Some times I scroll through blogs and links and related articles and sometimes the writing can go hyper and then the whole thing starts to give me hyper tension. Good grief. The blogsphere is just crawling with Christians acting creepy toward each other as they slate their foes (other Christians) with their clever arguments. It’s as if there are armies of Christians out there who believe that their job is to take apart and “expose” every person that they don’t see eye to eye with. The term "heretic" has come to mean, “One who does not think like I do.”
What’s the point? I have to wonder…
What if people cared that much about guarding their own hearts and growth in their own spirits? What if they cared that much about the poor, the oppressed, the abused, the lost?
Jesus didn’t seem to spend much time preaching against wrong theology or doctrine. He did speak out against things from time to time. But honestly, most of his time was spent teaching in his gentle and patient way. The balance of his time was spent in relationship with friends, new and old, usually around food and drink.
Gentleness and patience. Food and drink. Now there’s a couple of concepts for us.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Busy Being Happy
It's been quiet on the blog because I've been too busy to write...
Busy running back and forth to the shuttle drop-off, collecting various vagabond family members (and their friends.)
Busy hugging and smiling.
Busy trying to remember how to cook proportions that meet college-boys eating habits.
Busy keeping up with the dishes.
Busy making more pots of tea to accompany more conversations.
Did I mention busy smiling?
Now I'm tired, tired, tired. Not from all those good things to be busy with. No, I"m tired because it's 11pm and I've been peeling and slicing bananas for the last 90 mins with my husband who has gone completely round the bend with drying fruit. This fun little domestic project has turned him into a madman.
Never mind.
Busy running back and forth to the shuttle drop-off, collecting various vagabond family members (and their friends.)
Busy hugging and smiling.
Busy trying to remember how to cook proportions that meet college-boys eating habits.
Busy keeping up with the dishes.
Busy making more pots of tea to accompany more conversations.
Did I mention busy smiling?
Now I'm tired, tired, tired. Not from all those good things to be busy with. No, I"m tired because it's 11pm and I've been peeling and slicing bananas for the last 90 mins with my husband who has gone completely round the bend with drying fruit. This fun little domestic project has turned him into a madman.
Never mind.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Post #323 (In Which I Rush Outside to See the Sun)
It's weird that I've rushed out of doors to greet the sun (since I live in Africa and all) but we've not had much of the beloved presence in the last couple of months.
(My apologies to those who live in places like Seattle and the UK where this run of clouds and rain would not warrant whining.)
The sun is here today and I hope it will last or at least make frequent appearances between showers. The rainy season usually sprinkles out by the end of May and I'm just politely encouraging it to move along now. "Get along, little dawgie."
Trevor has jumped on a shuttle for Nairobi so that he can meet Darrelle's plane at 6:30am tomorrow and escort her over the bumpy roads and through the (some times bewildering) border crossing.
Jesse should be on a shuttle from Nairobi this very minute. Their shuttles will pass on the way somewhere. I wish they would both be at the same rest stop at the same time. Wouldn't that be crazy? Hugging brothers at a tourist stop, destined to be pulled apart again quickly as they continue their journeys in opposite directions. It would be tragic except that will meet up at our place by Thursday afternoon.
Byron and Tammy are doing a day seminar with the Artisan ladies. They have some issues to work out with the new line of products our fair trade project is working on. There were some funny boo boos in the first batch of the new designs. Last year we introduced angels with cone shaped dresses. This year, we're using a similar cone shape but making Christmas trees. We had some trees come in, topped with stars as they should be, but with angel arms attached. Ha! I guess it's hard to imagine an angel or a Christmas tree if you have not grown up with many, many images of these things firmly planted in your mind.
Colin is trying his best to understand how to diagram sentences and I've just spent 20 minutes watching the lesson with him. I don't understand it ONE bit. I think diagraming sentences is a foolish waste of time. (Dana, I hope you can tell me I'm right about this.)
Heather is laid up on the sofa with a fever and sore throat. The Russell twins are doing home school with Val the Valiant Visitor at our dining room table.
And me? I am avoiding the grocery shopping and the general clean up, the emails I haven't answered and the deadlines I have for a couple of little writing things as I linger in the warmth of this good sunshine.
Enough pleasuring. Back to work now...
(PS I posted today on my Conversant Life blog
(My apologies to those who live in places like Seattle and the UK where this run of clouds and rain would not warrant whining.)
The sun is here today and I hope it will last or at least make frequent appearances between showers. The rainy season usually sprinkles out by the end of May and I'm just politely encouraging it to move along now. "Get along, little dawgie."
Trevor has jumped on a shuttle for Nairobi so that he can meet Darrelle's plane at 6:30am tomorrow and escort her over the bumpy roads and through the (some times bewildering) border crossing.
Jesse should be on a shuttle from Nairobi this very minute. Their shuttles will pass on the way somewhere. I wish they would both be at the same rest stop at the same time. Wouldn't that be crazy? Hugging brothers at a tourist stop, destined to be pulled apart again quickly as they continue their journeys in opposite directions. It would be tragic except that will meet up at our place by Thursday afternoon.
Byron and Tammy are doing a day seminar with the Artisan ladies. They have some issues to work out with the new line of products our fair trade project is working on. There were some funny boo boos in the first batch of the new designs. Last year we introduced angels with cone shaped dresses. This year, we're using a similar cone shape but making Christmas trees. We had some trees come in, topped with stars as they should be, but with angel arms attached. Ha! I guess it's hard to imagine an angel or a Christmas tree if you have not grown up with many, many images of these things firmly planted in your mind.
Colin is trying his best to understand how to diagram sentences and I've just spent 20 minutes watching the lesson with him. I don't understand it ONE bit. I think diagraming sentences is a foolish waste of time. (Dana, I hope you can tell me I'm right about this.)
Heather is laid up on the sofa with a fever and sore throat. The Russell twins are doing home school with Val the Valiant Visitor at our dining room table.
And me? I am avoiding the grocery shopping and the general clean up, the emails I haven't answered and the deadlines I have for a couple of little writing things as I linger in the warmth of this good sunshine.
Enough pleasuring. Back to work now...
(PS I posted today on my Conversant Life blog
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
We Get Seriously Into Dry Fruit
Ok, can I say that we have used several solar fruit drying methods over the years?
We've had the 3 leveled hanging screen-over-wood-frame things. We've had the wooden box with the glass lid and the ventilation holes on the side. Most recently, we've had the cookie sheet with the netting over it. All of these have been home-made creations, some that followed actual plans. (I think you can guess that the cookie sheet with the net over it was not one for which we followed building instructions.)
To be honest, we've never been happy with any of these methods. That would explain why we keep changing things around. My 2 major complaints have to do with the length of time it took to dry bananas (days) which meant I had to move the thing in and out of the house several times, and the fact that flies seem to still figure out how to beat these systems.
So I got this cool electric dryer that came highly recommended by a environmentally sensitive friend. It's a Nesco American Harvest FD-1010 Garden Master Food Dehydrator.
We're making hay will the sun is shining, so to speak, around here as fruit is in gonzo amounts in the market. We've have been drying lots and lots of really nice stuff. We've done loads of banana and mango, tried some pineapple and oranges and tangerines too. The oranges and tangerines were kind of marginal but everything else was amazing. Fantabulous. (Our family is particularly fond of dry mango.)
I love that it only takes about 6 hours to do 10 trays and that's it's nicely energy efficient. And my eco friend who recommended it says that the nutrients are better preserved when the fruit is not in ultra violet rays. That's a big plus, eh?
But my favorite thing is that it fills the house with this wonderful warm, sweet and fruity smell.
Byron is really, really into this at the minute. He has been Breakfast King in the past. He has been BBQ Master and Salsa King as well. Right now, he is the Dry Fruit King.
I like him. Pretty much.
We've had the 3 leveled hanging screen-over-wood-frame things. We've had the wooden box with the glass lid and the ventilation holes on the side. Most recently, we've had the cookie sheet with the netting over it. All of these have been home-made creations, some that followed actual plans. (I think you can guess that the cookie sheet with the net over it was not one for which we followed building instructions.)
To be honest, we've never been happy with any of these methods. That would explain why we keep changing things around. My 2 major complaints have to do with the length of time it took to dry bananas (days) which meant I had to move the thing in and out of the house several times, and the fact that flies seem to still figure out how to beat these systems.
So I got this cool electric dryer that came highly recommended by a environmentally sensitive friend. It's a Nesco American Harvest FD-1010 Garden Master Food Dehydrator.
We're making hay will the sun is shining, so to speak, around here as fruit is in gonzo amounts in the market. We've have been drying lots and lots of really nice stuff. We've done loads of banana and mango, tried some pineapple and oranges and tangerines too. The oranges and tangerines were kind of marginal but everything else was amazing. Fantabulous. (Our family is particularly fond of dry mango.)
I love that it only takes about 6 hours to do 10 trays and that's it's nicely energy efficient. And my eco friend who recommended it says that the nutrients are better preserved when the fruit is not in ultra violet rays. That's a big plus, eh?
But my favorite thing is that it fills the house with this wonderful warm, sweet and fruity smell.
Byron is really, really into this at the minute. He has been Breakfast King in the past. He has been BBQ Master and Salsa King as well. Right now, he is the Dry Fruit King.
I like him. Pretty much.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
We do Jigs and I Grow Up
As I said, little jigs all over the globe these days as our family moves toward Arusha.
The adventures of getting us home have been great. Nearly missed flights, fully missed flights, lost bags, telephones left on planes (and miraculously retrieved), mistakes in itineraries, low luggage allotments, charges for extra bags, hazardous roads with crazy drivers, forgotten health cards with the needed immunization records... All quite alarming for a family of well-seasoned travelers!
At one point, I was in Africa on Skype to my parents in LA who had Byron in DC on their speaker phone and the 4 of us were connected as we waited to see how things would resolve after the missed flight of one of our offspring.
Each little and big incident has caused some level of anxiety in me. And yet, I am thankful.
I am thankful to learn a little more about the kindness of strangers, the generosity of customer service reps, the merciful intervention of a caring God. I am thankful to learn how to look the issues dead on, do what we can, pray for help and then let them go.
I think I have grown.
"Mama, I love you!" I hear Trevor's morning greeting as I make breakfast and I think to myself that I would live it again in a minute to hear that.
There is one nomad still on walkabout: Jesse Boy. He arrives on 21st (and can I say that I'm looking for no more dramas other than the highly dramatic happiness we will feel when we see him.)
And the very next day will bring Darrelle. Darrelle is the college friend who has captured Trevor's attention. How fun for us that we get to have her in Africa with us for 3 weeks!
Blessed and blessed... That's what we are!
The adventures of getting us home have been great. Nearly missed flights, fully missed flights, lost bags, telephones left on planes (and miraculously retrieved), mistakes in itineraries, low luggage allotments, charges for extra bags, hazardous roads with crazy drivers, forgotten health cards with the needed immunization records... All quite alarming for a family of well-seasoned travelers!
At one point, I was in Africa on Skype to my parents in LA who had Byron in DC on their speaker phone and the 4 of us were connected as we waited to see how things would resolve after the missed flight of one of our offspring.
Each little and big incident has caused some level of anxiety in me. And yet, I am thankful.
I am thankful to learn a little more about the kindness of strangers, the generosity of customer service reps, the merciful intervention of a caring God. I am thankful to learn how to look the issues dead on, do what we can, pray for help and then let them go.
I think I have grown.
"Mama, I love you!" I hear Trevor's morning greeting as I make breakfast and I think to myself that I would live it again in a minute to hear that.
There is one nomad still on walkabout: Jesse Boy. He arrives on 21st (and can I say that I'm looking for no more dramas other than the highly dramatic happiness we will feel when we see him.)
And the very next day will bring Darrelle. Darrelle is the college friend who has captured Trevor's attention. How fun for us that we get to have her in Africa with us for 3 weeks!
Blessed and blessed... That's what we are!
Saturday, May 10, 2008
A Building Buzz
There's such a buzz in our family right now. I've been in England for a few days--a quick dash in and out for the 24-7 leadership meetings. Byron is in California for board meetings. Trevor is in Colorado with Darrelle's family. Jesse is in Belize. Colin and Heather are in Arusha with the Russell family.
But little emails keep flying around between us all.
"Can't wait to get home!"
"I'll be with you soon!"
"Hard to believe we'll be there in a few days..."
"Almost there!"
Everyone is on the move now toward home where Colin and Heather await in Tanzania. I'm most of the way there, having just landed in Nairobi and settled into the guest house for the night. Byron flies out of LA tomorrow morning and he'll meet Trevor in DC that afternoon. They will fly on together, arriving a couple of days after me. Jesse leaves Belize shortly after that and gets to us on 21st.
I think we're all getting a little wigged out with excitement.
So, if you're in transit somewhere, you might spot various Borden family members doing little jigs in airports around the world :-)
But little emails keep flying around between us all.
"Can't wait to get home!"
"I'll be with you soon!"
"Hard to believe we'll be there in a few days..."
"Almost there!"
Everyone is on the move now toward home where Colin and Heather await in Tanzania. I'm most of the way there, having just landed in Nairobi and settled into the guest house for the night. Byron flies out of LA tomorrow morning and he'll meet Trevor in DC that afternoon. They will fly on together, arriving a couple of days after me. Jesse leaves Belize shortly after that and gets to us on 21st.
I think we're all getting a little wigged out with excitement.
So, if you're in transit somewhere, you might spot various Borden family members doing little jigs in airports around the world :-)
Friday, May 09, 2008
The Kindness of Strangers
Traffic in and around Nairobi in the evening is something that you never want to be caught it. It's gridlock with potholes and dust and heavily laden lorries carving new lanes on the median, the non-existent shoulder, through and around the cars packed tightly in one log jam to end all log jams.
I was trying not be nervous. And honestly, I was doing a pretty good job of it.
What's to be nervous about? I have taken the 5 hour shuttle bus from Arusha to the airport in Nairobi several times now. No matter how shocking and disastrous the traffic appears, we always seem to pull up to the grungey curbside of Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in ample time to get checked in and upstairs for tea and a samosa before the flight. The flight is in the middle of the night and the long journey to the terminal is jut a preamble to the rest of the trip.
But something seemed wrong to me on Monday evening. In fact, something WAS wrong.
Walking up the aisle, I asked the driver about my stop at the airport. I felt for the other passengers who still had to make it through the choked arteries of the city to the designated drop-off sites downtown but I knew that this was all part of the deal. You buy a ticket and let them know if you need the airport or one of those other 2 stops. My ticket said "International Airport" right on it and the other travelers would just have to abide the brief detour on their way.
But this little piece of info that instructed to the driver to make the airport stop had some how not been conveyed by the shuttle company to their fine employee.
"What? What? What?" he yelled, "No one told me about the airport!!"
Just about then, the shuttle came to a complete stop and the gridlock closed in all around us. We were stuck, pointed toward the city with no way to get me back toward my flight. At best, if we crept into the city and got ourselves turned around after dropping the other folks off, I might get there in about 2 more hours. But it could be longer.
I started to not feel so calm anymore. I was trying to trust and relax and not freak out, but I can't say I was doing very well, though I looked pretty good (maybe) on the outside.
As I explained the predicament to the nice gentleman across the aisle, the driver started yelling at me that this was MY fault because I was late to the shuttle and so they had failed to ask me where I was going to alight.
"No," I said, "I was NOT late to the shuttle. I bought my ticket last week and told them then that I was going to the airport and I was not late today either. This is NOT my fault!" I added with uncharacteristic firmness. "NOT MY FAULT!"
Sitting in the parking lot that might eventually open up and become a thoroughfare into the city once again, I began to wonder what would happen if I missed my flight.
And that's when the pleasant looking Kenyan woman from across the aisle and behind me spoke up.
"Can I take you to the airport?" she asked.
I blinked and tried to understand.
Well, her partner was going to meet the shuttle as soon as we hit the next major turn. She was going to get the driver to let her out at this unscheduled stop and the car would be pointed the right direction for the airport. She was volunteering to take me a long distance out of her way after the long afternoon of a long journey.
My feelbe mind raced, trying to think if there was any reason I should not accept this offer. But next thing I knew, the shuttle was pulled over and the driver was climbing on the roof to retrieve my bag. I held onto his arm as he held onto my luggage and we crossed 4 busy lanes of traffic in the dark.
The car was pretty flash and nicely cooled by the air conditioning. I slipped into the back, wondering if they were connected to organized crime and might they want to sell my internal organs in some seedy alley before dawn?
For a few deeply panicked moments, I feared I had left my wallet on the shuttle, but my desperate digging inside my pack finally produced it.
I think I was breathing pretty normally again as I climbed out at the BA check in and they handed me my bag. They wouldn't take any money for fuel.
"What's your name?" my rescuer asked me. Her name was Connie.
Connie handed me her card and asked me to send her a note so that she would know I reached London safely.
Now, I'm winding up my time here in England with my (oh so wonderful) 24-7 prayer buds. I am tired and looking forward to getting home. There are many miles and hours ahead of me before I find myself there, but I expect that all will go well.
I climb into bed tonight still smiling at the outlandish kindness of a total stranger.
I was trying not be nervous. And honestly, I was doing a pretty good job of it.
What's to be nervous about? I have taken the 5 hour shuttle bus from Arusha to the airport in Nairobi several times now. No matter how shocking and disastrous the traffic appears, we always seem to pull up to the grungey curbside of Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in ample time to get checked in and upstairs for tea and a samosa before the flight. The flight is in the middle of the night and the long journey to the terminal is jut a preamble to the rest of the trip.
But something seemed wrong to me on Monday evening. In fact, something WAS wrong.
Walking up the aisle, I asked the driver about my stop at the airport. I felt for the other passengers who still had to make it through the choked arteries of the city to the designated drop-off sites downtown but I knew that this was all part of the deal. You buy a ticket and let them know if you need the airport or one of those other 2 stops. My ticket said "International Airport" right on it and the other travelers would just have to abide the brief detour on their way.
But this little piece of info that instructed to the driver to make the airport stop had some how not been conveyed by the shuttle company to their fine employee.
"What? What? What?" he yelled, "No one told me about the airport!!"
Just about then, the shuttle came to a complete stop and the gridlock closed in all around us. We were stuck, pointed toward the city with no way to get me back toward my flight. At best, if we crept into the city and got ourselves turned around after dropping the other folks off, I might get there in about 2 more hours. But it could be longer.
I started to not feel so calm anymore. I was trying to trust and relax and not freak out, but I can't say I was doing very well, though I looked pretty good (maybe) on the outside.
As I explained the predicament to the nice gentleman across the aisle, the driver started yelling at me that this was MY fault because I was late to the shuttle and so they had failed to ask me where I was going to alight.
"No," I said, "I was NOT late to the shuttle. I bought my ticket last week and told them then that I was going to the airport and I was not late today either. This is NOT my fault!" I added with uncharacteristic firmness. "NOT MY FAULT!"
Sitting in the parking lot that might eventually open up and become a thoroughfare into the city once again, I began to wonder what would happen if I missed my flight.
And that's when the pleasant looking Kenyan woman from across the aisle and behind me spoke up.
"Can I take you to the airport?" she asked.
I blinked and tried to understand.
Well, her partner was going to meet the shuttle as soon as we hit the next major turn. She was going to get the driver to let her out at this unscheduled stop and the car would be pointed the right direction for the airport. She was volunteering to take me a long distance out of her way after the long afternoon of a long journey.
My feelbe mind raced, trying to think if there was any reason I should not accept this offer. But next thing I knew, the shuttle was pulled over and the driver was climbing on the roof to retrieve my bag. I held onto his arm as he held onto my luggage and we crossed 4 busy lanes of traffic in the dark.
The car was pretty flash and nicely cooled by the air conditioning. I slipped into the back, wondering if they were connected to organized crime and might they want to sell my internal organs in some seedy alley before dawn?
For a few deeply panicked moments, I feared I had left my wallet on the shuttle, but my desperate digging inside my pack finally produced it.
I think I was breathing pretty normally again as I climbed out at the BA check in and they handed me my bag. They wouldn't take any money for fuel.
"What's your name?" my rescuer asked me. Her name was Connie.
Connie handed me her card and asked me to send her a note so that she would know I reached London safely.
Now, I'm winding up my time here in England with my (oh so wonderful) 24-7 prayer buds. I am tired and looking forward to getting home. There are many miles and hours ahead of me before I find myself there, but I expect that all will go well.
I climb into bed tonight still smiling at the outlandish kindness of a total stranger.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Sunday, May 04, 2008
A Tale of 2 Parties
A sunny afternoon in a green garden. We had tables set for tea and ladies in smiles and pretty clothes. It was a bridal shower for a fellow international and everything was perfect.
So many treats! Imported chocolate chips in the cookies, amazing samosas, gorgeous cakes and little cupcakes with cute bridal decorations. There was lots of "Oohing" and "Aaahing" and plenty of laughter. No nice touches were left out. The tea sets all matched just beautifully.
I drove back across town afterwards and through the gate to our garden.
In one corner of the lawn, a group of Tanzanian guys and one white husband of mine hunched over the goat they were slaughtering. Colin and Heather were playing soccer on the grass with a couple other young men and another collage of guys were getting the grill ready.
There was meat, meat, meat and more meat by the time the roasting was done. We had bits of it between our teeth and plenty of grease on our fingers. There was a dart board and a lot of joking around. There was a vat of hot chai to follow the crate of sodas and Heather taught willing participants how to play Tick Tack Toe. The dogs munched happily on tasty bones.
It was one incredibly full afternoon, evening and night. I enjoyed it all.
But secretly, I liked the second party, (the one on my lawn with the guys from the local welding shop) the best :-)
So many treats! Imported chocolate chips in the cookies, amazing samosas, gorgeous cakes and little cupcakes with cute bridal decorations. There was lots of "Oohing" and "Aaahing" and plenty of laughter. No nice touches were left out. The tea sets all matched just beautifully.
I drove back across town afterwards and through the gate to our garden.
In one corner of the lawn, a group of Tanzanian guys and one white husband of mine hunched over the goat they were slaughtering. Colin and Heather were playing soccer on the grass with a couple other young men and another collage of guys were getting the grill ready.
There was meat, meat, meat and more meat by the time the roasting was done. We had bits of it between our teeth and plenty of grease on our fingers. There was a dart board and a lot of joking around. There was a vat of hot chai to follow the crate of sodas and Heather taught willing participants how to play Tick Tack Toe. The dogs munched happily on tasty bones.
It was one incredibly full afternoon, evening and night. I enjoyed it all.
But secretly, I liked the second party, (the one on my lawn with the guys from the local welding shop) the best :-)
Friday, May 02, 2008
Foto4Friday
It's Friday here now. I just noticed that on my laptop clock. So I lifted the Mac and took this photo.
Goodnight.
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