the memories that are surfacing. By no means is it a complete list.

Laughter:
- Watching our adult male students act out the part of the mother during the childbirth classes - complete with sound effects! Oh the days I wish my camera was in class :) This is only one of many reasons that I loved being in class every day.
- Ridiculous laughter over language and culture with a friend while on vacation in Kurmuk. Good for the soul :)

Wildest missions:
- Being a part of a rescue effort when one of our team members lost their phone... in the latrine. Check out Amelia Jane's "crap phone" post for more details.
- Shoveling dirt and gravel and being a wheelbarrow mama. Being complemented for my efforts like this "you're like a man". Ummm... thanks?

Favourite Journeys:
- Heading out to Gasmala with Kata. Hanging out with the women there and reuniting with old friends. Even sleeping in the goat pee bed.
- Going on outreach with the guys. Love the conversations we could have while walking together. Love the adventure of trekking through the bush. Love watching them grow with each time we went out.
- Vacationing in Kurmuk to reunite with friends I hadn't seen for 11 years, and the love and fellowship we shared that week.

Favourite TV show
- Definitely the "Scottish Hour" over lunch for those few weeks in June/July. It could be prime time programming. Can I just say that 6 Scots in one place is really fun to watch. Witty banter galore.

Favourite Food
- Anything with K3. Can I just say - you guys are the bomb! Foundation and Development, Julie Cakes, P-31, and Kev (why didn't you get a nickname?). I'd eat dinner with you guys any day of the week. Hey wait - we did that! Inside and outside of the kitchen, I miss you loads. The atmosphere, the candles, the creativity, and even Sudan's greatest playlist on ipod. Sensational.
- And - I really like Sudanese food too. A lot. I especially like the fellowship and the unity that takes place around sharing a table. I miss sorghum. And coffee.

Remembering the deepest parts of mankind.
- Faith and love are deeper than culture. Take my word for it; they just are.

Favourite Sport to watch.
- CHW vs. Khawadjia football (soccer) match. Maybe my favourite sport to watch ever. Remind me, who won again? Oh, yeah ;) GO CHW's GO! From then until forever, I pray that you will play your best and work together and go strong. GO CHW's GO!
- And I really enjoyed watching World Cup Soccer in Bunj. I was going to tell someone about it today, but felt like it would be bragging. Seriously, how cool is that?

Favourite critter stories:
- The 4 scorpions in one night with Jo. We tag teamed that pretty good, I'd say.
- "Cake! Cake! Cake!"
- The narrow miss with the night adder.
- Finding wild... hedgehogs. One was stuck in a bag of coconut and his quills wouldn't let him pull himself back out. It got rescued.

Favourite Routine things I don't do here:
- Bucket shower under the stars. Sigh. It's fantastic.
- Floss my teeth outside under a multitude of stars.
- Take 3 hours to make dinner.

There's so much more, but it's time for bed now. It's good to remember; I don't want to forget.

The big dipper

2010-09-06T22:18:00.000-07:00

I saw you tonight for the first time in a while. Standing out in the sky, your tail pointing West and the stars of the spoon making a straight line to Polaris. For the first time in a while, I knew where I was for sure. You were familiar again, in that from-of-old sort of way. Familiar in the way that I don't need to think about you, I just know you. Like when you're reading something in your own language and you don't have to sound out the word, you just know what it says. I didn't have to piece together your stars, you just appeared in that familiar composition and I recognized you without effort. Did you know, that wherever in the world that I am, I always try to find you? You are a tangible piece of evidence that makes my present real.

Months ago I searched to find you, and there you were. Perched on the horizon, upside down, Polaris dropped somewhere off the edge of the cliff of that is the sky. I can easily recognize you in that state now too. I have for a while. I remember the first time I saw you upside down - for literally months you had been just in front of me and I had no idea. On the verge of returning to my home country, there you were... something that links different parts of my world together. You had been there the whole time. If I had saw you there first, I would have thought that you were upside down here, and not there. It's just perception, that's all.

I'm in the city now, and have lost you again. Most of the time, I don't even know that I miss you. I don't even know that I miss me; that part of me that grew up with you in a brilliant starry sky that had little competition from man-made lights, and other parts of me that aren't a part of life here these days. In the place I am now, I just need to believe that you exist. There is scarce evidence downtown. But I can picture you easily, both ways, upside right and upside down (either could be either), because I've seen you both ways. I know you both ways.

When I came to the city I knew I would be giving you up for a while, that my faith would have to be deeper than sight to remember you. And in Africa I knew that too, in subsequent visits to the continent - that I would be seeing you from a different point of view. Yet you bring me comfort and contentment in these places. In a world of change and places and whirlwinds, you make me feel like I'm home. You remind me of Someone I know. And I know that though you were not made just for me, that part of His plan in creating you was to remind me of Him in whose image I am made and whose beauty you reflect. Between clouds and city lights, I won't see you tonight, but someone will. And I will continue on believing that you are there.

Here Now

2010-08-11T10:32:00.000-07:00

Tonight I write to you hearing the rain fall on the tin roofed building I am in. My time in the Sudan is coming rapidly to a close. There are things ahead that signal that the inevitable is impending. The last class to teach. A special dinner together. Visiting to do. Packing looms on the sidelines as the candle burns at both ends to try and buy time. Here. Now.
I am here now. That is the thought that penetrates all of the leaving. Here and thankful. Glad for this season. Doing my best to live fully in the midst of it. Not wanting to miss a thing of the goodness in this place; the students in the class; the people in the village; the friends on the base. Soon I will fast from all of these things, and so now I am feasting.
The only problem is that I’m not sure how it is possible to live fully in the present without somehow stealing anticipation from the future.
My sister is the greatest anticipator of the future that I have ever met. She is constantly looking ahead, delighting in what is going to unfold. Several times a year, life is like Christmas morning for her as she loses sleep going over and over in her mind the impending wonderful.
Me? I can't remember the last time I lost sleep from wonder. And objectively, looking both back on my life and ahead to what waits, there are a lot of reasons. The Bible also discusses these things with some clarity. Live fully in the present (Psalm 118:24). Anticipate heaven (1 Peter 1:3-5). What God has planned for my future is good (Jeremiah 29:11, Romans 8:28). I am not saying that an emotion of giddiness must accompany thoughts about the future. But I am asking you to consider - when you think about the future, do you let yourself anticipate what God is working out in your life? Do you have a hope for the future that you let yourself feel?
Time has passed and now I am finishing this post in Nairobi. Thankful for the days in Doroji that, by grace, were mostly well lived and well loved. In the last days of my time there, in the whirlwind of goodbyes and moving on, lack of sleep and a floods of both numbness and emotion, something happened. From no understanding of my own, leaving the land of my heart for a calculated choice of will, I felt it: a flicker of excitement for what lies ahead, whatever it is. Surprisingly this butterfly of anticipation did not rob from the present. It was enveloped in the peace of God assuring me that I was exactly where I need to be. Right here. Right now.

In Transition

2010-08-06T13:54:00.000-07:00

Doroji is a place of change. Every couple of weeks, a plane lands. This plane carries goods and people into our isolated world here, and with each person that arrives, life here changes a little bit. Senses of humour arrive and make us smile more. Encouragers disembark and build us up. Servant-hearted people find their way into nooks and crannies that the rest of us didn’t even think about before. Life steps down off of the steps and reminds us to drink deep of the well that is around us. Every soul that comes brings us something new.

Inevitably, the plane leaves again. It carries with it people whose attributes are dearly missed. The peaceful one who brought calmness with their presence. The organized one who made life smoother for everyone. The joyful ones who are always happy to see you, no matter what kind of day you had and no matter how you are feeling about yourself and the rest of the world. Friendship and kindness fly away to a new place that they need to be for a while. Though many of these people return at sometime, Doroji is transitional enough that it is unlikely that the group that sits here tonight as I write will gather together again in one place again this side of heaven after the next plane has come and gone.

I think this is a parody of life. This week, a figurative plane took off in the passing away of someone that I love. All of his attributes that I could list I will sum up by saying that I was always glad when he was there, and always sorry to see him go. When he was there, our family laughed more, relaxed more, enjoyed more. What I know for sure is that the only way it hurts when someone is gone is because we loved them, and as hard as it is to see that plane fly we are so glad that it landed in the first place.

Literally, my plane will take off from Doroji soon and transition me back to another world. Whatever it is that I have brought here for this season will return with me, and only memories of it will remain. I hope that the flower that I have planted in this place will offer blossoms and fruit long after my plane has landed somewhere new. And though the journey my uncle has taken now is not one he will return from, I am sure that this earth is richer because he walked among us for a while. Goodbye dear Uncle Bob. We will miss you because we loved you.

Things that rhyme

2010-07-14T10:19:00.000-07:00

Snake protocol says that if you see a snake, you are to keep your eye on it, yell "SNAKE!", and somebody else is to come running with a stick and kill it.

So yesterday, in the middle of rainstorm, one of the missionaries had a night adder in her house (now confirmed to be the same kind of snake I saw on the June 7th post). Our houses are side by side, so I was the only one to hear her yell "SNAKE!". I ran out into the rainstorm towards the dining hall where I knew that 4 others were who I thought would be more adept at snake killing than I am.

"SNAKE!" No response. I ran closer.
"SNAKE!" Again, no response. My tone became more urgent.
"SNAKE! SNAKE! SNAKE!"
Finally they came running out of the dining hall, sticks in hand, and came into the tukl to kill the snake.
So nobody was hurt, the snake was killed, and life went back to normal.

But why the delay? One of the girls explained it to me.
"We thought you were yelling 'CAKE!'"

It's true... We do eat more cake here than we see snakes.

Off the beaten track

2010-07-06T06:42:00.000-07:00

Friday came in perfect timing - right in the middle of needing an adventure. You may think that because I am living in Sudan, that everyday is an adventure. But even the most exotic sounding places in the world become normal life without a little help.

Friday was a village day. Every couple of weeks our class spends one day in the village, monitoring the growth of children under 5 and providing prenatal care. The village half of the students and I were assigned to is not too far away from here, and there is a main road that travels to it. But to my delight, the students led me to the village on trails off the beaten track. It was just what I needed.

We followed a "trail" of single track. This far into the rainy season the grass and maize on both sides of the trail were at times as high as my shoulders, and the shades of green that have come to life over the last few weeks are spectacular. The sky housed a brilliant (and hot) sun in its perfect blue as we trekked over gentle hills and though farmer's fields.

There was some debate as the course was chosen. If they had all have abandoned me I would have been lost; we had zigged and then zagged so many times. Whenever we trekked through questionable territory (like tall grass that made me think snakes would be hard to see), they put me in the middle of the pack - the safest place - and on we went. Through grass and mud and over fences and through valleys; my soul was refreshed.

At our destination we drank the delicious thick coffee with ginger that is standard fare here, and then went on to our work. For hours we listened to the heartbeats of unborn babies and measured the growth of children. Most of the results were encouraging. Then we shared the little water and food we had and made the return trek back to Doroji, with some stops along the way.

I am so glad for days like this... off the beaten track... adventure in the journey and not just in the destination. So much living to do between the cracks of the preplanned events. May each of you be finding your way off the beaten tracks today, and may it be refreshing to your souls!

Hunger

2010-06-25T13:21:00.000-07:00

Hunger:
a. A strong desire or need for food.
b. The discomfort, weakness, or pain caused by a prolonged lack of food.
2. A strong desire or craving: a hunger for affection.
v. hun·gered, hun·ger·ing, hun·gers

She is malnourished. Because her body lacks so many nutrients, her feet are swollen with oedema, she has a pot belly, her limbs are skin and bones, and her skin has started to slough off. When we first saw her in the village on Sunday, we thought she had fallen into the fire. Her mother loves and cares for her, and so she sought help to make her baby well. Like many people here, she went to the traditional healer (witchdoctor) for guidance, who advised her to withhold food and drink until her child got better. After a few days of her daughter getting sicker and sicker, this mother and another relative walked 5 hours to our clinic to seek help – a journey that took both courage and endurance. Now, 5 days later, the child has begun to heal. The child’s unsatiated hunger nearly cost her her life.

The dogs here are desperate. One has continued to break into our kitchen, wreaking havoc, breaking into metal trunks and causing destruction. They break holes in through the sticks on the side of the tukl, and when those have been repaired they jump through the window or squeeze and scrape their bodies through the chicken wire and back in through the hole. This week one was caught inside and a man here beat it severely. Several of us woke at 1:30 in the morning to the desperate yelps and growls of an animal defending its life. Though it was not beaten to death, it is impossible that it survived unscathed. But the next night, the dog squeezed itself back into that kitchen to scavenge for more food. Its hunger compells it to return.

Her uterus contracts again, just as it has been since her water broke 3 days ago. Though she has laboured at home stoically since, her first child has yet to be born. When the fever came, her relatives brought her to the clinic. She is exhausted, but still trying to push out this child that will make her a woman in the eyes of her culture. Never has anything had the potential to bring meaning to her life like the delivery of the baby that is inside her. But though her uterus contracts, her cervix does not open; she remains only partially dilated hour after hour, and the situation becomes severe. She will certainly need a caesarean section for the child to survive, and maybe for herself as well. Though the doctor at our clinic has performed over 500 of these operations, the risk for infection is too great with the facilities that are here. Her relatives find a vehicle to take her 6 hours to the closest hospital. Against odds, her child’s heart continues to beat strong. The baby hungers for life.

Hunger. Every day each of us has on earth, hunger will be with us in some form or another whether it is hunger of the body or hunger of the soul. It can seduce us to pain; it can inspire us to fulfillment. Left unsatiated, we will die. Satisfying it in dangerous ways also provoke morbidity and mortality. The good news is that we are created to have the deepest hunger of our beings filled by the Bread of Life who came down from heaven. He is the One whose eye is on even the desperate dogs, and so much more those denied food, those led astray, and those battling for life. Taste and see :)

The Routine

2010-06-17T10:08:00.000-07:00

It's 5:50 am when the alarm rings. I press snooze at least once before putting on my headlamp and untucking the mosquito net. I will need to see the floor very clearly before putting my feet down, and natural light won't light up my tent enough for almost another hour. I put on a skirt and t-shirt, and shake out my socks and shoes before heading outside to the airstrip for a half hour run. Though the air is thick with heat and humidity (it is already about 30C), the 3 runners at this base keep going. But no one is charting any personal bests.

At 6:45 I arrive back at base and have a quick shower. 7am are group devotions, where we each take a turn sharing something from the Bible and praying for one another and the other bases in Sudan. Then it's breakfast - almost always oatmeal with powdered milk, peanut butter, cinnamon, and dried cranberries. I leave for school, a 5 minute walk from here, at about 7:40.

The school day lasts from 8:30 until 3pm officially. Then most days I just hang out at the school and answer questions from the students, and invest time. This is often my favourite part of the day.

Now it's time to think about supper. I'm part of "K-3", which is kitchen 3, where 5 of us cook on a rotating schedule. Making a meal here takes about 3 hours, as we light a charcoal fire and make everything from scratch. This week we've been going crazy here making chinese food, sweet and sour meatballs, stuffed peppers, banana bread, and roasted goat. A plane and a truck arrived this week that have brought the first fresh produce we've seen in a long time.

The evening is filled with clean up, quiet time, another shower, sometimes internet, the occasional games and movie nights. Every evening I sit on the "veranda" of my tent, flossing my teeth, and looking at the sky. I can see both the Big Dipper and the Southern Cross from my vantage point, though the North Star is just out of view. The haze from the humidity makes the stars on the horizon unclear, and I think it's pretty close to the edge. (Davey, let me know - 10 degrees North:))

Then I go into my tent for the night, and close the door with clothespins. The zippers are broken and unfixable here, and securing the flaps closed seems to keep the dogs out. I take one final look around the interior of the tent with my headlamp, looking for critters. Most spiders I let stay - there haven't been any yet that have been too creepy. The couple of lizards that are there are also allowed to stay. Centipedes and scorpions are not. Whack. Then I check my sheets carfully to make sure that I am sleeping alone and crawl into bed, leaving my chacos behind, and tuck my mosquito net in securely. It's somewhere between 10 and 11 and I am so ready for sleep.

That's a typical day for me... Even having a typical day is quite something :) Wherever you are in the world, I hope yours was wonderful, that you saw the simple beautiful things in it, and wondered about the One who made them all...

Reasons to be Thankful

2010-06-07T10:20:00.000-07:00

It's been a wonderful week, full of new experiences & opportunities. This list of things that I'm thankful for will give you a few snippets of what this week has looked like.

1 - A chance to spend the weekend out in the village of Gasmala, a 7km walk from here. It was just so nice to be out in the village with the people - hearing a lot of Mabaan, speaking a little Twam'pa with the only Mabaan family that used to live in Bonga, and sharing friendship and time with the Sudanese. We also got to walk out to Thomaji where a new borehole (water source) was officially opened. It was the kind of weekend that gives you a glimpse of how amazing heaven will be, when people from every tongue, tribe, and nation will gather together eternally celebrating what God has done for us. The unity of Christ across cultures that have little surface commonalities is an incredible thing to experience.

2 - Teaching has been really great - the 13 men that I spend my days with, assisting a veteran teacher, are so wanting to learn. Most of them spent 2 hours after class today just hanging out, digging deeper. Learning in another language, about a topic that is beyond any science most have even heard of, and is sometimes in contradiction to their own health practices, is a very difficult thing. All of them have wives and children, yet they live here in communal living with the other students. They push forward and I hope so much that each of them will succeed and become pivots of change in their communities.

3 - This morning I was walking to class, in the middle of a dirt path, my mind going over the day that was about to unfold. Then I heard it - a hiss... Then I saw it - a green snake with black & white markings rear up about 1 foot from my left foot. Instinctively I zagged away from it, and thankfully, so did it. I called for someone to come and kill it and 2 men with sticks came and beat it to death. My students tell me that it was a cobra, and though that is not the official verdict, they are not as rare here as one would think. I am very thankful today for a God who didn't make me have to be the one to try out the snake anti-venom!

There is always more to be thankful for... the day to day of life here; the woman I am learning from as I teach under her; the others who love Sudan on this base and we spend time together processing culture and remembering our own; the simple beauty of this dry land turning neon green... But I will leave the stories here for now. May your days be wonderful today, all over the world! I hope that you are knowing how God is taking care of you just as He is me, and able to delight along the way :)

More Eyes

2010-06-01T10:30:00.000-07:00

If you're interested in life in Doro from other perspectives, click on the links to the right. "Amelia Jane", "Kata", and "The Agnes'" are all here and writing about it. And they even have pictures :) Enjoy!

PS - and now you can link to "Kev" too!:)
PPS - and now "Julie"!
PPPS - and now "The Bracht's" too:) We keep growing here in Doro.
PPPPS - and Sheila

Today my name is Khawajia

2010-05-24T06:51:00.001-07:00

Today my name is Khawajia. In the past I have had other names - Ferenji, Yoo-Enn, Mizungu, and Gringa to name a few. They all mean the same - that I am a stranger in a strange land, an alien, a foreigner.

Today I am so interesting. You stop and stare at me like I am facinating, marveling at my skin and eyes and hair that each have their own colours. I don't know if the contrast of my body to everyone elses is beautiful or strange, but at times I am self-concious about it. Where I come from, to be pointed at and yelled at and laughed at is very rude, and though I know you aren't trying to be mean sometimes I'm still uncomfortable. But I try not to show it.

Today I spent time with you in the village, and I used every word of your language that I know. Sometimes my brain is so confused mixing up the words of every place I've been. It gets tired easily, but I really really want to communicate with you so I try. I am so thankful for your patience with me, it makes me want to know you even more. I don't come from a patient place, and I know that few of my kinsmen would offer you the grace that you have given to me.

Today we weighed your children and your mothers. This small bit of care we can provide is so little compared to what is available in other parts of the world, but it is something. Deep down, I don't know the best way I can help you - how to balance relief and developement with empowerment for you to grow on your own. This is not Khawaja land, it is yours, and so growing is up to you. I don't always know how to help you to do that but I pray often that our work here will help to make your people strong.

Today I know I am weak. I see your women walk with hundreds of pounds on their heads or pump water at the well. The muscles of your arms and legs are defined like ropes just under your skin, and your will to make your body work is much stronger than mine. It is life for you here. I have also heard the stories of what your mind, your heart, and your body have endured in your exile and I hope to never find out if I am as strong as you are. In my country, I am not weak, but in yours I am. That takes some getting used to.

Today I taught English to your men, and sat and watched them learn about community health care. Someday you will be leaders in your communities, and this study will help you to encourage your people long after I am gone. I want you to know how much potential you have, and I want you to keep trying even when it's boring or hard. But in this culture, I don't know how to do this. You are a man and so our relationship is very structured. But I pray that you will know how proud I am to walk with you for a little while and am sure that you will teach me far more than I teach you. You are taking on a big responsibility, and I know you are able. I pray that you will know this too and step out in confidence and competence.

Today I am torn. I love being here with you, and I love so many in my own country too. I know that if I were to stay here forever, or there forever, or somewhere else, that parts of my heart will remain here, and there, and wherever. Because of you, and others like you, I sometimes think I will be a sojourner forever and I can't quite believe that just one place in the world could ever feel like home.

Today I am thankful. I am glad and I am content to be in the midst of this season, for how many days it lasts. It is a perfect gift from the One who knows how to give perfect gifts. I hope that my time here will be well spent, and that I will bloom in this place I have been planted, for too soon I will have to change my name again. But for today, my name is Khawajia.

Inviting you to the South Sudan Spa

2010-05-17T10:44:00.000-07:00

There’s a lot of hype in the West these days about healthy living. A girl here was looking at magazines from her home country (the UK) and read some articles that got us talking. Virtually everything you need for a healthy lifestyle is here in the South Sudan. Let me tell you why you should head here to Doro to have a fantastic spa experience (minus the pampering).

1. Apparently Lentils are a “new” powerfood. We eat them all the time here.
2. Drinking lots of water is good. We do that here. I’m between 4 & 5 litres these days, and am not over hydrated. See #3 to see why.
3. Hot yoga (exercise done in 40C+ weather and extreme humidity) is pretty fad these days in the West. It is a lifestyle here.
4. Reduce transport via motorized vehicles. Check.
5. Cut back on junk food. Let me tell you, that's easy to do when the closest good chocolate is a 5 hour plane ride away.
6. Get lots of rest. The other night I was sleeping so deeply that I did not hear the dog that came INTO my tent (the zipper is broken) and dragged my garbage (from the corner by my bed) onto the veranda and tore it apart.
7. Have excitement in your life. My scorpion count has tripled - now up to 3! (the second met its demise in the form of my shower bucket). Another escaped. There was also a large spider in the shower tukl last night, and the larger beetles are starting to emerge because rainy season is upon us. Also, a snake was killed right outside of my tent last night. The man who killed it said that a black snake is a bad snake. This one was black. Living with critters is exciting!
8. Oatmeal is apparently also a "new" must eat food - almost every morning here!
9. Eating organic is good, right? Here, everything is very very organic.
10. Mud packs and exfoliation for your skin are side effects of the dusty wind.
11. Vitamin D from the sun is plenty here!

So come on down to the South Sudan Spa! Especially if you are a doctor. Or anything really - we'll find a place for you!

* Idea not completely original - credit given to theagnesfamily.blogspot.com

Impressions

2010-05-15T06:33:00.000-07:00

I am in the Sudan now, and will be posting about it soon. But for today, here is a list of observations from time in Nairobi.

My on-again off-again relationship with peanut butter is definitely on again.

Rice made with water that kind of tastes like algae also kind of tastes like algae.

My newly pedicured pretty toes stood out remarkably today as I passed a lady begging on the street. For a moment our feet were freeze-framed together... mine clean and polished; hers... gone. Her one foot was roughly amputated somewhere in the middle of the foot, and not where bones would end naturally. I can’t think of what kind of injury could have caused it. She is one of many people who sit on the street here, with parts of their bodies absent or disfigured, dependent on those who pass by.

There have been bloodthirsty mosquitoes keeping me up at night. As one I was chasing landed on the ceiling and I went to smack it, I noticed the remains of several other mosquitoes that met their end on that ceiling – it’s covered in several streaks of blood mixed with legs. I felt strangely comforted as I realized I was not the only one who had fought such a battle in this place.

It was recent enough (11.5 years ago) that I was in Nairobi the first time. I can remember how I felt the first time I passed through these streets yet I am not her now. It has been so interesting remembering who I was in this place and having her eyes a little bit, but feeling so different about things in the midst of it.

The Sudan news of the day is that I killed my first African scorpion today - in my TENT! Thanks Jodie for your prayer that I would see the wonder in all the critters and not fear - He is hearing you!

Hope you are each having a wonderful May :)

Buying in Bulk

2010-05-09T06:28:00.000-07:00

Because of a general lack of food, intensified by flooding during harvest season last year, we must pack in a significant portion of our food supplies. So yesterday, I did a mother load shopping trip. Want to know what’s on the menu from now until mid-August? Keep reading...

5 – cans of tomatoes
5 – cans of peas
5 – cans of corn
5 – cans of tuna
2 – bags of brown rice
2 – bags of quinoa
2 – pkg. Spagetti
2 – pkg. Fusoli
1kg – Oatmeal
12 – individual pkgs. Oatmeal
1.36kg – milled flax
35 – Clif bars
2 – 1kg bags dried chick peas
1 – large pkg. Brown flour
1 – small pkg. White flour
2 – 400g pkg. Roasted peanuts
1 – 200g pkg. Roasted cashews
1 – 400g pkg. Roasted almonds
3 – 1kg jars peanut butter
2 – 250g pkg. Skim milk powder
1L – high heat milk
1 – 1.36kg dried cranberries
1 – 1kg bag dried blueberries
1 – 1kg dried mangoes
96 – fruit leathers
12 – fruit bars
2 – pkgs. Soy mince (yeah, it looks as great as it sounds...)
1 – 1kg pkg. Beef jerky
12 – individual pkgs. Beef jerky
6 – pkgs. Dried whole eggs
2 – small pkgs. Chocolate chips
1 – large jar of cinnamon, also small pkgs. Of cloves, ginger, allspice, nutmeg, italian spices, rosemary, and black pepper
15 – pkgs. Of spice mixes (thai curry, alfredos, vietnamese lemongrass, butter chicken, tomato herb)
7 – pkgs. Dried coconut milk
5 – pkgs. Soup base
1L – lemon juice
8... 7.5...7 – chocolate bars
1 – pkg. Cocoa cream cookies (from my friend in Egypt :))
5 – pkgs. Electrolyte enhancing jelly beans

Foods that are usually easy to find in the market include potatoes, carrots, garlic, onions, lentils, milk powder, white beans and seasonal fruits & vegetables. However, just last week, half of the market burned down, and we haven’t yet heard which half. So scratch half that list...

I'm thinking that the next few days, weeks, & months will have more to write about than a grocery list. I look forward to sharing with you what, by grace, I will learn in this place.

Egypt Blitz

2010-05-04T10:19:00.000-07:00

I am in Nairobi, safe & sound... all the luggage has even arrived in tact (except for the luggage locks... somehow they lost their keys en route, but nothing that a hacksaw couldn’t take care of!).

The journey began by leaving in a snowstorm. I am so thankful for my uncle who agreed to drive to the airport even though the forecast was for 25 cms. Travel to Cairo was uneventful with good seatmates and all luggage arriving safely, and my friend was there to meet me.

Egypt was wonderful... if you ever want to travel to an interesting place bursting with hospitality, this is it. What follows is the blitz of those 3.5 days. Keep in mind that though I slept 13 hours my first night there; in total I only slept 19. My conclusion is that Egyptian people must have a special blessing on them for overcoming sleep deprivation.

In 3.5 days we:

* Saw my friend’s church and met many of her friends.

* Saw & explored the pyramids.

* Rode a camel.

* Met new friends from Egypt and the USA.

* Took a river boat ride on the Nile at sunset.

* Toured the Egyptian museum and saw the mummies.

* Ate a turkey dinner with my friend and her family – brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces, and spouses – at 1:30 in the morning! They assured me this is normal in Egypt... (Really, Egyptians never sleep...).

* Took the train to Alexandria and ate falafel by the sea, watched the fishermen, toured the world’s largest library, and went to the museum.

* Crossed the street many, many times. Wow – it is an art. Being in the middle of a fast paced busy road with cars whizzing by on both sides is totally normal here.

* Got a pedicure. The esthetician was amazed at the state of my feet post half-marathons and post Alberta winter. My ugly feet and black toes are now transformed! (And it cost me about $4).

* Took the metro several times across town. Cairo is a HUGE city. The entire population of Canada and then some is in one place in Cairo and its surrounding area. Traffic is pretty amazing, though I don’t think it’s quite as nuts as Mumbai.

That’s about it for now... just arrived in Nairobi yesterday and slept 12 hours last night making up for Egypt :). Will head to Sudan on the 11th if things go as planned. Will get some supplies today and just kick & get rested. I hope that each of you are well & will update again when I can!

Elections - April 11-13

2010-04-11T20:56:00.001-07:00

Today, tomorrow, and the next... a revolutionary concept is happening in the Sudan. They are having a presidential election. If you are a prayer, please pray for the country at this time. The next three days are bursting with potential for peace and hope or violence and evil. Millions of people will be affected, many of them having just returned to their country and regions from decades as refugees and IDP's. Please pray that the elected leader of Sudan will have respect for all life, every family, gender, tribe, race, and faith; that they will be a leader of integrity, of justice, and equity. Please pray that the election itself will be held with integrity - that every vote will count, and that everyone will have a chance to do so as an informed citizen and without bribery. For most of us, Sudan is far away and a place we don't think of often. Please make these next 3 days an exception as we stand in the gap for this nation. Thank you for your concern and your prayers.

Deep down, I want to be Sam...

2010-02-18T11:08:00.000-08:00

Adventure. What does that word do for you? Do you see a frontier and possibilities, a need for strength; an opportunity for achievement? Maybe it is cause for trepidation and caution... avoidance... fear. For by its very nature, Adventure is unpredictable - it is what it is because outcomes can't be calculated.

*Disclaimer: I really enjoyed the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. Now, I am not a scholar on the books, so if what I'm about to write about isn't true to the characters (as deemed by a LTR superfan), then please forgive my ignorance. What follows is simply a casual observation and not in depth character analysis.

Bilbo was an adventure junkie. He was quirky in the first place, and branching out to new worlds and new things was a way he accepted himself and came to understand that his unique personality served a purpose outside the shire. He never stopped relishing past adventures or wishing for new ones. He never forgot that the world holds possibility and opportunity. The threat of loneliness and isolation that are a part of many adventurers did not compare to the delight of living a life like no one before him had done. Adventure met him and he never looked back. He embraced it even though it further separated him from the world and the people he grew up with.

Through circumstances out of his control, Frodo was called to adventure he did not want. He did not want to bear such a burden on his shoulders, yet understood that the consequences were grave if he did not. He sacrificially shouldered a weight that no one could fully appreciate, and was tormented by the task assigned to him in exchange for an epic experience. His life was meaningful and necessary to more than just himself, and its impact so great that it affected the well-being of generations to come all over the world. Upon return, he withdrew from his peers and found it difficult to interact in the merriment that was his culture. The gravity and depth of his journey left scars that never lifted. At a young age he left normal life permanently and joined a community of people that were not his own, but who could somewhat understand and appreciate the life and choices he had been forced to make. After Frodo saved the world, he was never again able to fit in the life he that was once his.

Adventure came to Sam too. His loyalty to his friend had him volunteer as support on his epic journey, helping him bear the weight of his burden. Certainly Frodo would never had made it without Sam. Though Sam walked as many steps, through as many lands, and faced similar hardships along the way, he was not consumed. He wasn't sure if choosing to join the adventure would keep him from all that he dared to dream back at the shire, but he knew and accepted that it might. Yet what he did know on any given day was that he was where he was supposed to be. When Sam returned to the shire, the adventure he was on gave him the appreciation and courage to live fully where he was at, taking nothing for granted. He lived fully in the shire, then fully in the Grey Havens when the next phase of his life came to pass. He had the rare gift of being able to live well in every place, and the adventure he was on in his early life fueled this.

Adventure, in some form, calls each of us. Some seek it; some avoid it; some fear it; some despise it; some believe it justifies their meaning. For some it is their kryptonite, and others their cocaine. How about you - is it your identity or your biggest fear, or are you somewhere in between? Are you happy with who adventure is making you? Do you ever stop to think that all roads unavoidably shape us, no matter what roads they are.

My life has had a lot of opportunity for adventure, of many kinds. I have been accused of being a junkie for it, but that's not how it feels on this side of my skin. It's hard for me to know what my life looks like from a "normal" vantage point (whatever that is). My opportunities are greater. My ties are less obvious. I've moved more than most people (conservatively, 23 times in less than 14 years). I've seen more than most people. I don't know who all of this is making me into, and I don't know that the adventurer always is the only one who decides. As mentioned before, adventure has risks and side effects... not returning the same is one of them. As I pull out onto another road, I'll keep you posted :)

New Post

2009-12-22T20:41:00.003-08:00

Scroll down to November 22 for something new. Merry Christmas!

My Life Chronicles, December 4, 2009

2009-12-04T23:19:00.000-08:00

Beginning of the day: 0523 - 0740

Fridays are early mornings because I commute out of town for clinical practice and have to be there before 0700. And, with blizzard warnings forecasting storms to hit during the night, today started earlier than usual.

At 0600 ish I was in the parking lot... but my car battery was completely dead. Like the kind of dead that happens when you leave-an-interior-light-on-3-days-ago dead.

Not once in my 6 am commutes have I seen someone in the parking lot, but today there was a stranger passing through. And said stranger just happened to have an Eliminator battery charger from Canadian Tire with him. He hooked me up and in a half hour I was good to go. I drove to clinical amazed at God's care for me.

Middle of the day: 1605

When I returned from clinical today, it was impossible to park my vehicle in our building's parking lot. You see, it has a very steep slope that I sometimes gear down to first for in the middle of summer to prevent stalling. It is also a right angle turn from a downwards hill to an upwards hill, which icy roads don't cater to very well. So I bypassed it and went and parked on an off street.

End of the day: 2245 - 0100

I headed out into the storm, (still raging, in it's 17th hour), and saw tire tracks. SOMEONE had made it up the driveway. My pride told me "You can too!" My pride either ignored or forgot the fact that I drive an economy car sans winter tires. (Sigh... Oh 4 runner how I miss thee! Let me count the ways...) So after barely getting out of my socked-in parking spot, I manoeuvred my way around the block. Getting traction was almost impossible. My pride overruled that observation too.

I did not make it up the driveway. Instead, I came about 18 inches from hitting a parked Acura as my steel box careened sideways down the street. Thankfully the wooden planters and "no parking" sign saved me. (The no parking sign didn't make it. R.I.P.)

The next hour involved getting my building manager up, a random stranger offering help, waiting until the Acura moved, praying for wisdom, and then breaking-the-whole-way-but-still-sliding down the hill and safely slipping into an illegal parking lot at the bottom of the hill. Who would ticket anyone on a day like today, right? Just to be safe, I also put "the club" on my vehicle - incase some ambitious thief wanted to shovel out my Vibe and go for a 5 km/hr joyride.

From that parking lot I walked home by myself, marveling at the beauty of this warm and beautiful snowy night, and the One who made it all.

The End

Lest we forget.

2009-11-22T17:16:00.000-08:00

I was in a restaurant with my sister celebrating her birthday. A busy place, it was filled with the noise of tinkling cutlery, clinking cups, and conversation. But in moment, a hush fell over the place. Conversations ended, and people stopped fidgeting. This unrehearsed act of respect took place when the radio cut out to the sound of a bugle sounding out "The Last Post" on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. A myriad of unrelated strangers collectively paused and payed respect to the sacrifice of life that had bought our freedom and ended World War I 81 years ago.

Now, the signing of the Armistice did not prevent World War II, nor did it prevent Canadian soldiers from being involved in several other missions since. I cannot even imagine the disappointment and frustration of the WWI veterans when Canada went to war on a global scale a second time, just 21 years later. One generation was all it took for the treaty to be breached - the children of the veterans would now be going to war. For both of those generations, that must have been horrifying. The more I thought about this, the more I wished that the Armistice would have been once and for all.

And the more I got thinking about that "once for all", the more I was reminded of... Christmas. I thought of the war that has raged through the ages, between good and evil; between love and hate; between freedom and bondage. And my heart was touched again by how this God of heaven became flesh and dwelt among us, led us by example in His life, and paid the price for sin with His death.

Seems too good to be true, doesn't it?

Now neither the crucifixion of Jesus, nor His resurrection in 3 days, put an end to bloodshed on earth. Battles still rage in the same war that started in the beginning. But the promise of that event ensured the future; the war was already won.

So on November 11th, I remembered the soldiers who lost and risked their lives for my freedom; the apples of God's eye that Evil sought to destroy; the civilians who were brave enough to risk all that they had to bring freedom to the persecuted, and who rose against the invaders of their lands. I remember them... and I am thankful.

I remember also that this very hour, there are places on this earth that Evil still reigns, that soldiers still die, that people are still persecuted, and civilians still act with immeasurable bravery.

And most of all, as Christmas is now upon us, I remember that the tears and the trials and the pain of this life are all temporary. For a long time ago, a baby was born of a virgin and was laid in a manger. The chastisement of our peace was upon Him. By His stripes we are healed. Lest we forget.

Not so different

2009-11-05T15:06:00.000-08:00

This is an old story... it happened two years ago. But lately, I've been remembering it, so thought I would share it with you! What follows is a journal entry from living in Cyprus.

She is a tiny Sri-Lankan woman who lives somewhere in this neighbourhood. She shops at the same 24 hour kiosk I do - we arrived and left at the same time. When she stopped to pick some jasmine flowers it touched me - it is exactly something I would do. She rolled the blossoms in her hand to release the scent and she drank it in. I love doing that. So I made a comment with my hands about how beautiful the smell was. She smiled and agreed.

So we walked together for a block or so, no common language to unite us further. But as we parted ways I put my hand to my chest and said "Sandra". She repeated my name with some delight and pressed her own hand to her chest. "Chanda", she said.

This encounter reminded me we are all more the same than different. Because of Jasmine flowers one beautiful night, I was given the opportunity to really see her. For those minutes, it was like we really knew each other. We were both struck by the beauty of a flower and the amazement of having the same name. We are not so different, of course, when we were made in the same image.

Another archive published at last!

2009-10-23T21:51:00.000-07:00

Scroll down to August 7, 2009. And that's also a 7-8-9, depending on how you order things!

New Post

2009-09-28T20:49:00.000-07:00

Scroll down to July 8, 2009... that's 7.8.9 :)

How He loves us so.

2009-09-05T19:45:00.000-07:00

He is jealous for me

Love's like a hurricane, I am a tree

Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy

When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory

and I realize just how beautiful You are and how great Your affections are for me.

Oh, how He loves us so

Oh, how He loves us

How He loves us so. (x2)

Yeah, He loves us

Whoa, how He loves us

Whoa, how He loves. (x2)

We are His portion and He is our prize,

Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes

If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking

So heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss and my heart turns violently inside of my chest

I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way

He loves us,

Whoa, how He loves us

Whoa, how He loves us so

Been loving this song lately... makes me think about what that really means - God loving us. How does that play out in real life? How should it affect my understanding of God? How would He lead me with His love? How does He want to satiate me with His love? How does He want me to delight in His love? I am perplexed and I am amazed when I wonder about it all.

This song was written by John Mark McMillan the morning after his best friend was killed in a car accident. It tells the story of that friend coming into the presence of God on the other side of eternity. Neither his afflictions nor regrets hold him back from fully receiving the love God has for him.

I wonder sometimes about how much that heaven can be lived on earth. There will definitely be MORE of that realization in heaven, face to face with the One who loves us so. But on earth, He has given us enough that we should not lack any good thing. I don't understand the magnitude of all that it means... even now I've typed and erased several lines in attempting to sum up His abundance for us on earth; but it's too much for me to understand. So for now, in the midst of wanting to understand more, I'm simply going to enjoy the truth therin. May it touch your heart to its deepest parts.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JoC1ec-lYps

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8AIF_ieVre0&feature=related

English 101

2009-08-07T21:28:00.000-07:00

Synonyms are words that mean the same thing but are spelled differently. Following examples are things that do not mean the same thing but we often want to believe they do. (And yes, in example 1 the word is also spelled the same way... if you are staunch about synonyms, please forgive me ;) )

1 - Fear of God and fear of anything else. Often we are "led" by our fears. Fear of failure; fear of rejection; fear of the unknown; fear of pain; fear of being like Ezekiel (a very odd prophet of the Old Testament.) In this case, fear and fear do not mean the same thing. They are opposite roads that don't travel in the same direction. One is the road to easy living; the other to fullness of life. The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom. Any other kind of fear is not.

2 - Wisdom and Reasoning. These are not always opposites, but it is important to seek the Lord for every new thing. Situations are not cookie-cutter... solutions aren't either. So often it is a pseudo-wisdom that leads away from fearing God and towards wisdom of men reasoning the circumstances. Man's wisdom is paralyzing or distracting. God's wisdom leads us in the way that we should go.

3 - Rest and Sloth. For 2 years now, I know that God has been leading me into a place of physical rest. Sleeping regular hours, limiting commitments, making room for Him in my life. Really teaching me about the consequences of unnecessary busyness. Having often lived in disobedience to this command, let me tell you that rest and sloth are not the same. If you want to know how to pray for me, this is it. I hate wasting time and I am presupposed to wasting time... it is a cyclic battle I fight most days.

4 - Joy and Happiness. The difference was described to me as "Happiness depends on happenings; but joy is what remains when there are no reasons to be happy". At the same time, I believe that God wants us to be happy, because He loves us. But He can give the miracle of joy in an absence of reasons to be happy.

5 - Peace and Complacency. Doubt, guilt, and regret can all survive in a harmonious atmosphere. Peace can survive anywhere.

6 - Hope and Wishing. Hope does not disappoint. Wishing sometimes does. As a dreamer and a visionary, I struggle with this often. I forget to reserve my hope for God alone. I don't know how to balance believing in people but not hoping in them, but think this is something He wants to teach me more about.

7 - Faith and Freedom - Where the Spirit of the LORD is, there is freedom. And that LORD is with us wherever we go. So whether it's a physical place or a circumstance, it's important to have our hearts in a clear conscience towards the God who has given us freedom and is with us wherever we go. This is so very different from using faith as a license to sin, under the auspices of the freedom He has given us. It's not so much the where as it is the heart.

So there's English 101. Pretty basic stuff. Here's praying for fear, wisdom, rest, joy, peace, hope and faith to each of you!

Not even this...

2009-07-25T23:06:00.000-07:00

They can be moments; they can be seasons; they can seem like lifetimes. They are the seconds, the minutes, the hours, that we spend wishing away. They are most likely difficult, uncomfortable, or seem empty. They may be wished away because of what we convince ourselves is "hope" for better in the future... then things will be really good. In those places, we don't want now - we want then. Sometimes "then" is past, and other times it is future. Now becomes nothing more than the product of the past and the means to the future... and that future -if we let ourselves - we will spend wishing away too.

My lesson on this front came in the middle of the night shift. Now, if you are a shift worker, or a parent, or a myriad of other vocations that leave you unwillingly sleep deprived, you will understand what I mean by exhaustion. Your body begs you to sleep; your mind concurs; your everything is weak. And it was in the middle of a night shift, coming into anticipated days off, that I heard God speak to me about time. "Not even this..." He said... "not even this should you wish away." Don't wish for a faster passing of time to get to your bed. Don't wish even this long, dreary, and difficult time away.

That early morning He gave me the gift of being able to see the temporal things around me, that I need to cherish in that moment; place of life stuff. You can insert your own blessings here, but mine included: nieces young; family in good health; a body that is still good to me; good friends in close proximity; little heartache. So many blessings; so much to be thankful for. All things that will be lost eventually in the passing of time. All seasons that will pass away someday. All things that I need to treasure more. That is what now is for.

Love it more

2009-07-08T22:04:00.001-07:00

I'm back in school these days... settling back into routine... sleeping regular hours again... getting ready for another bout into what, once again, feels like my "new" life (though it's already been 9 months). I started this post months ago, back in July, when my new life was much like my old life in some ways. Working back at my old job in dispatch for the summer was the same. Commuting was different. It was a time in my life when I was thinking a lot about the things I love to do; the things that remind me who I am... and thinking about how my life was too busy & I was too tired to be involved in them. That stage of life did not cater to hiking trips and leisurely summer days. The stage I'm in now does not contribute well to experiencing the world outside of this city. And though I have a few WONDERFUL friends here, my life isn't as socially connected with games nights, a group, a sense of social belonging as it once was... long long ago now it seems.

It was in the midst of the mourning and the wishing that I understood... whatever remains, I must love more. What are the remnants in this city life; this student's budget; this place in life... what that I love is still alive in this place? I can't replace anything; not the mountains, not the laughter in the games nights, not the vulnerability of our Bible study group, not the long summer nights on the dock with the silence and the stars, not the deep friendships nor opportunities He has afforded me in different places of the world. I am here now. And with every shred of my being I need to love it more... and love it now.

As I write this, I am so sure of the fact that I am known... God has not forgotten me. He knows what delights me; He remembers what makes my heart rejoice, even when I am unsure or have forgotten. Those things I will discover in this place, or whatever place He takes me to in the months and years ahead. This post is not to sound forlorn... but an encouragement that wherever we are there is more than enough: to delight your heart; to make your soul rejoice; to give you new eyes in the same circumstances. The Lord your God is with you wherever you go... or wherever you stay.

Hypothetically...

2009-07-08T15:14:00.000-07:00

Hypothetically speaking... has anyone ever had their armpit(s) froth after a run (or other sweaty activity)? I am (hypothetically) suspecting that the shirt I was (hypothetically) wearing didn't have all the soap washed out of it. Just wondering if, (hypothetically), this has ever happened to anyone else? Frothy armpit(s) on a run, anyone?

Embarrassed

2009-06-14T15:13:00.001-07:00

It was only a handful of coins... about $4 worth, I think. You know, the ones at the bottom of your purse or your pocket that clink when you walk and you dig through every now and then for exact change. Maybe organized people even save them and roll them once in a while, I don't know.

This morning in church they took the monthly benevolent offering. Money specifically for those in our church who don't have enough for the basics. When they made the announcement, my heart was prompted to give, but when I reached for my wallet it wasn't there... it was at home. So I remembered the change pocket and thought about it, but when it came down to the swirl of activity of offering plates and awkwardness, the change I was holding in my hand didn't make it in.

Do you want to know why? Bottom line: because I was embarrassed. Embarrassed of a handful of change, of the sound it would make, of what it would look like to put coins in a plate filled with paper. I justified it all the way home, "it's only a few dollars; God knows your heart and that you wanted to give; you'll give another time" kind of talk. But you know, God prompted me to give today... and so that means with whatever was in my hand today.

I wonder what He wanted to do with it... maybe buy me some faith? I am hoping today will service to give me courage for next time - to look more outwardly than inwardly, and not be embarrassed about what I've been given to give.

Perseverance

2009-05-29T22:29:00.000-07:00

Perseverance... is for when it is hard.

This is one of the lessons of my last few years of living. I have learned it well, and not because I have succeeded, but because I have failed. God took me on a journey, stripped me of things that founded my faith besides Him - ideologies, good ideas, areas of my life I thought God would never touch if He really loved me - those have been shaken. And in the midst of it all I wondered if the plans God had for my life were really full of a future of hope. I wondered if I was a pawn that only purposed to serve those He really loved. I believed I was a concubine in the house of my Lord, and not His bride. I believed I was somehow excluded from His blessings. I wondered if He was good. I doubted the promises of His Word when I looked through the glasses of my experience. On so many levels I failed to hold fast to His promises, and to Him. I did not persevere - yet in it all I knew He never let me go, though I came close to letting go of Him.

The book of Proverbs talks about the temptress. She masks herself as wisdom but her goal is to destroy those who love God. It says that all who were slain by her were strong. She is presented as an adulteress, but I doubt that adultery is the only trick in the bag. I don't know what line she is using to get you down the stairs into her house, but I know the one she used on me was far less complex that I would have suspected. She had been drawing me in a long time before I got to the stairwell of her house... by the time I was at her door, I already believed the lies. By grace, I am climbing up the stairs of that house, back into the streets, searching for the real voice of wisdom and not the mimic whose lies set us up to be destroyed.

Most of the time, I try to write these posts so that anyone can understand them. I know that this one has more "Christianese" than what is normal. But today it is directed towards those who once loved God, those who are wondering if He really loves them, those holding on by a thread, those who have already let go, and above all for those in the midst of a dark and faraway place, whose life with God is nothing of the promises they had expected right now. Hold on dear soldiers of Jesus Christ... Perseverance is for when it's hard. Perseverance is for when there is no tangible reason to believe. Perseverance is an act of the will, and sometimes every other facet of your being is telling you to stop and give in. If you feel forgotten, if God seems silent, if your dreams have just been shattered, if your spirit is broken - hold on to Him! Yes, it is really hard... it may be the form of betrayal, or sadness, or hurt, or ridicule, loneliness or neglect, a big life changing impact or a slow grating of events that would be insignificant on their own - whatever the case, the events have been specifically crafted to make you fall... your set of circumstances may not be unbearable for someone else, but they touch you to the depths of your heart. Take courage friend, and continue to stand.

If you have let go, doubted, disbelieved, or wallowed... there is redemption. Even those ashes will arise beauty... His good will overcome the evil. His plans for you are good. He will not leave nor forsake you. He is able to do abundantly more than we could ask or think. He is who He says He is.

"... our course is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our enemies will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys." Uncle Screwtape, from the Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. (The Screwtape letters is a fictional book of letters from Screwtape to his nephew, teaching him how to be a good demon and keep people away from the love of God.)

Porcupine

2009-04-29T22:05:00.000-07:00

I saw him on the grass as I was biking home in the twilight... a porcupine. He (she?) was on the grass right off of the trail. We both stopped what we were doing and stared at each other. I'm sure the blinking lights on my bike were mesmerizing... he let out a sound. I had never heard a porcupine sound before. Like a crazy person, I talked to him... told him I was thankful to have gotten to see him tonight, that I was glad that being out later-than-intended had met with this great reward, and I told him that Jesus made him. He replied by using his back feet to scratch his belly and his chest, then he bumbled away. First he tried to climb up an evergreen tree. His forelegs held on to the lowest branch while his back legs scuffled the bark trying to get some traction. No luck. After about a minute he gave up... scratched again, let out another sound. Then he bumbled along towards me, then veered off onto the trail and walked out of sight. Now I was the one mesmerized watching him... I stayed until he was completely out of sight. Though I have seen some great porcupines in the wild before, I had never had quite this kind of variety show before. It was delightful.

So why was I so excited about a moaning, awkward, non-tenacious creature like this? To understand my thrill, you must understand something else. My parents had a pet porcupine before I was born. Albert was found as a baby, starving in the garden. My dad, always kind to animals, nursed him back to health with patience and gentleness. In return Albert looked to my dad as his mother. So, having heard those stories from forever, I've always had a special place for the little critters, even though I almost never saw one in the wild when I was growing up. Then, in the days after my dad died, a porcupine hung around the farm. And it reminded me of the goodness and kindness and gentleness in my dad. It also reminded me of the kindness of another Father, whom I believe gave the porcupine as a gift to our family in those most difficult of days. Evidence that even if it was a long time ago, something special and unique and happy happened in our lives... and a wonderful memory was born.

So now, spotting a porcupine gives me a thankful nostalgia, for the father who loved a starving little critter back to life, and another Father who fervently does the same.

Spring

2009-04-02T22:01:00.000-07:00

Let me tell you about a typical Canadian "spring" day I experienced. Walked to school in the sunshine; walked home in a snowstorm... but the sun was still shining. On the way home I saw both a (yes, a - single, one) car covered in snow (all others weren't), and the first tinge of green in the partially snow covered grass. A typically Albertan Spring day... winter and summer, dying and living, both alive in the same moment. To those not from here, it seems impossible.

Spring has been hard coming this year in Alberta... unseasonably cold with lots of snow (For emphasis, I'm still working on this post April 14th and we got another dump of snow today... and again now that it's the 24th). In fact, it can be hard to believe that Spring is coming at all. But I have faith that it is coming, for spring has followed every winter that has come before. Because of this faith, I can see signs everywhere that winter is about to give way to new life. I see it in longer days, buds forming on dead branches, and grass that offers a tinge of colour. I can even see it in big wet snowflakes. All circumstances further strengthen my hope because every minute sign announcing spring's arrival is met with anticipation, and these sightings in turn build my faith that it will be here soon. It is a wonderful positive feedback system.

However, it's made me think ... I wish that I believed in God the way that I believe in Spring.

The truth is, He is more impending than the seasons, more reliable than the sun, and more faithful than the birds that return year after year.

Though I feel the exploration of this idea is far from finished, I also feel like it's time to post anyways... But I do want to say that I am thankful for a Son that shines in the storms.

It's a long one...

2009-03-12T23:26:00.000-07:00

Scroll to Feb. 18th if you're looking for something new...

Waxed

2009-02-23T17:52:00.000-08:00

Does anyone out there still know what the slang "waxed" means? As in "this morning I totally waxed outside of my building". Apparently it's old school... just wondering how many people can still remember what it means. The new word is "biffed" incase anyone's interested.

Epiphany

2009-02-18T22:39:00.000-08:00

Not as the world gives, I give to you... this is one of God's promises to those of this earth. To be honest, there are times when I struggle with that... when the world's promises seem so good. More specifically, worldly promises that thread truth though them, enough to make me forget that they're not quite God's. The world's promises are intriguing; they don't live in the land of black and white, as they are too artfully crafted to exist without shades to deepen them. And - adding to their complexity - they are not completely wrong.

Another one of God's promises is that we will reap what we sow. It is stated strongly in the Bible, and emphasizes that God will not be mocked. Our behaviours will catch up with us, both the seen and the unseen. We won't get away with anything. On the flip side, the Bible also alludes to blessing those who do good. So doesn't it just make sense then that how we live wills into our lives good and evil, joy and pain? God gave man freewill, and from that freewill we make choices. Doesn't it go without saying that those choices lure into our lives blessings or curses?

I've had conversations lately with all sorts of people, all sorts of backgrounds, all sorts of beliefs, and spanning these beliefs is a similar idea: whatever you give to the world is what you will get back. It's packaged with a variety of words, has different spiritual views and philosophies, but essentially the same. Isn't that what I believe? Didn't those other faiths and good people borrow that concept from the Bible?

I wanted to accept that logic easily, but I was torn. Wasn't this philosophy essentially of reaping what you sow? So why wasn't it sitting right in the deepest part of me? I went to ask God about it... and His answer was a revelation. He brought me back to the basics of who He is and what He's doing in people's lives. I must confess the context for our conversation was me complaining to God that I feel like I sow more than I reap.

What He said to me was: "I'm not trying to make it up to you."

Those words blossomed an epiphany. He is not karma-Jesus.

There is a freedom that comes in understanding that God's blessings aren't dependent on me. Maybe, if I dig deeper, I will find that "blessing" doesn't have the same definition in His dictionary as it does in mine. I think "fun, easy, effortless"; like people being nice to me, finding money on the sidewalk, and completely perfect health. It's not that those things aren't good... but I believe God thinks deeper; more like "growth, perseverance, courage". So He creates opportunities to live well through adversity, be vulnerable, and learn to forgive. Circumstances we would "will" into our lives cannot bear such fruit.

To be clear, I'm not suggesting that God doesn't reward faithfulness; I'm just saying He doesn't owe us what we want. It is important to remember that the Bible tells us that He loves us... has a future and a hope for us, full of good and not evil. The Bible says that all of our needs are met in Him... and even that He delights in giving us good things. But be cautious believing the image the world wishes was Him - that He is rushing about heaven, trying to orchestrate more good events than are bad. He is not weighing the nice acts I've done and making sure the equivalent is returned to me in nice things back. Karma-Jesus doesn't exist; Savior, redeemer, hope-future-plan-for-you Jesus does. Not as the world gives He gives to you.

Burned

2009-02-12T15:48:00.000-08:00

Though I usually write about events that have actually happened, today is going to be a bit of a thought rabbit trail. It begins with fact, moves quickly to fiction, and ends in philosophy. Sound facinating? OK then, let's start...

Fact: I was gone from my house for over an hour yesterday - and left a candle burning. This is especially bad because I have one Nugs who lost her whiskers to same said candle a couple of years ago. When I got home, visions of potential disaster flitted through my head. Such as...

Fiction: The house burned down, or in the least was very damaged. Though it would be an opportunity to meet the local fire department, I would feel like a tool (not fiction). Next thought: "What do I need to do to make sure that NEVER happens?" Several factors contributed to the house (potentially) burning down, so several options exist that could break the cycle of possibility. Such as...

1. Take a look around before leaving... write myself a note on the door if I have to - "blow out candle" - so that I'll do just that.

2. Never EVER buy a candle again... crazy dangerous things! How could I have been so stupid to have been enticed to buy a candle in the first place? I can never be trusted with a candle again. It wouldn't be right to forgive myself and as penance I'll subject myself to this punishment.

3. Never EVER light a candle again - even though I love them... maybe I should expand this to include birthday candles - because look where it almost got me!

4. Get rid of the Nugs. The candle itself was in a safe container in a safe place - only she could cause this disaster - it would be HER fault! Make her pay! (in advance...)

5. Change? Meh... nothing happened. Who cares?

Philosophizing: Most of those options are extreme, I know... but here's the thing: don't we take similar routes for other bad choices we've made in the past? Don't we overcompensate for past experiences to make SURE we will never be hurt like that again, and blame ourselves, deprive ourselves, and mistrust ourselves? Do we blame others - even before we know them - just because they COULD hurt us; and if they do it would be our own stupid fault. Or maybe we strengthen our resilience to believe there is absolutely nothing wrong with ME and the choices I've made... and then repeat dangerous and hurtful habits just to prove to ourselves those offenses didn't really matter.

So I left a candle burning. It could have been bad, and I need to make sure it doesn't happen again. But the HOW is really important. A lot of ways of prevention are arsonists to our souls. Yes the past can burn us, but we're the ones who pick at it and don't let it heal... there is a better Way.

Giving Directions

2009-02-03T21:33:00.000-08:00

I'm in a new city... a new place... a whole new world. And in that world today, as I was walking home from school, someone asked me for directions. This man was not from here, had just come from Ft. Mac, didn't have enough money for the bus... he really needed to find the address on the location as soon as possible... he was looking for the Salvation Army. He had already asked several people where to go, and got different answers from each one... his feet hurt... he was visibly tired... he needed rest.

Now I have been exploring the city a fair bit on foot, and when he showed me the address, I could see the problem - he was on the wrong side of the river. You see, the river snakes through Edmonton, making certain avenues and almost every street appear on both sides. My foot journey the other day had taken me to an address I thought not too far from the one this man was showing me. So after several minutes, this gentleman was on his way, his gratitude evident, and he thanked me for taking the time to help him... "finally", he said, finally someone who steered him the right way.

On the way home, I thanked God for the opportunity to be involved in this man's journey today. I was glad that I was on that street corner at the same time; glad I could be helpful, useful, a blessing in this man's day.

It's 7 hours later now... and I just looked up the address on the map. I sent him to the wrong side of the river. In a sitcom, it would make a great episode; in real life it stinks. A tired man, alone in a big city, looking for help, weary from his journey, was led astray. In his world, it doesn't matter what my intentions were, the reality is that I was just one more person who didn't help him get where he needed to go. He has already suffered for my mistake.

Maybe this is dramatic. By now, even with the detour, I would hope that he has been somewhere warm and safe and dry for a few hours; hopefully he is well fed and sleeping as I type. But it has gotten me thinking about really knowing the directions - for the roads in the city or the roads in life. When somebody asks, you've got to be sure. I think I need to go and study the Map...

Don't know what you got 'til it's gone

2009-01-13T15:08:00.001-08:00

My new place of residence is adjacent to the Legislative grounds. I've wanted to explore it ever since arriving here because of the beautiful lights on the trees as part of the Christmas decorations. A skating rink (there all season) and ice sculptures complete the effect... it is a beautiful wonderland.

Sunday evening an old and dear friend came to visit, and because the wonderland was calling to us, we ventured out in the cold to experience it. Carpe it (pronounced Carp for us:)), as we would (and did) say. Not only were the lights and the sculptures and the rink beautiful, but God threw lightly falling snow and a full moon into the package too... so rotic. Though we were cold and a little wet by the time we got back to the apartment, we were so thankful that beauty is something that makes each of us rejoice inside.

I was even more thankful the next night walking home from school. The lights were gone. Had we not taken that perfect opportunity, there wouldn't have been any opportunity at all. It got me thinking... what else in life is like that? What is an opportunity today that may not be tomorrow? What will be mourned if the chance is lost?

I believe the loss would be impactful in 2 ways. The first is the obvious; the enjoyment of the experience. It was so much fun to be there with a good friend and delight in the elements and the beauty. We created another memory to cherish. The second loss is more subtle; miss these opportunities too often, and you may forget that you loved them at all. A beautiful park becomes no longer alluring, and is no longer a reminder of how you were made, and essentially of who you are. It is the very matter regret is made of.

So I don't know what opportunities are wavering for you this day, and certainly don't know when the window to use them will close. But maybe, just maybe, you and I should consider carefully what is set before us. Whichever way we choose, it will be life changing.

New Post

2009-01-08T15:37:00.001-08:00

Hey Folks,

New post, scroll down to Nov. 16th...

Check ya later, ST

Horses

2008-12-17T21:58:00.000-08:00

I just want to say that there are 3 other posts I've been trying to write... picking away at... writer's block I guess, has kept them from being posted. So in the future when you check in, you may have to check back to see anything new. I'm not techie enough to change the dates, and even if I could, I don't think I'd want to... the chronology is important to me. OK, now on to "horses".

On one of the last days in Costa Rica, spending time with God, He showed me a picture of a horse. She was penned, snorting, wild, wary... eying suspiciously a man sitting on top of the wooden fence. He held a lasso; He wanted to tame her. She just wanted to be free.

Then the man spoke to her: "I will be out here everyday, letting you get used to me." Then I saw the horse as she was roaming the plains - no borders, no boundaries... and still the man was there, patiently watching her, biding his time. You see, He already has plans for her, and they will come to pass.

I didn't need the brain of a rocket scientist to understand that God was talking to me, about me... but I was surprised a few days later when He led me to an article about horses. The writer told about the virtues of a good battle horse... will go ahead without fear... trusts her rider... presses on with courage despite all signs of danger...

This is who He is training me to be. But until I am her, He will sit on the fence posts, follow me into the plains, letting me get used to Him. He is patient with my skittishness... He is gentle with my fear. Someday He will break me... someday He will ride me... and the day I succumb to this is the day I will be truly free.

Had the sun never left, I would have stayed forever.

2008-11-16T16:31:00.000-08:00

I spent a couple of hours yesterday afternoon sitting by a river in rural Costa Rica. Unlike most of the other afternoons I've been here, there was no rain - just 25C, the sun, a breeze, and the beauty of the jungle all around us.
Warmth is a wonderful thing... one of the things I treasure and appreciate most, both literally and figuratively. I sat on a rock and read a book, soaking in the heat and loving every moment. All too soon, it was time to go and prepare for the darkness that would set in without warning... the equatorial sun is not like the northern sun; there is no twilight here. So I left the sun in it's empty sky, left the rock that was sharing its heat, left the river, the breeze, the birds, and butterflies... left the paradise of a perfect day.

That leaving was weeks ago now. Yesterday's leaving was of a different kind. I resigned my job of almost 6 years to go back to school. Why? Because I believe it's what God is asking me to do... the journey to bring me here has been rocky and humbling, but through it He is teaching me to believe how trustworthy He is.

When I first began working here, I came across a quote that said "one half of knowing what you want in knowing what you must give up to get it." It was impacting, and since then has remained in my file folder reminding me that someday I would need its advice. Yesterday was officially that day.

I don't know what my new city and new life will hold for me, or if it will be even close to what my logic surmises it will be. But I'm hoping that it will include warmth... maybe literally only from a space-heater and a blanket... but I'm hoping figuratively it will be an entity that will flood my being into my home and through my hands. I hope also it will be shared with me from those who will soon be part of my new life. And if it doesn't, I know that God is capable enough to keep me warm inside and towards others, for it is the way He is.

Figurative warmth can be like a memory you can recall like another place far far away. Closing your eyes you can remember how it felt, you know you were there, but only in memory is it alive... all evidence of today fails to reproduce it.

I am here now... in a 500 square foot apartment, with a cat, a laptop and the homework to make use of it. It hasn't sunk in yet that this is to be my new life for a while. Perhaps for a long while... But I am here now, as much as I was there at the fire hall, and as much as I sat on that rock on the edge of the river the day the sun was splendid in its perfect sky. The delight of that moment is available here, somewhere... my job now is to find it. So search for it I must... and I'll keep you posted on that journey.

Where the ground is level

2008-10-22T23:02:00.000-07:00

They stretched out row after row, most with a single fragmented sentence to capture each life. I walked among them searching for my own grandparent's grave, wondering about the lives that once filled the bodies that lay beneath the stones. The story of a life is so much more than a few words can express.
For the most part, I like cemeteries. I like the peacefulness, the reflection, and the silent history that lies beneath the earth. And on this day, scanning surnames looking for my own, I made an observation about the small town cemetery. Lying side by side were the Catholics, the Protestants, the Orthodox, and those without affiliation or other affiliations. I like that picture so much... I think that it is a picture of heaven.
I do believe that Jesus is the way to heaven, and there is no way around that. Only He could ever be enough to take care of our sin so that we can come into the presence of God. But I also believe, like in the cemetery, that souls once defined as Catholic, Protestant, or Orthodox, and those without affiliation or other affiliations will rest side by side in heaven, worshipping the One who made the way for them to get there. The divisions will be gone, along with the tears, the shame, the hurt, and everything else we will leave behind on this earth. Who we put our trust in is the key to heaven and abundant life on earth- not which affiliation or building we think He belongs to.
The ground at the cemetery was level... as is the ground at the cross. For those of you thinking that any part of you divides you from the celebrations of heaven, take it to the cross and ask Him if He will take it for you. The answer will be yes.

Time to vote

2008-10-17T12:43:00.000-07:00

Though elections are everywhere, this post has nothing to do with that... what I need is your help. I have been trying to downsize my things for the last few months, and today marked another milestone. This inland Canadian girl, survivor of decades of Prairie winters, put into the givaway bag and got rid of... my Sorel's. I am a Prairie winter girl who no longer has any -40C boots. So please vote to clear or condemn my conscience - am I still Canadian?

Hey, did you ask the Lord to humble you lately?

2008-09-30T06:33:00.000-07:00

Last week was the last adventure race of the season... Race the Rockies Urban Adventure Race in Edmonton... awesome. It is an introductory race designed to introduce new people to the sport without scaring the crap out of them.
My (awesome and amazing and buff) partner were making good time to checkpoint 2. We were with the elites, making good choices, making good time. We had found our way through the bottle neck opening across the river - we were minutes away from a much needed break and change of discipline (our butts hurt and needed off our bikes for a while). 5 minutes away from the checkpoint, navigating our final road - we asked God which way to go... and the answer was SO CLEAR... "Go back to Checkpoint 1 - you totally forgot to do it."
Checkpoint 1 is about a 10km bike ride away, and it's not flat. We were within a few blocks on our way by the first time. ARG! - but so funny. Lessons from this approximately 3 hour mistake (bike time + fatigue) include but are not limited to:
1 - The title of this blog is the question I asked my partner on the bike ride back... going back the opposite way, passing almost every team that is now ahead of you, is a very humbling thing. And I did get asked a few times "is this your first race?" "Ummm... nope."
2 - Even though they're all going the right way, they all questioned their direction because of one team going back the opposite way... 31 teams were going with the flow. The opposite way? - just us;)
3 - We were so focused on that tight river crossing that we totally forgot the next step... my partner is very detailed, and I am a big picture person. We wrote down street for street our entire day. Still, we both missed the elephant on the map labeled Checkpoint 1.
4 - BUT - our communication was awesome. We were on the same page all the way.
5 - AND - our attitudes were pretty good too - we had a wonderful day (though it ended up being 9.5 hours)... we were fatigued and dehydrated and needed real food, but enjoyed the whole day. Yes, it is tempting to give up, but we didn't let it be an option. Wow the Edmonton river valley is something, and with great company and the chance to explore it, it was a dream day.
So that's the nutshell... hope you got a laugh out of it, we sure did:)

PS - As another part of the race, we had to swim across the North Saskatchewan on September 27th... some of you (especially those I've been to Costa Rica with) know just how significant that is for me... BRRR...

Loving a Stranger

2008-09-18T17:48:00.000-07:00

I am no template of Christ's compassion, but I know it's something He wants to develop in me. So every now and then, because He is faithful to that goal, He shows me someone and lets me experience a bit of how He feels for them.
It happened tonight walking home from work. As I passed by a random stranger, there was a huge rush of love and compassion for him in my heart. A deep love and feeling of understanding towards him, an intricate knowledge of God's love for Him. I didn't know how to act on it in that moment, in that place, but the experience opened a door in my heart.
You see, on that day, feelings of compassion were far from my mind. As I walked, my thoughts rested on someone else and were far from loving and understanding. Someone who has hurt me and I don't know what to do about it.
In that contrasting moment - feelings of love and compassion towards a stranger vs. a lack of those feelings towards someone I know - God spoke to me. He asked me how it could be so... this compassion for a stranger and not for a friend. "They hurt me" I answered... sent me into protection mode. Active love and compassion require vulnerability, and their actions had sent me into hiding and unable to receive God's own for them.
"You hurt Me." He said... "but I died on the cross for you anyways... I love you that much. I have that much compassion towards you." He hasn't gotten jaded by my daily attempts to push Him away; my multiple promises to draw near and subsequent multiple failures to be still that long; my lack of trust and faith that sprout weeds in every part of my life.
And He made it clear in the same moment, the reason He gave me that intense glimpse into His love for that stranger. It's something He wanted me to taste because it's something He wants to develop in me. It's something He can see even when there's no evidence... because HE planted it there. He wants us to live out our full potential, even more than we don't want to live empty, regretful lives. There is an antidote... it was Him in the flesh, it is He in the Spirit, it is Him who made us and knows us full well.
Someday when I am old, it will be these experiences that will appear in memory to remind me that I had chances to make good choices for an amazing life... I hope to be writing about that journey someday, and not the one I wished I had had. The same for all of you... most of you are in the first halves of your lives, and none of you are dead yet:) - it's not too late to be still and know He's God. I guarantee He has something to say to you.

Testify

2008-08-26T21:53:00.000-07:00

It's not every day that I'm aware of God looking out for me in a profound way. I know He always does, and I'm sure if my eyes could see day to day all the places He intervenes on my behalf, I would be amazed... all of us would be. But 2 times in the last 2 weeks, things that should have happened didn't... and when they didn't, God let me see that it was because of Him.

The first happened as I was taking my bike off of my roof-rack. I am not tall enough to get it off without opening the door and standing on the back seat. I also don't have enough upper body strength to pull the fork off the holder without a little inertia. So as I was yanking my bike upwards, using my body as momentum, I fell. Holding the bike above my head, I couldn't hold on to anything or brace my fall. But mid-slip, I stopped... abruptly and completely stopped falling. In that moment, I was very aware of a world that I cannot see.

The second event was on Sunday evening. I was driving back from Manning (1 hr north of Peace River) after a weekend with some great friends. In a very rural place, at dusk, I drove over a peice of tangled steel that lay completely across one lane of the highway. This piece of steel should have given me a flat... but it didn't. As I drove the rest of that beautiful, deserted lonely road, I knew it once again - He was watching over me.

So, that's it... just wanted to testify of His care over me... may I continue to see it in my life, may you see it in yours too.

Loving every minute of it...

2008-08-11T22:35:00.000-07:00

I started and titled this post a long time ago... I was in between 2 great things - races. August 9th was an adventure race in Crowsnest Pass, August 17th a half-marathon in Edmonton. Now it's September... (the posting won't tell you this, so I will). It's not just the racing that I enjoy so much, it's everything the training gives me - excuses to get out there, motivation to hit the trails when I'd rather be sleeping, and generally better health. It gives me a better capacity to enjoy life - not just because I'm in better shape, but because I'm out and experiencing it more. Racing forces me to train longer distances than I'd like, bike steeper courses than I'm comfortable with, and get into the outdoors more. You know, I might forget I love it if I didn't have to do it... neither would I love it if I didn't have to do it. Racing in a body that isn't ready isn't so fun. So I began this post in the midst of these 2 things - both things that I wasn't ready for at the time I signed up... the moral of the story? Sometimes you just gotta do it... put your name to something that will make you work to be more of the person you want to be. Otherwise, you can forget who you are.

I'm not who I thought I would be

2008-07-24T11:26:00.000-07:00

For me it happened on the beaches of India as I watched the dolphins dance off shore. The close friends I grew up with experienced it in tears, pregnancy (with her fourth child), and visiting her country of birth. Some feared it, some forgot about it - we all faced it. Most of you have at one time, too... for those born in 1978, this is the year we turn 30. Already? Seriously?

In talking with those of "my" generation, I've discovered a myrad of feelings about it. One girl who felt like it fit and anticipated it greatly. Another who hasn't crossed that line yet and is contemplating which tatoo, piercing, and drink will accompany the celebration she doesn't want to have. I myself experienced being the sum of all fears for an 18 year old girl who confided to me in horror "I don't want to be like, 30, and not married!" I don't think I have been someone's biggest fear in the flesh before... it still makes me laugh.

The last post was about our future selves condemning our present selves. This post is to suggest that our past selves may also influence us. In many ways, I remember 16 year old Sandra - her emotions, what she looked like, what she thought was funny, what she was going through. I remember her, we are similar... but I am not the same as she. I have lived her lifetime again, almost... I should not be the same.

She is still alive in me, and I love snippets of memory that remind me of her. She focuses me sometimes, reminds me what's important, she knows how to dream, she is extrememly passionate. But she is not allowed to condemn me for who I've become. I have seen more, faced more, experienced more, lived more...

Though I don't have all the things nor have lived all the things she would have wanted at my age, I have and experienced many things she never dreamed. We don't always get to choose the roads available to us, and few of mine were ones she would have chosen. But my 30 year old self is learning that it's not as much the road traveled as it is how you journey along that road. Sometimes the best we can do is to scatter seeds along the way, for flowers we will never see bloom, for we will no longer be there when they do. At least, we won't be who we were when we planted them. Letting go of seed requires an open hand.

So, I'm not who I thought I would be... most of the time I'm ok with that. And I think that if I could explain it to her why so many of her dreams haven't come true yet, she'd understand. And then she'd reach her hand into a pile of seed and throw it into the wind ... just like me.

Jane Doe

2008-06-23T18:24:00.001-07:00

It was neither a dark nor a stormy night. The moon was full, and as it was the summer solstice in Alberta, far into the northern hemisphere - so not very dark at almost midnight. I was with a stranger I don't know, though for those hours she was my best friend. We had been placed in the bush country of Nordegg together as adventure race volunteers. We got a little adventure of our own.

Driving along the highway at 23:30 that night, in the twilight hour, in the stillness of the wind, we saw her. Broken and bloodied, she lay still in the middle of one lane of the highway: Jane Doe. She was hazardous - big enough to cause an accident and difficult to see. She received our compassion - what a horrible way to die. So my new friend, compelled by a memory of her past that I don't know, suggested we move her. As we exited our car and walked towards her, there was a great twist added to the story - she wasn't dead yet.

It took us quite a few minutes to decide what to do. The danger factor was still real for passing motorists. The compassion factor was even greater now as we looked on this helpless, hurting creature. She was going to die, we couldn't help that. Damage had been done that we couldn't reverse. "May You grant us wisdom, O Lord" was my prayer... this was a situation I had no idea what the best thing to do was.

We didn't have a gun, and though we talked about using a knife to slit her throat, neither of us wanted to do it. One memory that flashed before my eyes was of a cat we had when I was a teenager that got caught in the fan belt of a car. Even though he was missing both hind legs and his tail, he didn't want to die. I applied that memory to Jane Doe - even though she was in pain, I didn't think she wanted to die.

We discussed strategy on how to move her - there was too much traffic that night to let her stay on the road. Her legs were too broken to touch - it would be too painful, and her head would have to be supported. So combining any training I'd had with human trauma patients and my friend's knowledge from med school, we came up with a plan. One of us would pull her from the armpits, the other support her head, and we'd get her off the highway as painlessly as possible. She struggled and kicked when we came near her, but I found she would calm when I stroked her side and talked gently to her.

We donned socks as gloves and got started. She was not heavy, but moving her was awkward. As gently as possible, we pulled her off of the highway. She died in our arms. If we had known her death was that imminent, we probably would have left her to die "peacefully" and saved her the trauma of moving her. It's quite likely that our touch contributed to fear that made her heart give out even faster... hindsight is always 20-20.

So much of life is doing the best you can with what you've got at the time. Just like our night with Jane, there are times we have to act and have no idea what to do. Maybe someday life will teach me a lesson so that if I ever come across this situation again, I will know exactly what to do. But in learning that lesson, I can't judge myself for decisions I've made in the past. Same goes for you - you can't regret your past choices when you did the best you knew how at the time.

I guess that's the point of this post, and maybe the whole point of that night with Jane and my new friend. Thank you Jane that your last moments gave me an opportunity to grow. Thank you new friend that your old memory led us to take that opportunity. Thank You Lord for wisdom you gave us to do the best we could with what we had. Now that this event itself is a memory, may it fuel the ability to make better choices for the future - without that future self condemning me for who I am now.

They don't fit

2008-06-12T23:11:00.001-07:00

Coming back to "normal" life after an adventure always takes adjustments. This time, the life I've returned to is similar to - but not the same as - the one I left. Same job; different responsibility level and different crew. Same city; different house and living arrangements. Same friends; different places in life. Even the April weather was almost identical to the September that I left. In the early days of being back, I almost believed I'd never left.

Returning after being away a while is like putting on a pair of old jeans and finding they don't fit anymore. At times when you're away, you just think about them and how comfortable they feel. Problem is, you're never the same size when you return. Parts grow, parts change, some parts warp... but whatever the differences, those jeans don't feel the same.

The scientific term for all of this is reverse culture shock... I like to think of it as evidence of growth. No, I am not the same as when I left, but wasn't that the point? Doesn't everyone leave - whether for a 5* vacation or a remote missions trip; 5 days or 5 years - so that they (at least slightly) become a different person than when they left? Some seek renewal, some rest, some persective, some purpose. All want to cope better, understand more, enjoy more fully, see more clearly and live better these remaining days that make up our lives.

For me, being away is most often transforming... experience is a tool God uses for me to not be conformed to this world, but to be transformed by the renewing of my mind. It involves seeing what once was normal in a different light, and reacting as who I am now. Sometimes there is an intense desire to just be who I was, but it becomes impossible to be that person honestly.

I encourage each of you in that journey, wherever you're going, to let it transform you. We are loved too much to not be given circumstances to grow. The obvious opportunities are the ones that use airplanes, languages, and diverse cultures as the mediums. The important opportunities are what surround us everyday as we seek to be world changers in the communities we're in now.

The point of yesterday is always to prepare us for today. So friends, wherever you are, in whatever place, take the best from all you've known and bloom where you've been planted. No matter how you feel, you have been made ready for that. So let yourself be transformed by the days gone by - and get some new jeans.

India Revisited

2008-05-31T15:26:00.000-07:00

Here is one more snapshot of India. The class I was able to teach; one of the hospitals we visited trying to find help for our spider bite and (?) dislocated hand; the only ambulance I saw my entire time (note it is an eye ambulance:)); a beautiful colourful market; and if you look 2/3 the way up the white background building, you will see a man working - with absolutely no safety devices.

Bogmolo Bogmolo Bogmolo

2008-05-13T19:25:00.000-07:00

Bogmolo is the name of the touristy seaside town we stayed in our first 3 weeks in India. From there we travelled by bus a half hour to serve in 2 of the slum areas. These photos contain pictures of 2 people mentioned in other posts - the 4 year old boy with the ankle wound, and the 8 year old shopkeeper. There is also a snapshot of the pharmacy most of our first aid kit came from - I think if I would have wanted a nuclear bomb, it would have been found here. I believe that India still has more to teach me - it would be exaggerating to say that 6 weeks there even scratched the surface.

Gadarenes

2008-05-06T12:01:00.000-07:00

Pictures from Jordan - these are the ancient ruins of the city of Gadarenes, the city of the demonic man that Jesus healed. He was sent back here to show people the difference in his life after he had been healed.

2008-05-06T11:37:00.000-07:00

Rudder Me

2008-05-03T19:05:00.000-07:00

It was a question I couldn't answer, from a stranger I don't know. Yet my reply would provide direction in one life, if not more. Any wisdom or experience I may have are not enough to answer this question - it is too big, and it means too much. So I went into my sanctuary with God; the place where, by grace, I can hear Him speak... as long as I come in honesty and with ears to hear. And so He spoke - but once again in a way that was more than I expected; He painted a picture so that when I reply, I will understand why.

It's like this - say that I ask someone who is a real estate agent/mortgage broker/financial advisor "should I buy this house?" They can say "yes" or "no", based on all of their experience. Say that person is also one of your closest friends, and they can remind you of what kind of house you want and need based on how well they know you and your house now. God is both of those things - expert and friend - and sometimes He chooses to answer in a yes/no, black/white sort of way. But more often, if we are willing to hear, He will share with us His heart on the matter.

So what He showed me this week, in my basement room huddled around a heater, was a picture of ships. As I was asking Him how one stranger can ask another stranger a life changing question, He "changed the subject" and showed me ships on an open sea. And I saw in that picture that whether we know someone for a second or a lifetime, we steer one another on the open sea. One ship passing another in the night may not say much about the ships one to another, but may be entirely about the courses those ships chose in the passing. "We all rudder one another" are the words that I thought watching this. Sometimes we steer one another to love and good deeds; sometimes to fear and selfishness. But it is almost impossible not to rudder someone, even just one degree, when we sail close enough for another ship to be affected by our waves.

Though I certainly don't have an answer yet for the question, I am in a better place to understand the importance of it. May we have the wisdom and grace to sail past others as we would have others sail past us.

Number Crunching

2008-04-30T18:05:00.000-07:00

4 - how many weeks ago I landed back in Canada
2- how many weeks I've been away since then
3 - the number of provinces I've been in
8 - the number of beds I've slept in these 4 weeks
2000 - approx. # of kms. I've driven (personally)
2400 - approx. # of kms. I've flown (not personally)
10 - family members I've been able to see
17- friends I've been able to catch up with face to face (plus their families)
7 - of these friends introduced me to their new babies (one introduced me to 2:))
so many more - friends left to catch up with
7 - days left until returning to work
1 - faithful God who has seen me through all the changes of the last few months and weeks and will continue so into the future

I will continue to post on this site as inspiration hits, and hope to have pictures soon for all of you visual people - I know it's been a long time, sorry 'bout that!

Can you smell it?

2008-04-10T13:11:00.000-07:00

It only happens for a few hours, maybe a few minutes when you enter a new country. You can smell it. I don't mean the smells of street stands, perfumes or hygiene, urban or rural; I mean the smell of a nation. Other senses will continue to remind you that you are in a new place or have been to one - vision compares images, sound compares languages, taste compares foods and water, touch compares climates, cultures, and topographies. With just one breath, scent can have us travel across time and space and circumstance faster than any plane. Our will is not involved in this journey; suddenly we are there, in the midst of a memory.

Since smell works by detecting changes, you can stop smelling the ordinary. Whether we spend our days in a rose garden or a pig barn, after a few minutes our noses can't pick it up. But someday, when we've left those places, those scents will bring us back. Not just where we were, but who we were and what was happening in the midst of it. This is how the mystery occurs of how one person can smell crap and think happiness, another roses and think misery. This observation is both literal and figurative.

There is another scent that lingers in the air. For some they are so inundated with it they fail to recognize it anymore. Others fear it or hate it and try not to breath it in. But those who love it can detect its aroma in every place. It is the smell of God. His book tells us that the fragrance of His knowledge is diffused in every place through those that trust in Him. For some it is the fragrance of life, others the fragrance of death - who is sufficient for these things? It is the breeze that blows through both the rose garden and the pig pen, and it is free. May each of us breath deeply today, and may it be life to us.

To all of you I will see again and for the first time - smell ya later!

Hello Canada

2008-04-06T15:13:00.001-07:00

The answer to the riddle is:
"Having many things to write to you, I did not wish to do so with paper and ink; but I hope to come to you and speak face to face, that our joy may be full."
There are 4 books in the Bible titled John. One is long and is one of the 4 Gospels - the other 3 are short letters side by side right at the end of the New Testament. Of them all, the shortest is second John (2 John), and the words above in parenthesis are the second to last verse of this letter. This is what I am looking forward to with many of you!
Congratulations to Sarah I. for getting it right - here's looking forward to a coffee date:) And some of you have written to me to say you can't post on the comments page of this blog- I'll try and lift the restrictions I didn't know I had. You weren't willfully excluded:)

Riddle me this...

2008-03-30T07:56:00.000-07:00

There are 4 Johns. One is big and stands alone; the other 3 short and stand beside one another. Find the second to last words spoken by the second and smallest of these - they are what I want to say to you:) May they be true of many of you, DV, starting April 2nd - I buy coffee for the first who responds and gets it right:)

Let's talk Turkey...

2008-03-14T09:38:00.000-07:00

Another random post, friends, just to say I'm still tickin' here in Turkey. So here's the random thoughts and facts to keep you up to date:
1 - I'm an undult. Yep, that's right, an undult. I found out this fact from a 3 year old I'm spending time with these days; after you are a teenager, you become and undult. Even though she was amazed I wasn't still a teenager - sweet kid:)
2 - Even though it is in the low 20's (70's for you south-folk), it is necessary for me to wear covered shoes and a sweater here when outside. Why? Because I wasn't feeling well last week. And unless I cover my feet and arms (completely and thickly) in public, my hosts are obviously not taking care of me, and it reflects badly on them. So yep, 20+ degrees and my Chacos are at the door as I wear instead... black dress shoes... Some days I just don't feel like myself.
3 - One of my roomates and I went hiking yesterday. Up and over a hill a few minutes from our house you can explore a settlement. A made in stone, ancient ruins settlement. Now there is nothing this old in my country, and if there were, it would be taped off, preserved, and charging admission. Not here - there are SO MANY of these ancient ruins in this country that this one goes unnoticed... it is an entire city... 4 hours there hardly scratched the surface. Amazing...
4 - The computer is still kaiboshed - so much so that it is debatable that is will travel back to North America with me. So this is the still no picture explanation - you just gotta take my word for it.
5 - Have a nice day.

I don't really need it

2008-02-29T11:22:00.000-08:00

Somewhere between India and Cyprus, I lost my flash-drive. I have a distinct memory of packing it into my checked-in luggage. The thought trail was something like "maybe I shouldn't put it here - if this pocket was opened it would be lost easily - nah, that pocket's not going to get opened"; you know, something like that. If it has ended up in Cyprus, it has found a nook or cranny somewhere that would win it a prize in hide-and-go-seek. That flashdrive holds all my backup to 2 years of pictures, presentations, music and documents.
I understood its value this week when my computer completely crashed and I lost everything. Thankfully, about half of my pictures have since been recovered due to the genius and kindness of a computer guru who's a friend of a friend's who spent 3 days with it (and wouldn't take a dime - the kindness of strangers, wow!) Everything else is khallas (my Arabic spelling for the word that means "finished").
So what was my reaction when I thought I'd completely lost 2 years of pictoral, musical, and written memory? - "Oh well, it happens." I'm not telling this story to let you know how laid back I am in annoying situations. What happened was that God drew a parallel for me in other places of my life; all of the times I've lost or been without things and catagorized them in the "doesn't really matter" pile. The problem has been that some of the things really did/do matter.
I'm finding it difficult with words to paint the picture that is so clear in my head, but if there's a point to this post, it's to encourage us all to ascribe value to the things that really matter. And if you've lost or damaged or been without those things, don't just say "oh well". I think we'd all be better off if we always put value in its rightful place - on the important things - and also took it off the things that aren't. I am in Turkey this month chillin' and childcaring, hoping to process the last few months and solidify what those important things are.

It's all relative

2008-02-24T06:51:00.000-08:00

We arrived back in Cyprus Friday morning, and one of my first thoughts was "wow, this traffic is orderly!" But I was here recently enough the first time (5 months ago now) to know that I didn't always feel this way. And the parents of one of our students here helped to remind me by saying how much less organized the traffic is here than Costa Rica. But compared to India, the traffic is tickety-boo.
I have pictures of the Cyprus river valley from the first few weeks I was here, pictures taken to capture what I thought was a mass amount of garbage in a beautiful place. My thoughts yesterday as I walked the same valley? Man, it's clean here... sparkling, even, compared to India. You should see one picture I have of a residential area near the slums we worked in. I learned that the song "don't put your junk in my backyard, my backyard's full" can be literal.
In the last few weeks, I saw the faces of people I had only read about before I was in India. The 6 year old bride. The beggar whose employee amputates his limb so that people give him more money. The many children who have been sold by their parents to live on the street. The 8 year old shopkeeper. I have seen their faces and have had nothing to give them - no language, no communication, no clear concept of hope. But by grace for a few weeks I could walk alongside and help those that offer something real, something more. The need in India is more obvious than anything I've ever seen before in terms of sheer numbers. People there offering hope in any capacity are desperate for help. The harvest may be plentiful... the labourers are very few.
Today I'm back in Cyprus. I haven't blown black boogers out of my nose for over 24 hours; even though it's been 2 days since I've showered, I'm feeling pretty clean; it's been nice to give my sleeping bag a break (and a wash:)); the machine does a much better job getting dirt out of clothes than I do. But I did not suffer in India - I only stood close enough to observe those that do. There is much my mind and heart has left to process because of this experience. Anything I've written here is only the very tip of the iceberg. I don't mean to sound like it was hard - obviously from the examples of the other people in this posting, for me it was not. It's all relative... and from my perspective from what I've seen and experienced I have it pretty good. So enjoy your traffic and your available outdoor garbage cans today - I know I will!

Taking Inventory...

2008-02-14T08:15:00.000-08:00

At the beginning of our 8 weeks away from Cyprus, we bought a first aid kit. And what a first-aid kit it was... sigh... beauty. So MUCH stuff in it. A crazy amount of stuff. The leaders thought I was whack... in their experiences of over 20 combined outreaches they've hardly used a band-aid. And I have to admit that I definitely stocked that kit above and beyond expectations. It's hard to take an EMT and buy a box of band-aids and think you're ready for emergencies, so I got a few extra things... and we've used just about everything! Seriously, it's been bit of a gong show... God has used the illnesses and injuries of our team and those we've been in contact with to challenge me so much. Between a ? dislocated hand, varieties of stomach problems (both vomit and diarrhea like you wouldn't believe), several whack skin ailments, and the world's largest spider bite (final dimensions were from abdomen to knee, and almost the entire circumference of the thigh,... the victim was bedridden for over 2 weeks), my mind has gotten a work out. I was thankful for the reminder from a good friend that God is wisdom and always accessible- especially with a very limited book supply and intermittent internet connection. It's also been great teaching basic community health care and disease to the students here - they are incredible attentive and fun to be with. Hopefully the bizarre ailments are done - the only thing left in our kit are gravol suppositories, malarial treatment, and IV's - any one that would make a good story if we would use them, but thankfully no volunteers yet:) Anyways, it's time for me to header to bed - lots to process are the lessons that come through the mind these days. Wow... that sentence structure sounds a little Yoda to me... really time for bed it is. Ha ha and goodnight.

One of those days...

2008-02-05T03:53:00.000-08:00

I wanted to write about today tomorrow, after it was over. I thought it would make a better story then... you see, it's one of those days. And I'm sure there will be more of a story to tell tomorrow, but with intermittent internet and time constraints, I'm learning to write when I get the chance. (Actually, in the midst of writing this 2 days ago, I lost internet connection and couldn't post until now...)
So, at 7:25 this morning I went outside to get my pants hanging on the washing line. I had hand washed them and was anticipating wearing something clean. But I did not find them that way. In the night, the line broke, piling my clothes on the dirty ground. D-I-R-T-Y - just to be clear. But the icing on this cake was that some animal (I think a cat) which had some type of stomach problem, came and DUMPED runny crap all over my clothes. 2 pairs of pants, 1 pyjama top, and 2 pairs of underpants... The trash is not an option for 2 reasons: 1 - they can be salvaged (right now they are soaking in a strong soap mixture and I'm procrastinating from scrubbing them) and 2 - I don't have other clothes here. But this afternoon I understood the reason why. Talking with some of the girls here, the subject of value came up. What makes a person valuable? Can anything happen to them that makes them lose that value? And then I remembered my clothes. Crapped on and stinky and dirty from their horrible night... not their fault. Some may see them as no longer valuable because of the position they are in to get new clothes. But from my point of view, I can see that they just need to be washed and they will be good as new. They will lose the stains and the stink and the filth given to them. They have not lost their value; they just need to be cleaned. We spend a lifetime looking for people and places to tell us we're great just as we are - that our circumstances and choices haven't devalued us. So friends, if you are feeling crapped on and nasty today because of what has happened to you... it has not affected your worth. And there is One who can make you clean - that's a promise available to everyone.
P.S. today, 2 days later, I'm wearing the nastiest of the dump pants - 100% stain free:)

Random

2008-01-26T00:58:00.000-08:00

Usually I like to write with some sort of theme... not so today. The thoughts in my head as I will try to sum up our time in Goa are random - snippets of ideas and information connected to eachother often only because they are from India.
1 - The little boy with the ankle wound came back, his infection far worse. We prescribed anti-biotics via telling his teacher to tell whoever would pick him up from school to tell his parents how to take them. They are illiterate so I spent time making a sun-up chart to say when he should take them... no good, his family is picture illiterate too (yes, it's a real thing). And when he returned Monday, (infection much better, thank God) his 7 day course was already finished. We spent copious amounts of water and time and rubbing to continue getting dirt out of the wound. The culprit in the end was an embedded peice of glass. I hope he will continue to heal. Even for our team who have the proper means for cleaning - humidity, sand, and filth slow the process considerably.
2 - Men's speedos aren't so bad - when compared to the local men's swimsuits here - straight up ginch... yeah, even tighty whities... I've seen it all (and presume you have too, right Sarah I.?)
3 - I am so thankful for my nation's passport that does not limit me from border crossings; my nation's health care that makes the unbelievable things I see here day to day obsolete; the sanitation system of my country that makes tap water safe to drink, puts pressure into a shower, and gets rid of waste; an education system that makes it impossible for the clerk at my local retail store to be 8 years old.
4 - Don't get me wrong - I am loving India... I haven't experienced enough of it yet to really understand the things here my own nation is missing that are still alive in this place. Every place I've been has taught me something important we have left behind in the West in pursuit of our big dreams. I know the lesson is here, I just haven't seen it yet.
5 - "Any job, anytime, anywhere" is what I think is written on the equipment at my place of employment... it could also be the motto for the bathroom here.
6 - When I first went to Africa over 9 years ago, I prayed that God would grant me not only compassion, but compassion with wisdom. You can't always give to everyone, and not all giving benefits even the recipient. I am still on this journey.
7 - I bought a pink shirt. Not all of you will understand how whack this is, but Meller I know you're smiling:)
OK... that's all. Thanks for sharing in the rabbit trails. Namastee.

Need a presciption... or something?

2008-01-17T00:06:00.000-08:00

I've spent the last few morning in a clinic that services Banaii, a slum area of about 10 000 people. Though I was origonally assigned to visit HIV patients, I was swapped out after the discovery that I am a "nurse". Origonally, I protested this title and tried emphatically to explain the difference (several times). But how do I get introduced? - the "nurse". I am so underqualified for the expectations of this place, yet have the most education and experience in this field at this time. It has been amazing... the first patient had undiagnosed abdominal pain, and without an assessment I was asked to write him a prescription. I have since understood that it is totally expected that I write a prescription for just about every patient. I can put anything from pepto bismol (his) to morphine (I still can't imagine circumstances that would have me write this on a paper and sign it). It is so bizarre to have that authority and expectation. The next stories may not be for everyone, so if you don't like gross, you may want to stop... A little girl came yesterday, about 5 years old, her hands covered with pus sores and blisters and filled with dirt and filth. I'm not sure exactly what she has. I do know there were no gloves available as I took a needle and popped the pustuals, cleaning them as best I could with what was available. Then we bandaged up her hands and told her mother she must apply antibiotic cream and come back tomorrow to have the dressings changed as the infection is spreading. Today they didn't come. The 4 year old boy who came in today cut his inside ankle 5 days ago... today it is open, deep, and the outside tissue is beginning to die. We cleaned and flushed for half an hour but it was still dirty. I cut away the folds of his skin where it was still pushed inside the cut with dirty dull scissors we cleaned with alcohol - no freezing... He just watched and his only tears were when we attempted to pop the large bulge of pus under his skin with a needle. I hope he will return tomorrow so that we can use a scalpel to get rid of the rest. With the dead tissue still attatched, healing will be difficult. There isn't another place for him to go... I have so much to learn. So that's a peice of my day - would love to hear about yours:)

Sensing India

2008-01-12T02:30:00.000-08:00

We have arrrived... India... I am wishing I could post pictures today as my words will fail to convey the small piece of this country I've seen. But pictures can't capture it either - they don't communicate sound or smell, taste or touch, which will be the makers of my memories here. But it is beautiful - showing you the view I will wake up to for the next three weeks alongside the beaches of Goa will make it hard to believe I'm a mercenary. It is glorious, the Arabian Sea which runs into the Indian Ocean is just 1.5 blocks from our guesthouse. And neither are there pictures of the beggars I met today, both hungry, unkempt, and persistant. The one man has no legs, and the other an old woman who was obviously not well - both for whom the few cents they get will never improve their quality of life. It has struck me again today, that for these two scenes God finds the second far more beautiful. And the noise! I guess 1.2 billion people in a nation far smaller than Canada is bound to be noisy everywhere, from the fireworks that exploded right outside our house as I went to bed to the rooster that woke me up this morning (at about 4am though it isn't light out til 7 - anyone have a memory like this:)) This doesn't account for the constant people sounds during the day, the hum of life going on as "normal". Smell... well, there's a lot of them here. I would say overall you may be glad that I can't post smells here - but there are some wonderful ones too - streets lined with spices:) Taste... the food so far has been wonderful (Nealeen, I was thinking about you today as I ate my curry, and you too, Deni, remembering how much you like it:)) But I will mention that the snacks are a little, um, weird. Touch will begin soon; I think I've been posted to assist either in a clinic of miscellaneous ages and ailments, or with work alongside people affected by HIV/AIDS. I expect perhaps that some of what I'll see in the next few weeks will far outdo my own capacity to offer love and hope. Offering "there theres" and "it's okays" for things I don't have to experience seem shallow at best. As people, we often hope and love when circumstance offer us reason... and I don't anticipate seeing a lot of reasons for these vices in these places. The mystery is that even here, they still exist to the eyes that can see. May God grant me these eyes that I can see, and at least words to explain this vision to those who can't yet see themselves - that hope and love (as well faith) are undying candles, no matter what. So I am going to header here now, to experience some of that "what", and as you move on to experience yours, I pray you will find and count your reasons for faith, hope, and love today... no matter what!

Impressions

2008-01-08T13:26:00.000-08:00

First, I will need to apolagize to the visual viewers - my laptop is stowed away in Cyprus and has not accompanied me to Jordan, and therefore can't come to India with me tomorrow. In short, no pictures for the next few weeks - sorry about that! Which is too bad because Jordan is a hauntingly beautiful country - I have never seen topography like this before, either in the city or in the countryside. The capital looks something like out of the movies. Apartment buildings jammed together along the sides of mountains, all one colour and style, flat roofed, dirty beige, and squashed together. Many have shops on the ground floor. Traffic is a river, not a road, and driving means accepting that the lines aren't necessary reference points. The rural area is made up of a thousand shades of brown, but it is breathtaking in its own way. I don't think I've seen a single flower growing wild here. Just me - glad to be a part of this world for a little while. A few of us swam in the dead sea yesterday, and had a mud fight with the stuff that is so expensive to buy in the stores in the rest of the world... and only one real injury (Stuart's eye - he'll be ok) The people are hospitable and friendly, and the amount of food I've eaten in the last few days reflect this:) I've been trying to speak Arabic - the few words I know - and after stepping on the back of a man's shoe on the street I stated "asfar" which means "yellow" instead of "esfa" which really means "sorry". I hope he's laughed about it as much as I have... anyways, so there's the Jordan first impression... Happy new year to each of you in your places of the world - today I am enjoying mine!

Merry Christmas!

2007-12-24T09:11:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas family and friends!

This year I am far away from you, but would just like to give you a quick picture of what Christmas is like around these parts... quite different than the part of the world I'm used to. The last couple of days some of us traveled to the North side of the island, where life and culture is much different. We had a wonderful and adventurous time navigating roads with a map that had every town with a different name than the road signs said, and as you will see, saw the incredible beauty of the Northern Meditteranean. At a roadside market I bought some fruit for our Christmas dinner, and the lady working there said "oh, is it Christmas?" The part of the world I woke up in today had none of the signs my Canada has to announce Christmas - no media, no lights, no crazy shopping centers; no carolers, no Christmas eve church services, no nativities. So I am thankful for my heritage today - my country that at one time recognized God in its constitution, and to this day pays a nation to celebrate His entrance into this world "and His name shall be called Emmanuel, God with us." I am glad that I have never not known that it is Christmas... so to all of you as you celebrate (whether on "the" day or not - or on January 7th for you Orthodox people (not just Ukranians, I've discovered:))) - Merry Christmas! And here's some shots of the last couple of days.

And The Winner Is...

2007-12-21T13:09:00.000-08:00

Congratulations Trevor and Rachel! But nice runner up, Kelly... thanks for playing. Trevor and Rachel, coffee's on me next time we're in the same country!
Answers are:
1 - the rhubarb cost $25CND... I know, outrageous!
2 - It's a preying mantis (I love these bugs:)) - I've heard both that it's called "preying" because its a great hunter, "praying" for its position.
3 - It is a Kiwi fruit, and it grow on a tree.
4 - This is a pomegranate tree.
5 - Greek Orthodox

Come on down!

2007-12-09T11:37:00.000-08:00

Hello sports and game show fans, it's time for some Cypriot trivia time! So strap in and leave your guesses on the comments page. There will be a prize for the winner - whoever comes closest.

Pictures

1 - How much did this rhubarb cost? Hint - the checkout clerk asked me what it was:)

2 - What am I? Why am I called this?

3 - This fruit was growing in the orchard I visited this weekend - what kind of structure does it grow on (tree, vine, shrub, etc.)?

4 - What kind of fruit grows on this tree?

5 - This building was at the monastary we visited. In Cyprus, what faith does it represent?

That's it for now... enjoy the game - and feel free not to answer all the questions if you only want to answer one or two. Have fun!

Big Schmuck

2007-11-24T09:19:00.000-08:00

As a general rule, cats are poorly treated in Cyprus. Maybe it's because they are an epidemic - literally hundreds of cats roam the streets here. The vast majority of them are skinny, diseased, and abused. They do not come to people, they are afraid when people approach because of past experiences, they are not even pleasant to look at. Except Big Schmuck. One girl here, Amber, loves cats. And she found Big Schmuk - a fat, white haired Persian who would let himself be petted, and even let us pick him up. Until one day... one day we went to visit Big Schmuck and he was different. He cowered at our approach, wouldn't let us come near; he was afraid. We knew that something had happened to him, something unkind, something to change the way he viewed people, something bad. It was so sad because we knew the before version of Big Schmuck - he's not just another Cypriot nasty cat - he was our friend. And I got to thinking about people - in one way or another we're all Big Schmucks. Unkind and bad experiences have molded us to be different than we were intended to be. The difference is some are so long ago that no one knows the "before" versions of us; sometimes not even ourselves. So I got to talking to God about it, and reflected on some of the places I've been hurt in my life that I've let shape who I am. The not for the better kind of shaping - the hardening, the wariness, the defenses. So as I thought about how I would be without all of these walls, I said to God "Wow... I was supposed to be amazing." He answered me about all peoples everywhere "Yeah, you all were." Our wounds and deep hurts and subsuquent defences were not His idea. They are the result of fallible hurt people redoing what has done unto them. They are the result of sin. We are not only the victims but the perpetraitors. Often not intentionally - I believe the majority of people do the best they can with what they have, we are all wounded and unable sometimes. We have all hurt one another when we've been in these places. The great news of the message of Jesus is restoration. No matter where you are or what brought you there, He wants you back. We don't have to live there forever. Here I am learning about recognizing wounds, forgiveness, and freedom... hope to learn. I want to love better than I do in the season and not just after it's done. I wish with hope the same for all of you. We can't escape being broken sometimes... the good news is that there is a Healer. For all peoples everywhere - yes - you too.

Pics this week are from last weekend's trip to Larnaca - we ate Mez-ay (? for spelling) which means a whole whack of food; couscous, beans, lamb, beef, pork, chicken, salad, fried cheese, yogurt, etc. etc. Then we did Meze ice cream for dessert - getting ourselves fattened up for India:)

Forbidden fruit etc...

2007-11-11T06:47:00.000-08:00

Right now I'm sitting in the kitchen, just finishing the topping for a happy birthday cheesecake. Freshly picked mandarine oranges from a tree just down the street. In fact, I've been picking oranges from this tree all week - they've been amazing. And to be honest, simmering with a little cinnamon, allspice, and brown sugar, they smell pretty good too. Well, they're forbidden oranges... I found out today that the tree I've raided all week belongs to someone. Without knowing it, I've stolen them. It's not that I didn't wonder about the tree - it's a beauty and heavy laden, and I marvelled that it would be in this alley. But mid-pick today the owner returned to his house (the house this alley is beside) and was understandably upset. "It's ok," he said "but you should have asked." And the truth is, if I'd have stopped to think about this well taken care of tree in an alley...adjacent to a house...I would have suspected it belonged to someone. This was the second bust of the week... the first was Thursday night when a local missionary let our small group (6 of us) come to his house to play games. Well, one of those games ended up being Mennonite Madness (many of you are smiling from our good mems and understanding, aren't cha?:)) leading the neighbours to believe that someone was being assaulted, which led to the police arriving to see what the matter was. Our friend arrived home at the same time and had to explain that it was just a bunch of psycho foreigners screaming bloody murder trying to get the pen. Sigh... do you know what has annoyed me more than anything this last week? Inconsiderate people... everyone's epidemic in close quarter living. Do you know what got me busted twice this week? Being inconsiderate. Both times I was just enjoying life and never stopped to ask or consider the literal neighbours. Yikes... how many times have I been selfishishly unaware and not gotten busted? (I'm sure some of you are tempted to take this opportunity, eh?:))Oh, and here are some pics from our last weekend trip to Paphos - the first time I've ever been to a biblical city. And I know the pics don't reflect it - but 5 days a week really are intense:) Oh - and a very happy birthday to you, Lynn! I love you very much!

Feels like summer, looks like fall

2007-11-02T12:23:00.000-07:00

This last weekend, 6 of us headed to Troodos to do a little hiking... it really was beautiful. We spent Saturday on a couple of different trails (and one crazy off-roading experience through a terraced grape, nectarine, apple orchard- despite the pic I'm posting, I wasn't the driver for this one:)) We went to the top of Mt. Olympous which was a really funny tourist experience - a major tourist site - the highest point in Cyprus- surrounded by military bases, so you can't really take pictures of the view - but it's amazing! We slept under the stars that night, roasted marshmallows, and ate copious amounts of nuts from a multitude of vendors. It was here amidst people who a month ago were strangers that I was remided of... me. I love this kind of stuff - trekking, camping out, wearing a toque to bed, eating nuts for breakfast. In every country and place, with whoever - this is me. I love the little tidbits of life that remind us who we are - whether it's to break up the mundane of normality or provide connection in a world that is totally unfamiliar. It was wonderful refreshing weekend... enjoy the pics. A fall scene, the Canadian girls, the 6 of us, and scenes from the hike - the mediterrainian sea in the background of the mountain shot:) Finally got an internet connection that lasted long enough to post pics - YAY!

I got my second real six string...

2007-10-23T06:31:00.000-07:00

Something on my to do list in Cyprus is learning to play the guitar. It has been a desire of mine for years... I bought my first one 6 years ago, but had to sell it to buy a stethascope when I went to school. That was a different time and different place ago. So just before moving here, I bought another one (a seagull acoustic with a hard shell case and a funky green strap:)) and let myself dream again that I would someday know how to play. It is good to be getting started - I have a long way to go. But because of this, something happened that I didn't anticipate. This morning, I was listening to a favourite song of mine (Give, by 3rd day...) Now, I'm a huge lyrics person, and for all the times I've listened to the song, they have stood out to me. But this morning, I heard something new. I heard the guitar. It was beautiful, and I couldn't believe I'd never noticed before. So I started to listen and try to pick out other things - all the instruments that make up this amazing song. And it reminded me of class last week - talking about relationships with people... how we are called to unity if we are part of God's body. To translate that Christianese statement - God made each of us different, but by being who we are and using our gifts and talents and appreciating one another, this is unity. One purpose, one goal - yes - but not made out of cookie cutter people. So do you feel different today? Misunderstood? Like you don't fit in completely? Awesome... can I encourage you to keep playing your part of the song? It's time to face the music - you're not who you want to be. But truth is that the real you is something far better... you have a place in this world and every other part playing needs you too. So get in tune if you have to, just don't stop playing. Oh, and here are some more Cyprus pics for you visual people out there:)

A Snapshot of Cyprus

2007-10-22T06:32:00.001-07:00

Ok - pictures are worth 1000 words, right? So here is a 5000 word post:)

It's all Greek to me...

2007-10-13T07:59:00.000-07:00

This posting is both literal and figurative. The official language of Cyprus is Greek – and unlike other countries I’ve visited, there is sometimes precious little English to decipher it. The internet’s wisdom has also translated many of my weblog headings into Greek as well, making surfing a little tricky. And – the Greek word for yes sounds like “nah”, and no sounds like “O.K.”, which has led to some confusing conversations. So literally, Cyprus is Greek to me.
Figuratively, you know you’re in Cyprus when:
- All your prior knowledge of how to cross the street is null and void… driving is on the left, and the rules and signs are not the same. It also complicates matters when you have representatives from several countries trying to cross the street with you, each trying to use their own how-to principles.
- You can eat figs, pomegranates, and olives directly from the trees. Oh - and citrus fruits galore… Jasmine fragrances the air in the early morning and evening, and hibiscus type flowers are everywhere.
- There are kebab stands and independent produce sellers all over the place – and it’s totally ok to sample fruit from the markets and stands without buying anything.
- The government buildings are only open for service 3 hours a day (including banks)… maybe the same in my country, but here no one thinks it’s weird.
- And perhaps particularly in my class, you find yourself as the only native English speaker, and one of the very few that can speak and write in only one language. I admire the non-North American world so much for this, and am hoping to change my own statistic… After Arabic, maybe French… or Spanish?
- Speaking of Arabic, they have some very common words that sound like English words you would get your mouth washed out with soap for saying… we laughed very hard in Arabic class yesterday:)
So that’s a wrap for now. I could go on but am going to header here today. Thanks for keeping up with my life here; I’d love to hear about yours!

I could have done without the drama...

2007-10-08T05:57:00.000-07:00

There is a cost part to missions, everyone knows that. I knew that to come to Cyprus, this account would be charged to my family, friends, job, income, car, home, and cat. A couple of weeks ago, I distinctly remember saying to God (in a casual conversation sort of way) that I didn’t need any drama this time when I left the country – my dance card was full. My desire didn’t include a flooded bathroom, declawing the cat, renters changing their minds, or my house insurance getting canceled at 13:00 the day before I left. It also left out the part about Edmonton check-in telling me I would need a visa for Cyprus and refusing to check me any further than Frankfurt (the situation was remedied at the same time my final boarding call went out. I was still at the front kiosk). But that was last week... there are still ends to tie up back in that other world, and I wish I could have left everything tidy and in check, no loose ends. Even so, I knew I had to go. Even if the ends never tie there, I am to be here now. God has work to do in each of the 8 students and 6 staff I will share the next 5 months with. What we have each left behind was necessary because we were called to come here now. One student in my class has come at a great risk - and will not be able to return to their country when this course ends for literally a fear of death. When I return, everything (no matter what state it's in) will be returned to me. Not so for my new friend. Their home and family and car and pet and job left behind cannot anticipate their return. So for those of you missing me today from across the miles, think of my new friends' family and friends who are joyful for their loved one's departure - for it brings them safety and hope, and be thankful for all that we have simply because of the nation of our birth. So I could've done without the drama last week... but my perspective is a little different this week. Thank you to my new friend for coming here even though it cost you dearly - I only had to put on loan for a while.

A waitress named linda

2007-10-08T05:40:00.000-07:00

A little insight to the title of this blog... it's in remembrance of one of my childhood dreams. I had received a tea set as a gift and was playing with it in the basement of our home, and enjoying the set, I thought the greatest thing in the world would to grow up to be a waitress. And probably since I had 2 cousins with the name, I wished my name was Linda. Well, so far neither of these dreams have come true:) Not that there is anything wrong either with waiting on others (and I'd have been horrible at it), or being named Linda (which I've since learned means beautiful), God had other plans for me. He has given me my own name (which means helper and defender of mankind, and to delight) and my own calling - my greatest vocational desire is to bloom where I'm planted, in whatever place and country that may be. So I am resigned that I will never actually be a waitress named Linda but am waking up to the fact that there is so much more than I could ever imagine that will fill up the days of my life. So may you know today that there is a God who above all you can ask or imagine wants you just as you are in this moment. His love for you is more than you can imagine, and is in fact, the stuff dreams are made of. And I hope this blog will show an honest journey of someone who is seeking to love this God with all her heart, soul and strength... and her neighbour as herself.