Foto4Friday

Let the weekend begin...

communion

crack open the disaster
the rich raw red flow of this soul

dark colors turning,
dancing in the night

breath!
it comes in gulps of
shattering cold

(breaking death)

crack open the disaster
the sheer shelter sham of self

tastes, heavy like the dew of heaven,
pour together

life!
it comes surging
sure, strong

(unstoppable)

crack open the disaster

Catching a Glimpse of Jesse

I stole this photo of Jesse off of the blog the Creation Care program he's on in Belize keeps so that the parents can get a little glimpse of what's going on there. It's nice of them as the students have very limited opportunity to get on-line so we don't hear news very frequently.

I love the photo because it's just so very Jesse.

He told me that floating down the river on that warm and rainy day he was thinking about what it means to surrender to God and trust the current he has under us.

I like that I learn from my children about how to follow God.

Miracle Soap

"I have a present for you," Byron said as he came round the corner.

(He looked very much like he was up to no good.)

"Really?" I said, the suspicion in my voice drawing the word out.

He held up 2 bars of soap which, he said, he had just purchased from a salesgirl who had taken a liking to Josh (with whom he was having coffee) and who wanted to be Josh's friend. Hmmm.

"These are very special bars of soap," he said, the tone of his voice growing quite serious.

Reading from the back of the box he informed me that the medicated bars had natural extracts, were good for face, hands and body and that they provide "excellent sin care."

"Excellent for sin!" he exclaimed. "What a deal!"

"But they stink," I protested. I hate that hospital disinfectant smell.

"Think about it, Lees," he leaned in to say, "To take care of sin you need some pretty powerful stuff."

I guess he's probably right.

Happy Birthday 24-7!!

Yesterday was 24-7 Prayer's 8th birthday!

It's hard to believe that it has really been 8 years since the prayer movement was launched from a nightclub in Guilford. Carla Harding sent us all birthday greetings yesterday evening, celebrating the four and half thousand prayer rooms, the 2,922 days, or 70,080 hours, or 4,204,800 minutes of non-stop prayer!

I looked out my window here in East Africa and saw a big pale moon rising. Pete Greig looked up at the night sky in England and saw a pale RED MOON rising. Now, I would have just thought it was Pete's enthusiastic imagination that colored the moon except that Markus in Germany confirmed for us that yes, in fact, there was a lunar eclipse last night. He also noted that it's supposed to be the last total eclipse of the moon seen in Europe for the next 7 years.

If you've read Red Moon Rising, the story of 24-7 Prayer, you'll understand why the red moon on our birthday made us smile.

Confession

I have 1,059 mails in my inbox.
That's just wrong.
I know there are important mails that are buried and still not answered.
I'm going to have to do this better.

I will start by making some popcorn and contemplating my ways.

Dish Washing Therapy

I have been washing the dishes this morning. I like the warm, soapy water and the way my nails finally get clean. I like the simple chore that gives me a quiet space and the fact that it's so clear what I have accomplished at the end of it.

(I am less inclined to like putting all the clean dishes away but never mind my shortcomings.)

I thought about Santa Barbara as I washed two soup bowls that I bought a hundred million years ago at the Pier 1 on State Street. I think maybe we used to have several of them, but only two have survived the global relocations. That's lot of miles for a porcelain bowl to live through. I tried to remember what it felt like to live in our little apartment on Carrillo and to be just the 2 of us. To be honest, I don't remember it very well. I think I could, though. I think it's all in there. But it would need more than soapy water and a blue rimmed bowl to call up the feel of those days. I remember that we were happy and that I loved my classes and our church community.

I thought about the things Jim McNeish led the team through last weekend in The Snug at his house by the loch. We notice what is important to us. We need to notice more of the rest of it all too. It helps us connect with those around us if we can do this. Otherwise, we are waiting for people to fit into our notion of things.

I thought about recycling and earth-care and how I don't really know if my small efforts are very helpful. But I determined to keep them up in hopes that they are.

I thought about tea cups and coffee mugs and how I have particular attachments and preferences in this realm. For instance, after washing one of my pretty Portuguese mugs, I carried it away from the dish washing scene to a safer place lest it get knocked and chipped. I like that mug especially.

I thought about how I would rather wash the dishes than face any of the 3 articles I'm supposed to be writing and I wondered why that is. I profess to love writing. I feel moody and intolerant about writing too.

Now the dishes are washed, (and not put away.) I sit on this porch with 3 sleeping dogs collapsed around my feet. Tait is coming over to do some email. Byron is working, though not at the FAFSA application that is hanging over his head. Colin and Chase are eating a late lunch. Skyler is here and he' playing Trevor's little guitar. I think about how blessed we are to have the Russell kids as our extra cousins. And I miss Jesse and Trevor.

A lot.

Wondering in the Rain

We had epic rainfall this afternoon. I stayed snug on our porch, looking out and wondering at the big drops as they beat against the ground.

I wondered, too, what the tortoise who lives in our garden thought of it all. He seized the moment for a stroll up and down our driveway.

"There's No Place Like Home... There's No Place Like Home..."

Returning from productive and inspiring meetings in Scotland, my third and final flight of the homeward journey brought me into Kilimanjaro this morning. The mountain was draped in rainy season clouds, but as we pulled away from the airport, the snow-bright summit became visible and I grinned up at Africa's highest point.

I live here. Hallelujah!

The photo below was taken this evening as Byron sat outside with Endetu. One shoe off, he waited as Endetu adjusted the leather straps of Byron's tire sandals. They are simple shoes but difficult to adjust properly. It took Endetu's expert hand :-)

How Does a Room Make Me Happy?

Here are the photos I took (with my MacBook) of my room. I took them to show to Byron, my mum and my sister so that they could enjoy with me this wonderfully cozy quarters I'm tucked away in. Is everyone as affected as I am by a good room?

Here I Am...in Scotland! (Notes from Travel)

So I've arrived in Scotland! I've come here to meet up with the others on the International Leadership Team for 24-7 Prayer and I'm excited to see everyone when they get in later today.

I don't even know where I am. I'm in Pertshire at a wonderful country home called House of Cantle. It was about 1 hour and 20 mins drive from the Edinburgh airport, though I have no idea which direction we headed out of the city. But we came through moody, misty hills and along cold rivers and lochs. Pretty perfect.

Byron, Colin and Heather are at home in Tanzania and I'll be back with them by Wednesday.

Here are some things I noted as I journeyed from Kilimanjaro to Nairobi to Heathrow to Edinburgh.

Travelers leaving East Africa are often predominantly tourists and, therefore, there is a festive kind of high even in the dimly lit, poorly ventilated hallways and waiting lounges in Nairobi's international airport. Even the most exhausted tourist look pleased with themselves for the safari they just took OR are about to take.

Some advertising slogans don't really cross cultures well. I saw a wine in the window of a duty-free shop that is apparently a Kenyan wine. The slogan read, "You'll love it... Or, you'll learn to love it." To me that reads, "It's not very good but you'll get used to it eventually."

Some duty-free shops should consider getting a new buyer. One in Nairobi featured household appliances. They had irons on display. Not travel irons, mind you. They were the chunky steam irons that you normally find in a permanent location in someone's home. "Ooh, Mum needs a new one of those!" They also had blenders in the window. Yea, that's what I'm thinking about buying as I rush toward my gate.

Color choices denote where you live. Africans of all races wear more colors than people in the UK. To land at Heathrow in February is to be greeted by a sea of nationals dressed in every shade of black and dark grey. It makes the winter seem darker, don't you think?

Mothers understand each other. I smiled toward an African family walking quickly to their flight. The mum was draped in conservative covering, though she was free to show her face. She noticed my, "Oh, I remember how it feels to travel with little kids smile" in her direction and flashed me a lovely, "Thanks for your support" smile back.

British Air domestic flights make a good breakfast! I was given some lame excuse for a breakfast as my flight prepared to come into Heathrow from Nairobi. But on my domestic flight from London up to Edinburgh, I got the real deal. I believe we call it the full English breakfast as it included eggs, sausage, bacon, baked tomato and mushrooms and a cup of tea. I was just missing the baked beans. Very impressive!

Sitting for hours on end, be it in an airport or on a plane, makes me tired. The trip has just caught up with me big time. Boy, I better go grab a nap before the rest of this team gets here.

(Photo courtesy of House of Cantle)

Responding to Kenya

As you know, at least 850 people have been killed and hundreds of thousands displaced in the weeks since the disputed election results were announced in Kenya.

Please check our Wild Hope Stories BLOG to hear about how you can respond in an intimate and significant way to one extended Kenyan family whose lives have been shattered by the unrest.

The First Goodbye

My friend Pam leaves Arusha on the Tuesday night KLM flight.

I'm not happy about this.

Don't get me wrong--I'm happy for Pam. I'm happy for the things (though yet unseen) that are opening up ahead of her. I'm happy about a certain boy who would like to have her nearer. I'm happy that there is a conviction that this is right. But I'm not happy that Pam is leaving.

I think of all the teaching I have done on cross-cultural adjustment, international living, staying healthy as a family through global re-settling, getting beyond the just surviving to the actual thriving. I think about all those words I have spoken, read, written or taught on it all and I remember that one of the most important words is "Goodbye."

I think of Gwen, the sweet-faced hostess with the mostess who lived many years in a remote little corner of Maasai, on the bend of a river where the big fig trees grow. Gwen said that when she left her homeland she thought she had said all her goodbyes. What surprised my friend the most was the constant cycle of goodbyes that came her way once she had begun this international life. Ruth Van Reken, gifted author and speaker on these topics, calls it the continuing cycle of separation and loss.

I have a lot more I could say on this but there will be people arriving to my (messy) house in 90 mins for a quiet little send-off for Pam. We want to spend the evening worshiping God together and then praying our friend on her way.

Let me just say this: Pam's departure is my first goodbye from Arusha (besides our boys leaving for college) and I know it will not be the last. Pam welcomed us to the this town with kind words and dinner invitations and times of laughing together. I am thankful for these short 8 months of having her as a neighbor across town. I am thankful that she has been in our lives. I am thankful that somewhere along the way, this international life has taught us to open our hearts quickly to each other. I am just plain thankful for Pam.

Go well, Pam.
Be blessed.
We will miss you.