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.
Wednesday, 11 August 2010
Friday, 6 August 2010
In Transition
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.
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.
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
Things that rhyme
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.
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.
Tuesday, 6 July 2010
Off the beaten track
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!
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!
Friday, 25 June 2010
Hunger
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 :)
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 :)
Thursday, 17 June 2010
The Routine
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...
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...
Monday, 7 June 2010
Reasons to be Thankful
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 :)
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 :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
