Natural habitats

So, the camping trip to Sterkfontein Dam went really well. I had an awesome time!!! I definitely needed to get away and spend some time in God's creation, doing nothing but breathing and enjoying (too much) sunshine. We spent six days there, enjoying the location and each other's company. I can't wait until we get the chance to go again ... but next time I'm investing in a warmer sleeping bag and a wetsuit so that I can comfortably take advantage of all the dam has to offer!


It was hard to believe that the area where we were staying was still in South Africa. To date, my view of South Africa has been tall buildings, dirty streets, strange people, shopping malls, poverty and overcrowding. This place was almost empty, with beautiful water, nice people (for the most part), family-oriented, uncluttered and had nice facilities. For a while there, I felt like I was back in Denver. All that was missing was my normal crew that I went hiking and camping with. But, what an opportunity to create new memories with a new group of people!


The first night we arrived a bit late, set up camp and started working on dinner. After dinner, Darryl (our guide with all the toys on this excursion) decided he wanted to go for a late night swim. So, he stripped down to his undies and went out into the water. Yeah, I was shocked ... no warning whatsoever, just Darryl in all is glory heading out into the water under the moonlight. It made for a good laugh, and basically set the tone for the week in what became known as his "natural habitat". We would soon see more of Darryl in his element on this trip.

For the next few days there was much activity on the water. Darryl brought his catamaran and his wind surfer, so we all got to try out both. Such fun!
There was also a day hike into the Drakensburgs to the base of Gudu Falls ... amazing! I was already having a bit of trouble regulating my body temperature, so I decided not to jump into the freezing cold water. That didn't stop some of the others who followed Darryl's example and stripped down to their undies and took a dip in the water before the hike down. Gotta love crazy people!

I also read Cry the Beloved Country one of the days when it was a bit too cold for me to be in the water. What an amazing book. It gave me a better look into the humanity that I sometimes look at with a bit of disdain here. For me, it brought more of a human element into both sides of the struggle I sense as a part of living in this crazy country ... decisions that were made that determined the direction of the country, personal decisions made in regards to how to cope with what's been dealt to you, and the destruction of a people for the sake of "living". It made me sad and hopeful all at the same time. I was glad that Thom suggested I read it.

Speaking of this crazy country, we were talking about the difference when camping in the States vs. here. Back home, you talk to your neighbors and find out where they're from, how long they're staying, etc. When we arrived, people pretty much looked at us, but no one said anything. In this largely Afrikaaner area, I was happy when they responded when I would say "Good morning". (I find that the racism and prejudice that still exists here affects me more than I like ... a topic for another day).

The very next day, a guy from one of the other campsites came over and started asking where we were from, what brought us here, etc. Basically, all the normal questions that come up when people hear that our group is made up of volunteers from South Africa, the States, Canada, Brazil, Australia, and Malaysia. What I didn't expect was for this crazy man to end our conversation telling me that America was responsible for Apartheid, because there's no way that South Africans could come up with something like that ... they're too open and nice. What?!?!? Yeah, I was glad Nil was sitting there because I've been pretty full up of people freely sharing about their dislike of my country, our politics, our President, our materialism, our lack of global & environmental awareness, our this and our that. I had to remember that I was a Christian missionary.

Ah, natural habitiats. It's amazing what people feel at liberty to do and say when they're there.

Just breathe ...

When I think about all the things floating around in my head - all the thoughts, positive and negative that come into my mind - I'm amazed that I'm not insane. I mean, literally, my thoughts bounce back and forth between good and evil, uplifting and destroying, giving life and bringing death. If there were a way that my thoughts could be broadcast without my control, I would be scared to think anything at all.

I was reading some of the commentaries on the coverage of the Colorado shootings the other day, and I was really saddened by the fact that people turned this event around to point the blame - at Matthew's parents for raising him wrong, at the Christians who only embrace the "beautiful people" and didn't do enough to embrace this kid, at the laws that allowed him to legally amass a small arsenal, at the webmasters on the anti-Christian websites who allowed him to freely post his rhetoric ... five people are dead in a senseless killing that was done by a guy who allowed the lies of the enemy to dictate his actions. Why are we pointing fingers?

If I were to act on every thought that came through my mind, I would be considered an extroverted, introverted, angry, elated, courageous, fearful, touchy, reclusive, intelligent, dense, schizo. The responsibility we all have is to choose ... we choose life or death, we choose to dwell on the good or the bad, we choose to love or hate. Matthew made his choice. Now it's our turn.

YWAM Denver

If you ask just about anyone who has been through YWAM Denver what they're feeling right now, "shock", "numb", "anger", "disbelief", and "hurt" are all words that would come up. Not the normal response you would get from a bunch of missionaries, but in light of Sunday morning's shootings, it seems reasonable.

If you've been there, you know that we consider each other family. Not the type that you call on holidays and visit every few years out of obligation ... the kind who visits each other's house at any time of year just because you can, who show up when a baby is born and will call if they think you might be struggling with something. The kind that drop a line periodically just to say "Hi" and who you can laugh with over shared experiences in spite of being thousands of miles away.

I didn't know Tiffany or Phil ... they came after my time in Denver was officially over. I'd met Dan on mobile team and followed Nick's leading to poke at him hard to do a DTS in Denver. I didn't really know Chuck ... only met him a couple times when visiting friends before leaving for Africa.

But I do know many of the people who are on staff that are struggling through the loss of peace and the sense of being in a "safe place" on the YWAM Denver campus. I know the leadership there well, and I can tell you that to them, they've lost a son and daughter at the hands of one of their own.

At this point, I'm not sure that I knew Matt (the shooter). His name sounds really familiar to me, but I can't figure out if he is the person I'm picturing in my mind. I really hope he's not. I can't imagine the torment that must have been going on in his head and heart to bring him to the place of thinking of hurting as many people as he wanted to. Reports say that he was asked to leave staff in Denver in 2002 (the year I did my DTS) and sent antagonistic correspondence to the base after that. If I think with the mind of someone who has a warped sense of understanding, I can understand his targeting YWAM ... I don't understand his loading up on ammo and walking into New Life Church.

There is no guarantee that as we serve God and trust Him in this life, that we will be safe, protected from harm and have life easy. There is still evil at work in this world. People still have free will. The enemy still lies, and we choose to believe him.

In the end, I hold on to the scripture that many from our base have been clinging to and sharing - a verse that we clung to when Elly died in 2004 - "We are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who believe and are saved." (Hebrews 10:39)

God is good, even in the midst of loss and turmoil.

I'm praying for you, my YWAM family - prayers for peace, joy in the midst of pain, that the Lord would be your comforter, that your love for one another would see you through, and that the world would see and hear and put their trust in Him because of your example.

murky waters

I find myself in a funk that I’m not sure how to get out of. Part of it is contemplating being away from home for the holidays and celebrating what is one of my favorite family holidays away from everything familiar. Part of it is confusion in regards to what on earth God is up to in my life.

He continues to speak to me about His dreams for my life. The more I think about what He's spoken, the more I feel myself struggle. Some of the things He's spoken seem so contrary to the way He's made me. Some of the things I'm waiting on seem so far away, yet there's nothing I can do about it. Helpless. That's what I feel right now. Vulnerable. And a bit lost.

On top of the inner struggle is the fact that I'm facing change once again. It's never easy, but I don't feel as though I've fully adapted and overcome the last change. My heart is full, and not all of it is good.

So, I struggle silently. Everyone's busy, living their own lives. I'm tired of struggling, tired of talking. I'm not sure that I can articulate all that's in my heart at the moment. So, I continue to stuff it, in the hopes that God will work to bring about some resolution ... and if not, that He will bring some measure of peace in the midst of these murky waters I find myself in.

Man, I feel like a woman!

Sorry, it was the first thing to pop into my head as I thought about writing.

This morning, I said goodbye to a team of 9 Brazilians from the Vila do Louvor base in Sao Paolo. I really enjoyed my time with them - laughing, eating, shopping and just hanging out.

I also really enjoyed the conversations I had with some of the team members. Being around the girls made me feel like it was okay to be feminine - not like I needed to be this hard-faced creature that walked the streets, having to protect myself. Being around the guys made me feel safe and protected, and they called out the beauty that I don't always notice is within me.

I love every chance I get to hang out with Latin American guys ... it reinforces my love for their culture and beauty. In my opinion, they seem more prone to find a woman that looks like me beautiful. They also are (in general) one of the few who (because of their cultural norms) can touch, hug, embrace and speak life to the untouched places of my heart without me feeling dirty.

Interacting with these guys was so different from the interactions I've had with the African men here in SA. They reminded me that there are guys out there whose attention I would actually want. It's tough to explain my objections to the men here to people who haven't known anything else, to whom the things that irritate me are normal. When I say there's a difference, most people who haven't lived it can't see it.

I was glad to have the interaction with them that I've had these last few weeks ... it reminded me that I am a woman, and that it's okay for a man to see me as one.

I feel so old ...

Youth With A Mission. Just the name lets you know that the organization is geared towards young people. The average person working with YWAM is between the age of 18 and 25. I’m 31. I feel so old right now.

Okay, so part of what brought this on is that we have a team from Brazil in, working with us at the base. They’re typically young, and typically Brazilian. Having lived in a void where good looking men are concerned, I’ll admit – it’s been a bit hard to focus at times. I mean, they are some good looking guys, with great personalities, fun, charming, respectful and protective of their women, hospitable, etc. And these are all qualities that I’ve missed over the last 8 months, living amongst men who grate against my personality and preferences.

So, I was hanging out with one of them at the mall the other day. I’m not sure how it came up, but he asked me how old I was. I said (in Spanish, because he doesn’t speak English, and I don’t speak Portuguese … we meet somewhere in the middle with what’s called “Portuñol”) that I was 31. Then it hit me that I should probably ask how old he was. 23. All of a sudden, I felt really old and like I shouldn’t be walking in the mall alone with this kid. He is, after all, the same age as my nephew and more attentive than I'm used to.

Another one (who I’m sure is also in his early 20s) told me that I look like his girlfriend back home … which means that in Brazil, guys that look and behave like him are interested in girls that look like me. Why am I in Africa?

Where are the good looking, great personality possessing, fun, charming, respectful, protective, hospitable men closer to my age? Why am I constantly finding myself “attracted” to boys? And … why am I in Africa???

I know that I’m being a "girl" … but I’m really trying to get my head around what I’m supposed to glean from this whole experience. I’m still not sure. I know that God is big and that He can orchestrate anything, and that there are men my age out there who are after His heart. I think I’m just finding it hard to die to self lately, and my view of myself took a little blow with the realization that I’m getting old, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Frustrating studies

I'm reading this book put together by two professors at Wits University on the progression of the HIV/AIDS epidemic in South Africa. Let's just say that the more I read, the more ticked I become.

In the first chapters they attempt to touch on the cultural norms and beliefs that are contributing to the continued progression of the virus in the nation. In the section "Being A Man in South Africa", a few excerpts that pushed my buttons in particular inlclude:

● The global AIDS epidemic is driven my men. (24)

● It's normal and culturally acceptable/expected for men to have multiple partners (as a means to prove their manhood or out of insatiable need to "drain something from their body" through the sex act with whoever's available, but they may "rect violently towards women who are nor monogomous. A study conducted across several regions in South Africa fount that 'boys believe that a way to sort a girl with several other sexual partners is to force sex or "beat her" ... a girl who refuses [sex] and is believed to have another boyfriend will be beaten because 'you cannot let her get away with it, she is using you and making you a fool." Another way of sorting her out is to organize a "steam-line", commonly know as gang rape at the boyfriends home as a means of punishment. (27)

● A contemporary study of youth in the Western Cape found that men believed that they could not survive physically or psychologically for an extended period without sex – a man needed a back-up if his regular partner was not available. One young boy said, “Hey man, where is this thing called AIDS, we should try to avoid this thing.” But others said, “No man, if AIDS means to stop you from having many partners then I will just contract it – you see.’ (28)

● A young boy is quoted as saying this - "'When they are going to make sex?', he asked, he said, 'Can we make sex?' ... but she said, 'no' ... the way I think, maybe he asked her again, maybe she replied and they just made sex ... she didn't scream or do anything ... or tell him she doesn't want it ... to her, no is yes." (30)

● Young men and women believe that a man has a right, even a duty, to force himself on a woman who displays reluctance and shyness. (32)

● Respondents in a study of teenage masculinity did not see that forcing a girl to have sex was rape. Rape is an attack by a stranger. Drama and role-plays indicated that the boys did not recognise that saying 'no' was an option for girls - they believed that girls should not have any say in the matter. They used biology (the male sexual urge) to justify men having sex on demand. (32)

And you wonder why I'm not interested in the men here and am content to be single for the duration unless another foreigner passes through that captures my attention?

I haven't made it to the "Being A Woman in South Africa" section yet because I have to frequently put the book down. I'm not sure that reading this type of material for a basic understanding of the average South African mindset in regards to HIV/AIDS is a good thing ... it really is bringing me to a place of knowing that I will NEVER be able to identify with where people here are coming from. To be honest, I don't want to. It makes me mad that they've been handed a bag of lies that is killing them off one by one, but they choose to hold onto it and pass it down to future generations in the name of preserving their "culture". I'm once again reminded that but for the grace of God ... there really is no point in my being here.

Next ...

Am I the only one who wakes up in the morning, makes it halfway through the morning, only to think, “Maybe I should go home and try to start this day over again tomorrow.”

I’ve been in a funk lately. It probably has to do with the things I’ve been thinking about, the busyness that is my life, and the waiting that I find myself in the midst of once again. I find myself wondering if there’s something I need to be doing so that my approach to the upcoming changes is somewhat proactive. Then I remember that my hands are tied in so many ways here.

I must continue to wait on Him, and do the possible. The rest is up to Him.

Faithful

“Being single reminds me that my good efforts only go so far, that I desperately need God’s grace, and that He’s faithful in plenty and want.”

I came across this while browsing through an article by Camerin Courtney on Christianity Today’s website. It challenged me, because in the past I’ve doubted God’s faithfulness in so many areas, mostly because I didn’t get the things I thought I wanted or needed. I’ve since come to realize that His faithfulness has nothing to do with my circumstances or His provision. It’s His character … either He is faithful or He isn’t.

I’ve seen the faithfulness of God in so many areas of my life in recent years, in big ways and little. One of the big things I’m still waiting on Him for is a mate to share my life with. While waiting, I’ve been so blessed by the examples I’ve been able to see, with the companionship He’s provided, and the perspective that waiting has given me. He’s blessed me in that I can do works that glorify Him and fulfill the desires of my heart.

On top of this, He’s been faithful to point out where I tend to become hardened to the possibilities that are in front of me, and when I start to embrace my own self-sufficiency. He’s faithful to place people in my life who will encourage me with the fact that I am loveable, capable of giving and receiving love, and there’s nothing wrong with me. He’s faithful to provide friends who teach me what it means to really love. He’s faithful to make me work through my relationship junk – showing me how to walk in humility when I’ve had clashes with people that were based on strange circumstances or miscommunication and had to make amends. He’s faithful to stretch me so that I can see beyond myself into the lives and situations of others. He’s faithful to remind me that He has plans and purposes for my marriage. He’s faithful to remind me that I’m not forgotten.

He’s faithful.

Chubbs

On a lighter note ...

I think I need to lay off the sweets and snack foods ... and maybe Esther’s cooking.

Since taking my de-worming and parasite medications, I’ve gained 3 kilos (roughly 7 pounds). I’m still at a healthy weight, but Summer’s approaching … which means I should be heading to the pool and am possibly spending part of the Christmas holidays at the beach.

Not only that … I got used to my clothes fitting a certain way, and now that I’ve killed Humberto (my worm), they don’t anymore. So, I’m back to the old dilemma of whether or not I sacrifice my hair (which is sensitive to the chlorine in swimming pools) or embrace the slight chubbiness that has crept up on me in the last few weeks.

I was commenting on this at the Centre the other day, and mentioned that I should probably do something about it since it was making me uncomfortable in my skin. One of the people I work with mentioned that, since I wasn’t married and I was “picky”, I should probably take some action.

I know that this comment was meant to goad me, but it irritates me that people assume that the reason I’m still single is because I’m picky. I’d rather wait on God’s best and hang on to my preferences in men than be frustrated by the man I settled for … does that make me picky? I dunno … that’s just how I am. I’m not one to settle, no matter how long something takes. Once I make my mind up, I’m not likely to change it unless God changes it for me.

God’s challenged me to dream big in the area of marriage … I’ve seen some pretty great examples in my 31 years, and I’m not willing to settle for anything less. On top of this, I really believe that my marriage is to glorify God and minister to those who I am in relationship with. To me, you can’t just settle for any old bloke that crosses your path and winks at you.

On top of this, the men here are pretty interesting. I’ve mentioned it before … African men are not my idea of “Mr. Perfect for Me”. It only takes one or two perverted leers or “Sorry? I love you. You are beautiful and you have nice hair ... will you marry me?” comments to confirm that there’s not good chemistry there. So, I’m content to continue to wait on God. I think He’s big enough to surprise me, even on this crazy continent … even if I have put on a few kilos.

Am I ready for this?

I’m reading this book by Joy and Ray Thomas called I’m Not at Risk, Am I? that is about AIDS and its affects. As I’m reading this chapter o n AIDS orphans, I find myself asking once again, “God, what were you thinking when you asked me to come here to do this? I’m nowhere near qualified, and I don’t have a long history of loving kids.”

In the chapter they talk about the emotional affects of AIDS-related deaths on children, and the growing phenomenon of child head of households and street kids as a result of AIDS. One of the things they capture is the feelings of guilt (if I’d taken better care of my sick mommy, then maybe she wouldn’t have died) and the tendency to internalize grief that children have when faced with extreme trauma and are not part of the dying process.

It was like God removed a scab that wasn’t quite healed. I remember like it was yesterday, feeling these things and knowing that no one understood what I was going through … and feeling like no one cared. When Wendy (my oldest sister) died in 1990 from cancer-related illnesses, I thought it was my fault. She was in my care at the time that the ambulance was called that took her away. I seriously thought that the doctors would give her medicine and she was coming back, just like she had so many times before. No one prepared me for the fact that this was the end, and she wouldn’t be coming back. I think everyone but my other sister (who is a medical doctor and had more of a clue than the rest of us) thought she was coming back as well. I never got to say goodbye. This has been a sore spot for me for years.

I’ve had issues with abandonment … anger at God for taking the one person I thought understood me … I lived for a long time with depression hanging over my head like a cloud … I thought for a long time that God took the wrong child. I still struggle to believe that people truly understand me, and if I were honest I’d say that deep down, part of me is waiting for the people I love to die. I know that dying is a part of living, and now my battle is to trust God in the living part.

I don’t believe that God took her so that I would be able to minister to orphans. I’m amazed that He’s putting me in this situation and find myself wondering if this season is as much for me as it is for the children He’s asking me to work with. He’s challenging me to see myself in these children I will be ministering to next year, and help them walk to healing in Him instead of living for years in the darkness that I lived. Their situation is much more dire … I still had my family to take care of me, even if they didn’t fully understand me. Many of these children are already on the streets, or being bounced around a crazy foster care system … some are prostituting themselves in order to survive and placing themselves at risk of the same disease that stole their childhood.

My goal is to love on these children and give them a safe place to be kids … a place where they can grow up to be everything that they desire to be. It’s to share with them the hope and future that they can have in Christ. I want to be a part of God giving them back their childhood. I just pray that God unlocks this in me as well, because I can still see myself as that little girl crying in a corner of the bathroom by herself, unsure what to do with the overwhelming sense of loss that’s hit like a ton of bricks.

Love

Today in church Pastor Iain talked about his relationship with the Lord and how excited he was about it. He likened it to the ongoing romance he has with his wife of 16 years. I found myself wondering what happened to that part of my relationship with God.

I remember when I thought of Him as my Lover, rather than just my Daddy, Provider and Protection. I remember when my thoughts and prayers were about more than understanding these people He’s called me to for a season and how I was to truly live in the midst of foreignness. I remember jumping in my car and going off to spend time with Him on mountaintops; sitting in a park, chatting with Him about things; feeling His presence all around me in a worship service or on the wind.

What happened to those times?

Moreso than it being an issue of safety and inability to get around to places that bring about these experiences, I’ve become consumed with issues … issues of life in SA, issues of inner city ministry, issues of the future and where I’m headed, issues of the turmoil in my own heart and mind.

I want be in that place, once again, where I sense His presence and His affection for me. It looks like it’s time to rekindle the fire that was my love-relationship with Jesus.

A Global Economy

Living overseas definitely changes your perspective of the value of the U.S. Dollar. Recently there’s been a lot of press given to how bad the Dollar is doing … had I been stateside, I wouldn’t have paid much attention to it. Living in South Africa, I pay attention to what the Dollar is doing … especially since I’m trying to buy a car.

There are so many things that influence the global economy … the war in Irag, oil prices and supply, interest rates, consumer spending, the Fed, the economic/business cycle … the list goes on and on. So many things I have no control over, yet they affect my life.

It’s so interesting how your perspective changes with a change of location. Good thing God is still in control.

Life in the New South Africa

One of the pastors at church was carjacked this week. My guess is that he drives a mid-size sedan of some sort. He talked about being especially glad to be in the service this morning, because having a gun pointed at your temple during the week gives greater meaning to being in the house of God on Sunday to give thanks.

I’m constantly amazed at the lack of respect for human life and personal property that I see and read about here. It’s a common fact of life here that you could be held at knife or gunpoint for your cell phone or watch. It’s not unheard of that someone is shot or stabbed for their cell phone or the 20 Rand note (about $3) that may be in their pocket.

What has brought the people in this country to this point? And, why doesn’t the government feel the need to do something about the lawlessness that abounds here? Why don’t the people who are tired of living in fear and intimidation rise up to say “enough is enough”? Maybe they’re too tired from fighting Apartheid and racism or too comfortable in their little corner of the “New South Africa”.

I have a sneaky suspicion that many in the general population feel that there’s nothing they can do ... especially the women. The culture here dictates that men are the leaders, to be followed no matter where they lead … even if they lead to destruction. Women aren’t even at the place of beginning to claim their “rights” as individuals, even though they are largely the backbone of this society that keep families together and provided for. They’re just trying to make it one day at a time in spite of the odds they face.

There are so many things about this continent that make no sense to me.

Even in the midst of the craziness, God continues to break my heart for this nation and its people. There are so many people that are innocent bystanders … especially the children who are growing up seeing a warped life modeled to them. I’m glad that I get to be a small part of God’s light into their darkness.

God has said that He is my protector, and I trust Him. I pray that I am not faced with this level of craziness, because I’m not sure what my response will be.

The brigher side ...

Last night we went into Melville, which is the trendy, “artsy-fartsy” part of Joburg. It felt like I was back in Denver again! We ate at this restaurant called Soulsa, which is a fusion place with lots of organic products and good meats on the menu (like ostrich and springbok).

It was good to be on another side of town, sitting with another kind of people. We were able to walk down the street late at night and not be bothered. I felt completely safe, even with the drunk people walking around after too many cocktails.

I’m glad to see there’s a life outside of the inner city.

I cried for South Africa today ...

I cried for South Africa today.

I haven’t done that before … not even for the orphans of South America.

I was sitting in church, listening to one of the pastors recap his time in France with the National Rugby team that won the Rugby World Cup last night. He serves as the unofficial chaplain of the team, and was telling of the great things God has done in the lives of these men, drawing them closer to Him and transforming their personal lives.

The win has great meaning for this country, as the team will undergo a lot of changes in the coming years in response to demands by political leaders to make the team more of a representation of the nation, which is over 85% black African. As the managers and coaches fall under the pressure of affirmative action, there is little hope that in the short-run, South Africa will make it to the finals again in the next World Cup.

But, that’s not what he talked about that brought me to tears. He talked about the fact that this win had greater meaning in the kingdom, and that we as believers should be praying hard for this nation. To the women, he said, “The men of this nation need God. They also need your prayers. The most unsafe place for a woman in this nation is in her own home. Women suffer violence and abuse against them in the place that should the safest place, most often at the hands of men that they know and trust. Men are much more likely to start wars, commit crimes, abuse, and kill than women. God has a plan for the men in this nation, and we need to pray that they would rise up and plunge themselves beneath the Lordship of Jesus Christ.” He went on to talk about the Springboks as national icons, and that God had moved among them for this moment in time, that they might give glory to Him and issue the challenge to the men of this nation to rise up and follow.

For months, I’ve been struggling with the idea that the men in this nation will be the ones to destroy it, but for God. Many of the women I’ve met and talked with feel they have no right to challenge the men in their lives, and live under the dominion of men who do not have their best interest at heart. I think in that instance, I felt the heart of God, aching for His sons who would not turn to Him, but instead seek their own will and desires.

So, I cried. I prayed that God would continue to call His sons back to Him, and that they would hear and lay down their pride, culture, sin, hatred, and own agendas in order to fall under His Lordship. I prayed that they would love their wives and children, rather than their own flesh. I prayed that I would have compassion when one of these men did something to irritate me, and instead would turn the situation around to encourage them in their need to seek Him.

It’s cool to know that God is still in the business of everyday miracles.

Home

I finally made the decision yesterday that I am really going to live in South Africa.

It dawned on me that I still “lived” in America, even though I’ve spent the past 8 months in South Africa. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve said, “When I get back to the States I’ll get this or that”.

Yesterday, I was at a mall on the other side of town and one of my friends was looking for a 2008 daily planner. I said that I was going to wait and get my calendar from back home because there’s one I like that goes on sale just after the first of the year. My friend asked me how I was going to get it, since I wasn’t going home until May. If I waited until then, the year would be half over.

I’ve done this with so many things … clothing items (like socks and tees), hair products, and even (in spite of the frequent monsoon like rainstorms we get here) buying an umbrella.

Part of my reasoning is that things are cheaper in the U.S. Sometimes when I’m in a store and I look at the prices of things, I just start laughing out loud, not caring about the strange glances I get from the other people shopping. There is a 100% markup on certain imports in South Africa … it oftentimes makes me wonder how people here live and buy things.

The other reason is that there are just some things whose quality I can’t find here (like the Aveda deep conditioner I use when I swim to keep my hair from breaking). I sometimes feel like the snobby American when I talk about some of these things, but deep down, I’m not trying to be mean. I just know it’s true.

Living this way really lets me know that I’m living with one foot in America, and one here in South Africa. No wonder I’m unsettled.

With the upcoming changes to my life, I really feel the need to commit to being here rather than looking to my next flight out. I feel drawn to make this city my own … a desire in me to make it “home”, just as I did in Denver.

So, I broke down and bought a Study Bible yesterday. It cost more than I have ever paid for any Bible in my life, but the time had come when not being able to dig in and make notes on what I was reading was no longer satisfactory. Now it looks like I’ll have to start looking for that 2008 planner as well.

Cars

I was talking to a friend of mine (South African) about buying a car for next year. I’m really not excited about the prospect of buying a car in this country. Besides the fact that I don’t know what I’m going to get for my money (quality-wise), cars here are stinkin’ expensive. On average, a car that would cost $15,000 in the States costs around $30,000 here. I’m looking at used cars because I can’t see myself spending the equivalent of $20,000 on a new bottom-of-the-line Honda, no matter how nice it is.

Our conversation covered such things as base prices, title and license, insurance options and maintenance/upkeep. The more I think about it, the less I want to make a decision this large with this kind of financial impact. I’m not good at deciding … not even about what light bulbs should go in particular rooms in our building. I’d much rather use the money to make the building the kids work and play in safer. I guess that I find it as hard to spend the money on myself as others do, even though the need hangs over my head every day and has been something I’ve regretted not planning for since arriving here.

Financially, can I handle it? Kind of. I have some money that can go towards this, but I will probably need more to buy something reliable that requires little maintenance. So, I’ll have to put the need out there and see if God moves on people’s hearts to give … and I’m really not looking forward to that.

At the same time, I know that something has to give because this has been the largest barrier to my building relationships in this country. It’s also limited me in some ministry opportunities I’ve wanted to take advantage of. So, I’m looking at having to suck it up, even if it means making a huge mistake and having to eat a huge loss. My biggest desire in the midst of this is to be a wise steward of the money God places in my hands.

Doubting

So, I was thinking the other day about what I’m about to step into ministry-wise come 2008 and a small part of me started to think, “What on earth are you doing?”

Besides the known logistical craziness (all matters I would love for you guys who pray to take to the Lord on my behalf, by the way) – having to figure out what needs to be done with Home Affairs in regards to switching my visa from being here under YWAM to being in South Africa under Every Nation & His People; figuring out where my support will be funneled through in the States so people can still receive a tax receipt; making the physical move to the house where I’ll be caring for the children; learning all that I need to know to give them effective care and ministry; working out the logistics of transport … increasing essential as I’m taking on a broader ministry that’s not concentrated within a 5 minute walking radius – I was struck by the thought that I’m not exactly the maternal type. Children are drawn to me, but it’s mostly so that we can get riled up together and be told that we need to keep our noise down.

When I think about working with children on this level – being a primary caregiver – it kinda freaks me out. I find myself wondering if my maternal side will kick in. I’m about to be “mom” to some of Africa’s forgotten children … taking them to school, making sure they do homework, cooking meals, taking them to the doctor, loving on them and disciplining them as needed. Boy do I need His grace in the face of this. I don’t consider myself the nurturing type, so part of me thinks this will be one of God’s greatest miracles in my life.

Once again I can’t deny Him, though. He’s stirred my heart for these children and given me a desire to be His hands and feet here, sharing His love with them … letting them know that He cares for them. If I really think about it, this is an excellent opportunity for God to step in where I end, and for me to operate in His strength rather than my own.

I’m constantly amazed at the places He takes me to, and the things He asks of me … but I’m looking forward to His meeting me there.

New Friends

I spent time with a new friend from church this weekend who’s studying law at Wits University. It was nice to get out of the area I’ve been in for the past seven months and see a new area of Joburg. We went to dinner and a movie (No Reservations … cute, but I can’t tell you how many times I almost cried!), then I spent the night at her place.

Getting to know Karen (inasmuch as you can do that in a few hours) was such a cool experience. Hearing her dreams and the ambitions God’s placed in her heart both challenged and encouraged me.

One of the things we talked about was how God used the parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14-30) to challenge her in her everyday walk with Him. He basically spoke to her about being faithful with the giftings and abilities He’d placed in her, as well as living in balance with Him and in relationship with others.

I walked away from that conversation asking God what talents He’d placed in me that I’d buried or wasn’t being faithful to walk in to bring Him glory. He showed me a few things that I’d “buried in the ground” since being in South Africa – partially out of fear, partly because timing and logistics haven’t made it possible. However, I feel like the time to resurrect these things has come.

What complicates matters is that I’ve been really thinking and asking God about what training would be beneficial to me in pursuing the things He has for me in the future here in South Africa. One of the things that come to mind whenever I do this is health and nutrition for HIV+ children. I’m sure that some of the children I’ll be working with will be HIV+ … at this juncture I don’t know very much about caring for them.

I’m kind of regretting not doing the HIV/AIDS School in Muizenburg right about now. It looks like I’ll have to look into some other avenues!

Imagine

Am I the only one who wonders why my mind is often blank? Sometimes when I try to think through what’s going on in my crazy life – manage what’s being tossed around in my head – it slowly dawns on me that there’s nothing too pressing going on. I guess this is a good thing.
As a result of last week’s teaching at church, God’s been challenging me with Ephesians 3:20,21 lately. Why am I amazed that He is able to do more than I ask or imagine? When I look at where I am today, versus where I thought I’d be, there is no doubt in my mind that He can do more than I can imagine. On top of that, I’ve seen His great faithfulness to me in the past … not only does He address the things I ask of Him, but He goes above and beyond that with the gifts that He gives.

Maybe that’s why there’s no intense worry about where I’m headed or wondering about the details of what’s to come. I’m more freaked about the things He’s challenging me on – on a personal and spiritual level. I think this has more to do with what He’s asking me to relinquish and the dreams He’s asking me to pursue. They’re so much bigger than anything I would’ve imagined for myself, and I tend to look at them with a bit of wonder … that He would choose me to accomplish these things … what is He thinking?

The wild part is that I’m sure that I still don’t have the big picture. All I see are the fragments still … the pieces of the puzzle that will fit together somehow. What’s crazy is that I’m not the only one holding puzzle pieces. There are people I haven’t met yet that are holding pieces with my picture on it as well.

How great is our God?

Mixed Emotions ...

Is it because I'm a girl that I just can't seem to make up my mind? In regards to this move to Masiphane next year, I'm excited but sad. I'm moving again ... as if I haven't done that enough in the last year. And this move is a big move ... I'm moving even further away from the things I know - YWAM, YWAMers, Troyeville, Admin. I think that the fact that change is scary is starting to dawn on me and I'm just trying not to think about it.

The change has the possibility of being a life-changing one. I am possibly moving into a season where I figure out that I have giftings and passions that God has placed in me that I haven't been living out. All I know is that this ministry and cause are calling to me like only one other thing in the world has in the past - street kids in South America. Part of me still can't believe that God has called me to Africa and is now asking me to live even more beyond myself. Another part of me wonders if He knows something about me that I haven't figured out yet.

I have no idea what next year will hold ... I only have this idea that this move is bigger than anything I can think or imagine. I guess we'll see.

Waiting ...

Is it just me, or do we spend quite a bit of our lives "waiting". We wait in lines, wait to be seen for appointments, wait for that guy or girl we're into to notice us, wait to see what God has in store. I'm currently waiting to have the dilemma of where I spend 2008 resolved. I'd love to move forward with an application process, an interview or something, but instead I'm waiting.

It makes me wonder if we're supposed to be doing something else while we're "waiting", otherwise we will waste a good deal of our lives.

Response

Recently in the Homework Club, our kids were going through the wordless book and settled into a discussion on sin. What is sin? One of the sins pointed out happened to be violence. Our grade 4 kids asked if it was a sin to hit someone who was raping them, or raping their sister ... was it a sin to retaliate on someone who walked up to them at school or on the street and punched them in the face ... this is the reality of a grade 4 child where I live and work.

Of course the biblical answer that came up was that, as Christians, we're to turn the other cheek and let God be our avenger.

Since I'd recently struggled with the answer to the question of what to do when someone repeatedly crosses your boundaries, I didn't say much in response to that scripture quote. I know myself ... in myself I would say hit first and seek repentence later if needed.

Everyone of us would respond differently.

Change

It's so interesting to be looking into the tunnel of change once again and being excited about it. I'm not 100% sure that the change that God spoke to me recently about is necessarily Malibongwe, but I know that something is coming down the pipeline.

Someone recently asked me if I regretted coming to South Africa. I don't regret it at all. God has done so much in me, and to some degree through me here. He's taught me things I couldn't have known otherwise. I went through things that I don't think could happen anywhere else in the world. Even though I can't honestly say that I like it here, I can say that I've loved the fruit from the process.

So, here we go again. I'm on yet another leg of this adventure with God. We'll see where He's leading!

So stinkin' cute ...

Today, as the preschoolers were leaving to go home, one of the boys came up to me and kissed the back of my hand before running off to meet his mother for the short walk home. It was so cute!!! Ach, chivalry isn't dead and it's still a great way to make an impression.

The "bush"

Life in the “bush” … it strikes me as strange that a good portion of the men I talk to here who have been involved with missions have this desire to live in the bush somewhere, where there’s no running water and the nearest shopping mall is miles and miles away with a movie theater that consists of two screens the size of our big screen tvs back in the States, showing pirated movies. May God bless the women who eventually marry them.

For me, I know that I’m not called to the bush. If God were to ask me to move to the bush of Africa (or the bush of the Amazon, for that matter), I think it would spark another two years of trying to negotiate with Him. I’m a suburban kinda girl, who likes to be able to escape the busyness of city life by hiking a mountain or camping in a national park for the weekend. I enjoy grocery stores that sell a variety of nice cheeses, good food at nice restaurants, bookstores, sterile doctor’s offices and that lovely modern invention called electricity.

Okay, okay, I have to admit – the bush is kind of stimulating for a while. To “rough it” knowing that I’m eventually heading back to hot showers and washing machines can be fun. You get to see just what you’re made of and appreciate the everyday things we take for granted. I just don’t know if I can follow a husband down that road for long periods of time. We might have to resort to the two separate households arrangement.

I wonder if I’m capable of more than I’m giving myself credit for? God made me, after all, and who knows better what I’m able to endure? I have to be honest and say that I don’t really want to endure … I want to enjoy! Looks like I’d better hone in on those boys who enjoy the suburban side of missions.

Reproduction

I was at church this weekend and the guy teaching got up and said that he had a challenge for the singles out there. Oh, brother. He’d come to His People to talk about God in the marketplace and what our attitude should be towards work, but decided to preface his teaching with this:

For those of you born after 1974, congratulations. I say “congratulations” because in 1974, legislation was passed that could have legally prevented you from every being born (Roe v. Wade). The enemy had a plan to eradicate an entire generation of God’s seed from the earth, and he’s actually succeeded with a good portion of his plan. Now, we’re seeing his plan B. In large metropolitan cities across the world we’re seeing more and more single people who are of marrying age who, instead of choosing to marry and reproduce, are focusing instead on careers, climbing corporate ladders and building that “nest egg”. Plan A was to keep you from being born … plan B is to keep you from reproducing. Where will the next generation of godly seed come from if you continue along this path?

I have to admit that I’ve never thought of it that way. You see, I have friends who are (desperately) wanting to marry, but haven’t been able to make that connection – the “I’m-interested-in-you-and-you’re-interested-in-me-and-I-think-God-is-calling-us-in-the-same-direction” connection. Do I even have to mention that most of these are women? I know so many godly, incredible, beautiful, strong women who would make amazing wives and mothers who are waiting on God.

I also have friends who are dating/married, but have no intention of starting a family any time soon. Some are waiting until they’re financially more stable, until they can survive on one salary, until they’ve paid off some debts, etc.

I have to admit that, while I would like to get married someday, up until this point I was still wavering on the issue of having children. Whenever someone referred to my biological clock ticking away, I wouldn’t be bothered by the rudeness of the comment because I didn’t think it affected me. To be hones, I wasn’t so keen on having the load of the responsibility that comes with children. After this guy’s teaching and admonition, I also think – wow, what a privilege. What am I waiting for?

Home

I sometimes wonder at this illusion of "home". When people ask me where I'm from, I always hesitate. I was born in the Caribbean (St. Croix, U.S.V.I.) ... brought up in Texas ... my family still lives there. I felt more at home in Colorado than anywhere. I oftentimes wonder what it would take for South Africa to feel like "home" to me.

Is it the people, the relationships that make a place "home"? I got to hang out with a team from the States this week that made me feel like I was at home. I laughed so much and practically adopted the teenage boys as nephews, the girls as nieces. There's something that deeply connects me to some people, and not to others. I'm not sure if it's a particular type of people ... it doesn't seem to only be with Americans ... it happened in Brazil as well.

I would probably say that it's also the building - having a space to call my own that you've created that fits who you am. It's also a little bit knowing that I'll be there for a while, allowing me to settle in for the long haul and dig in enough to establish roots.

Home. How do you build a sense of home into your life when it seems like you don't stay anywhere long enough to make it worthwhile?

I'm not sure where to go from here, but I know I'll need it in the long run.

Leaving, on a jet plane ...

I find myself leaving somewhere I want to stay, yet again. The new friends I've made here in São Paulo were trying to convince me to change my flight to stay a few more days ... it almost worked.

Since I last wrote I've been to a bar to watch a soccer match on big screen (yes, Brazilians really do love their soccer!). It was fun to be there and feel the energy and watch the police roll through the area after Brazil won on penalty kicks against Uruguay ... just in case people got out of hand in their celebrations. I only heard a few glasses break and saw one fight.

Next day I got to head to Campos do Jordão with Nil and her sister - a cute little town that has European roots. It felt like I was back in Germany! We walked around the streets, tasting yumminess along the way (including more chocolate covered strawberries!). Nil got this hot chocolate that was so think, her spoon stood straight up in it by itself. I couldn't do it.

Last night some new friends invited us to their home for a barbeque ... I laughed so much and came home so full. They tried to get me to dance to Michael Jackson ... in the end I danced to Daddy Yankee and 50 Cent. It's so funny to me that church leaders buy this music and their parents (in their 70s) dance to it, but they don't know what the people are talking about.

Today, Nil's mom made feijoada as my last meal ... ahhh, Brazilian food! It was so good, but I ate way too fast.

I fly out tonight at 10:30 ... sadness! It was nice to feel at "home" again.

I love strawberries.

In spite of being in bed for the last few days - vomiting, fever, with diarrhea and barely being able to leave my bed - I decided to head to the Festival de Morango yesterday. What can I say ... I have my weaknesses!

I knew that I couldn't eat much, so I had to decide well. Nil and I took a stroll through the fairgrounds, checking everything out. There were sausages on a stick ... sandwiches with chopped beef, pork and chicken and salsa ... mini pizzas ... natural fruit juices ... and everything you could possibly do to a strawberry. Strawberry kebabs, chocolate and brigadeiro covered strawberries, candied strawberries, strawberries and chantilly sauce, strawberry stroganoff, strawberry ice cream, strawberry crepes ... ahhh, heaven. I had to choose wisely, because I knew that no matter what I ate, it wasn't going to be on the list of things my sister said I should be eating to get over my bout with the stomach bug (bread, rice, bananas and Gatorade).

All I can say is that I chose the things that I would regret not eating. :o)

I thank God for strawberries.

I'm not sure why I can't add a title to these blog posts ...

It's Monday and I'm feeling better. In spite of the urgings of Nil's family, I didn't go to the doctor. I consulted my sis in Houston and she thinks that my body's had enough food and was revolting. I think I haven't eaten this much fast, fried food and dairy on the go since I left America and my body reacted to the "normal" food I ate before leaving Rio (baked potato with butter and chives and a grilled chicken breast ... although I am beginning to wonder at the connection with the times I've had food poisoning after eating chicken breasts).

So, today I'm going to try and go to the Strawberry Festival in spite of having slight Hershey Squirts (that would be diarrhea for those not familiar with the term). I love strawberries and can't imagine missing it while I'm here. I promise not to get too much sun so that I don't get dehydrated. I only have four more days to eat, I mean explore Brazil ... I promise to take it easy on the intestines.

I'm not sure what it is about foreign men and me when it comes to national religious monuments. I was in Rio with my friend Nil and we'd decided to pay the money to go visit one of the newly crowned 7 Wonders of the World - the statue of Christ the Redeemer. After all, when was I likely to be in Rio again anytime soon? So, we pay our 35 Reias and take the train up.

When we get to the top, there's a bunch of people up there ... and Christ is smaller than he looks from Copacabana. If you know me, you know that I'm everywhere, trying to get the photos that I see in my mind - a closeup of his face, a head-shot with his arms spanning the photo, a full body shot, etc. Well, I'm not paying attention, but there's a guy that's been talking to me in Portuguese. I'm not answering, so he tries English ... "Hello, how are you?" Like any good American, I answered, "Great, how are you?" To this all of his friends break out in some crazy cheers ... I guess after trying several languages, he's cracked the code.

After this, they kind of follow us around, eventually asking my friend in Portuguese how much it would cost for him and his friends to take pictures with me. Papparazzi! It was CRAZY, and once again I found myself standing with men who I couldn't understand, taking photo after photo. (The last time this happened was in Italy.) I didn't charge them this time either ... I figured if all they wanted was a photo of a black American they met in Rio, the least I could do was oblige. (Especially since I was too chicken to ask for photos with some of the extremely beautiful Brazilian men I saw in Rio ... sooooooo many missed opportunities. I really gotta work on that!)

Besides this craziness, Rio was amazing! We stayed in a slum area that wasn't too dangerous ... but we couldn't stay out after 8 or 9 for safety reasons. We hit all the toursity spots - Copacabana, Ipanema, Barra, Pão de Açucar, Cristo. We spent a small fortune on buses and taxis, but I decided before I came that I was going to pay whatever it cost, because this may be my only time here. Sieze the day!

So, I'm back in São Paulo for a few more days before flying out on Thursday. I was supposed to go to the Strawberry Festival yesterday, but instead spent the day in bed after throwing up several times on the bus ride back. I'm not sure if it was a virus or something I ate. Either way, it seems to be passing, so all is well. Maybe I can go to the festival tomorrow ... I hear that they have live music and chocolate dipped strawberries!

Cowboy memories

I went to a caipera (cowboy) party last night with some friends of Nilceia (she had to speack at a church service). One of the guys spoke basic English, so I spoke Spanish when we couldn't understand each other and met in the middle that way. It was fun to be in the presence of church people who knew how to act crazy when the occassion arose.

When we arrived at the farm, there were a group of men building a prison out of tree branches. Apparently, people can turn in "wanted posters" with your name on it, and the local sheriffs chase you down and carry you (literally) off to prison. I only had to go once. :o)

After sampling lots of yummy food prepared by the older women of the church (who I got to meet and greet with kisses before I could touch any of it), there were games like the three-legged race, the ring toss and tug-of-war that took place. Did I mention the mechanical bull? Yeah, I rode it.

Then there was a traditional square dancing type of thing that we did as part of a mock wedding ceremony. It was fun! At times I had no idea what I was doing, but my partner told me (in Portuguese) what to do when directions changed.

So, all this to say it was a good time and I'm glad I did it! Brazilians know how to have fun ... and now I'm off to Rio de Janeiro for a week.

Snoop Dog and Monkeys

So, we went out on the town yesterday with Nil's sister Cassia. While we were at her house, she thought I'd enjoy watching MTV ... in English. I said whatever, so on the tv went. While I was taking in the music news, Cassia heard the beginning of a Snoop Dog song from the bedroom ... she came out just to join in. Now, if you didn't know that she's one of those people that goes to church 4 times a week, you wouldn't think this is funny. For me, it was hilarious because it was a grand departure from the Christian music we listen to in her car. Apparently, Snoop Dog still has a bit of a hold on her. Oh the things we export to other countries. ...

After driving around Guarulhos and Sáo Paulo for 3 hours we ended up at a Churrascuria. The food was so good! I was saddened to know that I can't eat as much as I used to. South Africa has ruined me ... at least until I return to the U.S. and am faced with Chipotle, Chilis, PF Chang's, Outback and the Olive Garden. After stuffing my face with just about every part of the cow available and a few legs of lamb, I was starting to get seriously full.

Just in case you don't know how these Churrascurias work - you have a card that has a red side and a green side. As long as the card is on red, you're safe. You can enjoy as much sides and salad from the bar as you want (but in the face of Brazilian and Argentinian beef, why would you?). Once you flip that card over to the green side, though, the barrage starts. Servers with all kinds of meat on skewers (like filet mignon, lamb, chicken, sirloin with garlic, etc.) will pass by your table and offer their services until you flip that card over again. I was so consumed with the goodies (and the beautiful men bringing it round) that I forgot to take pictures.

When I came to, I handed Nil my camera to take a photo of me and one of the servers. When she handed the camera back to me and told me to look at it to make sure it was okay, I lost it. The last photo displayed was of a monkey I saw at the park. Needless to say, our server was as confused as I was about which one of us the monkey was supposed to be.

Fun times at a very nice (and expensive) steakhouse. This has pretty much characterized my trip so far ... fun times with Nil's crazy family, taking in lots of yummy local food and admiring the beauty of the masculine side of God's creation. I'm fortunate that the men here like morenas, and are a bit more charismatic about their approach. It's nice to be admired, not ogled ... and to admire the admirer for a change. :o)

"Big Big"

So, I went into São Paulo Cuidade today with Nilceia and decided to buy a bit of cold weather gear ... it appears that with my landing in Brazil a cold front from South Africa decided to follow. I remembered that women in Brazil were supposed to be smaller than in America, but I had one of those lapses in memory when I thought about buying this shirt.

The guy that helped me out in this particular store was practicing his English with me as I shopped ... when I asked him if an item came in American sizes, he pulled one out and said "this one - big big". I started laughing so hard that it drew stares. Apparently I'm size "big big" in Brazil. Guess I won´t be buying those pants here after all ... wouldn´t want to embarrass myself in the Gap by asking for size "big big" instead of an 8.

:o)

Brasilia

Greetings from Sao Paolo!

After a pretty uneventful 10 hour flight, I arrived safely in Brazil and was able to breeze through customs. It made me wonder why customs was so difficult in my home country. No one even asked if I had anything to declare or what I was coming in for. It was another fun experience, this time with friendly Brazilian faces welcoming me into the country.

First thing Nil´s family wanted to do was feed me ... it felt like I´d come home. After repeatedly telling them that I wasn´t hungry after South African Airlines food, they went out to Habib´s and brought food back for me to taste. I thought it was fun that my first meal in Brazil was from a fast food place called "Habib´s".

Nilceia´s family is great ... I feel so bad for them (and myself) because they want so bad to communicate with me, but my Spanish is rusty and when I´m tired Portuguese is really difficult to understand. Nil´s niece Estér doesn´t quite understand that I only understand a little Portuguese. When I answer her questions in Spanish it fuels the fire. She's a cutie who asked how to say "can I give you a hug?" in English so she could do it.

I´m at the beginning of three weeks in this beautiful country, and am glad for the opportunity to step out of the frustrations of South Africa for a while. Ahhh, holidays!

Voices

Do you find it easy to blot out the voice of God in your head? Sometimes I wish I could not hear Him when He tells me some things. Other times, I wish He would speak and make "all things clear". He's not saying much at the moment, which is slightly frustrating ... it just means I must carry on with the last thing He spoke to me, which is "trust Me". I'm trying, but I can barely feel the air in front of my face at the moment.

I'm trying to figure out why it is I can never be wholly content with where I am in life. When I was in Denver, I wished that I could have both my family and my life there ... when I was in Houston, I longed for the relationships I had in Denver. Now that I'm in Joburg, I spend about half of my time wishing I were somewhere else (still longing for the relationships, though). I long to feel the illusions of safety and freedom ... and be able to walk down the street or go out at night without feeling as though I'm putting my life in some danger. I miss laughing. I miss being at peace.

I know that my peace should have nothing to do with my surroundings, but unfortunately that's the way God made me. My environment has a great affect on me, and at the moment the affect isn't a great one. I'm not depressed or anything, just frustrated. I'm praying that God does something soon.

Arguing with God ...

I'm pretty sure that there are some out there that will balk at the fact that I had an all out vent session with God this weekend. Every once in a while I reach that point where I can't take it anymore and I know that He's the only one that will understand my rantings.

This Sunday happened to be about how He created me. Now, before you send in emails regarding how I'm "fearfully and wonderfully made", I know that. The central point of my frustration was in the fact that He created me with certain desires and tendencies, then called me to a lifestyle that isn't exactly a perfect match for those desires and tendencies.

To better explain this, I'll take an excerpt from my journal:

"I'm periodically amazed that God's called me to missions. I sometimes think - 'He created me, you'd think He would have known better.' I mean, think about it - I don't like change ... transitions and the unknown frustrate me ... I need deep relationships with people to function best ... I'm used to being well taken care of, yet independent ... I need to feel like I've put down roots and have a place to call my own ... I have issues with men in general, aggressive perverts specifically ... I've struggled with depression and am prone to moodiness when I feel like my world is out of balance.

I sound like the perfect candidate for the mission field, right? Not. I'm not sure what He was thinking, but His mind hasn't changed any, and that's what I screamed out about to Him today. For some reason I thought maybe if I screamed, He would answer."

Frustrations from the missionary front. I continue to trust that He knows me, and that even in my frustrations, He meets me where I am. Whoever said this missionary stuff was easy?

:o)

Yay for Rediscovering Passwords!!!

So, I'm not sure if you've noticed or not, but it's been a while since I blogged. I lost my password!! But, I apparently was smarter than I remembered, because I had it tucked into a spreadsheet somewhere. So, now I'm back!

It is really good to have somewhere to put my thoughts again. I ran out of pages in my journal and trying to find something comparable here in South Africa is pretty pointless. I'm told that there's a 100% tariff on imports, so I'd be paying twice the price for it anyway. Crazy, huh?

So, life in South Africa ... how's it going? I'll be honest and tell you that there are good days and bad days. I'm over most of my culture shock and have pretty much been able to settle into life here. I enjoy the work I'm doing most days, and often wonder what on earth God has me here for. There's a lot of work to be done ... we're in a bit of a transition/growth phase right now. I can see why the experiences & training that I've had would be useful in 2-3 years, but I'm not sure why now. Maybe God wants to add pioneering to my resume.

I'll update the prayer requests on my webpage as well, so make sure you stop by there if you're the praying kind. I appreciate all the prayer I can get!

Love ya and thanks for stopping by.

R

Denver

I just got back from a whirlwind trip to Denver. I managed to cram a lot of quality time in with people in just three days!

I'm amazed at how blessed I am to have been placed in YWAM Denver for the time I was there, with the people I worked with. Friendships rock my face off. I genuinely LOVE these people! God is awesome.

On the flight back to Houston I had the most incredible view of the Rockies that I've ever seen. For just a second, I thought, "I can forego Africa and just move back to Denver ... right, God?" Needless to say, He reminded me that He has many things in store for me in South Africa that I haven't even thought of yet. He's been faithful thus far ... I don't expect anything less for the future.

So, I look back with much love in my heart for all that He's done and continues to do with that crazy bunch in Denver and look forward to all that He has in store for South Africa.

February 20th, baby!

Denver, here I come!

Okay.

You don't even know how excited I am to be leaving for Denver this weekend. I get to hang out with my awesome friends, see snow and hopefully spend some time in worship and alone-time with God preparing for this upcoming season.

SO EXCITED!!!!

weddings

So, I went to a wedding today and although I was very happy for the bride - that she was able to have the wedding of her dreams - I'm pretty sure that if ever I'm proposed to I will give serious consideration to eloping.

There's just way too much involved with traditional weddings. So, I think a small ceremony with family and a few close friends somewhere fun (if eloping is completely out of the question) and a couple receptions where the bulk of my friends reside afterwards.

Yep, sounds like fun to me!

Dream -> Reality

Holy cow, I'm going to Africa. It still seems a bit surreal to me at times. I find myself rushing around, trying to take care of details and make big (and small) decisions and it seems like life as usual ... until I look at the pile of stuff I'll have to pack up for my February 20th flight from Houston to Johannesburg.

God continues to amaze me.

The big struggle at the moment is getting my medical insurance so that I can apply for my visa. Second "struggle" would be trying to reach my financial support goal of $1,500 a month in pledges. I'm currently $600 short. He's brought me this far, so I'm expecting Him to make up the difference ... He's the one that wanted me in South Africa, after all!

So, I continue to plug along with all of this. Fun times!

R