Sitting by the Well

The Tough Times

2011-09-05T18:10:00.000-07:00

There's so much I didn't understand. When I first planned this sabbatical almost two years ago, I didn't understand how hard it was going to be to walk away for three months from the church I had planned for and prayed over and struggled with for 7+ years. It was like ripping out a part of myself to leave the people I loved and to allow someone else to be their pastor for the summer months. As I wrote previously, one of the most painful parts of that decision involved hiding the posts of my Living Water Facebook friends. I knew that if I read about a health scare or job loss or end of a relationship, I would want to pick up the phone, send a note, go see them. I would want to let them know that I CARE - as a friend and their pastor.

But I knew enough about the theory of sabbaticals to know that it wouldn't be healthy for me to weave in and out of pastor mode. It would be too tempting to override whatever the other pastor - Rev. Trish Winters - was trying to do with them. It would derail her attempts to be their pastor and my attempts to find out what a sabbatical is and why I needed one. So I made a clean break. What made this even more difficult in my situation is that my mother-in-law and sister-and-brother-in-law all continued to provide leadership at Living Water all summer. In addition, my immediate family worshipped there a couple of times over the summer.

It was especially difficult to decide to stay away on the day that Living Water had a special blessing for my daughter Bethany as she prepared to leave for seminary. This church, her church, gave her a study Bible and a whole pile of cards with well wishes and blessings. She preached that day. As her mother, I should have been there. As the pastor of Living Water Christian Church, I was not. It wasn't a hard and fast rule I was following. I don't think there is a sabbatical handbook that says you have to stay away the Sunday your daughter is being commissioned and blessed for vocational ministry. But I knew it would be hard for me to step into that congregation for one Sunday, to worship, to hear prayer concerns shared, and not want to respond as their pastor. Besides, one of the things that I knew had to happen while I was gone is that the church needed to discover who they are apart from me. What better way than for them to celebrate and commission one of their own into vocational ministry - and not have it be "this is Pastor Laura's daughter so we need to make a big deal out of this."

But going back has been tough, too. I am going to write a post in the near future about all the wonderful things I discovered about myself and life and ministry while on sabbatical, but for now, I'll just say that I truly felt the mantle of pastoral responsibility lifted from me for three months. Please understand - I love being a pastor. I love my church. I don't want to do anything else with my life. But the weight of carrying pastoral concerns, church financial stress, worship planning, sermon writing, etc. all day and all night for seven years had worn me out more than I realized. So for three months I didn't have to think about finding sermon illustrations or solving building repair issues or filling the calendar with fellowship and mission events. I was just Laura.

Last Wednesday night, I met with Rev. Trish Winters, and we began the passing of the mantle back to me. She filled me in on all the important news from the summer - who had been sick, who left the church, who joined the church, who wasn't around all summer, what events were successful and what events were not and on and on. It needed to happen. It was part of the plan. She did it with all gentleness. And when I drove home two hours later, the mantle was firmly back on my shoulders and I felt the weight of it. It feels heavy, but that's ok. I can carry it now. I'm ready for it. But I'm much more aware of it than I used to be.

Leaving was tough. Coming back is tough, too. I have found that it's often in times when God upsets the status quo that the Spirit speaks most clearly. This upsetting of our status quo is what we all needed - me and the church. I needed to let go for a while. The church needed to hear a new voice and their own voice. And now we are back together, ready to share with each other what we learned.

I'm not sure we did the whole sabbatical experience thing perfectly, but I think we did it pretty darn well. Thanks be to God for a church willing to let their pastor go, for a pastor willing to set boundaries, for a sabbatical pastor willing to experiment and challenge the congregation, for church leaders who dream together, for the Lilly Foundation for providing the funding for this to happen, and to God who brought all of it together for our good. Amen.

The Best of Intentions

2011-09-01T06:57:00.000-07:00

There was so much more I wanted to write about in this blog. There are things I didn't get to talk about at all - like my retreat at Tall Oaks where I spent time in silence, in prayer, walking the labyrinth and worshipping at the outdoor chapel. I didn't get to tell about my home improvement project - transforming my home office with its awful 70s wallpaper into a sanctuary space where I can pray and write and surround myself with art from all the places I've visited (this would have been an interesting post since early on in the project I discovered ugly black mold hiding behind the ugly wallpapaer, thus requiring a LOT more work and money than I originally planned.) And, it may seem a strange thing to brag about, but I read NINE books while on sabbatical. NINE books in three months. About half of them were ministry-related; the others were for pleasure. Since leaving seminary, I don't think I've read nine books in a year, and if I did, they were all for sermons or small groups at Living Water. How wonderful to re-discover the joy of reading!

I could also write about the things I didn't accomplish that I wished I had (besides the home improvement project mentioned above that is still underway). I had thought I would find time to try out a writing project, maybe working with a sermon series I did on the fruits of the Spirit a while back. But my head was never in the right place to begin that project. I had hoped to map out a year's worth of sermons and chart a course for the next five years at Living Water. I have fragments of ideas, the beginnings of things but nothing like a complete plan that I hoped to have. I also had hoped to write much more regularly in this blog. But once I got back from Africa, the things I had to say seemed very mundane and hardly worth mentioning.

I had thought I would spend the rest of the summer re-visiting the Africa experience and reflecting on it in this blog. So much happened so fast while we were there - and we didn't have access to most of our photos to post - that I was only able to give the briefest outline at the time. But moving out of that experience into the rest of my sabbatical - General Assembly, my visit to the farm, moving my daughter to Ft Worth, home projects - I never felt able to truly go back to all that time in Africa meant to me. Clif and I are currently looking through all the hours of video he took of the services I preached in Dodoma. Watching them, it seems as if it just happened yesterday. I want to find a way to share all my thoughts, everything I felt and saw and smelled and heard, but I'm not sure there is a way to capture it. I will share some of the video as part of future sermons, but I don't know what to do with the rest.

I hope to post a few more sabbatical-related thoughts in this blog. I want to share with you what it's like coming back. I want to tell you what the sabbatical experience was like for me, how it blessed me beyond what I imagined. But it's Sept. 1. I am back at work, albeit alongside Trish Winters, the pastor who served Living Water while I was gone. It is a time of transition, but I already have a to-do list waiting for me. The sabbatical is over. The memories remain. Thank you for sharing this journey with me.

The Seminary Life

2011-08-28T06:26:00.000-07:00

Well, I've been a less motivated to write in this blog since I have heard from several people lately, "I was reading your blog while you were in Africa..." Yeah, yeah, the exciting adventures of a white, suburban pastor in a Pentecostal African church are much more riveting than the mundane adventures I've had since then. But, for the few of you who are still hanging with me during this sabbatical experience, I thought I'd record some of the less-than-thrilling but no less important lessons I'm learning.

Two weeks ago I drove my daughter to her new home in Fort Worth, Texas so she can begin seminary at Brite Divinity School. We drove all day on Sunday to arrive in time for the 5:00 pm service at University Christian Church called The Search. It was an emergent-style worship service with stations for people to explore after the sermon. After the service, Bethany found some other incoming Brite students, so she felt right at home. (She told me that she went back to The Search last Sunday, and she's planning to go again tonight.) As I was driving home after moving her in, I prayed for Beth and all the new students at Brite. Seminary is a place that can often be a trial by fire. In many ways, for me, this worked to my advantage as it burned away the chaff and left me with a strong conviction and identity in ministry. But I have seen other students wilt under the pressure, unsure of what they believe or even if they believe. I praised God that Bethany is already finding a place where she can go for spiritual nourishment, worship and fellowship. It is a strange but true phenomena that many seminary students do not have a church home where they can worship. They have church JOBS, some which are life-giving and some which are not. But if ever a person needed to be grounded in a church, in a community of believers to hold us and remind us who we are and what God has called us to be, it is during this time of intense study and preparation for vocational ministry. Beth, too, is looking for a job to support her financially during her 3-4 years of study. But I'm very encouraged and grateful that she may also have found a church home.

Bye Baby, Goodbye

2011-08-13T08:21:00.000-07:00

I first said goodbye to her 23 years ago today. She was 2 weeks old, and I was still recovering from the C-section she made me get. But it was our five year anniversary, so we dropped her off at her Grandmother Guy's house and headed over to the Plaza for dinner. I couldn't have imagined a more trust-worthy babysitter. Joann had raised four children very successfully, and I knew she loved this precious baby as much as I did. But it was still hard, hard to let go, hard to hand her over to someone else's care. It was our first goodbye.

Followed by many others. First day of preschool and kindergarten. She wasn't the clingy, tearful type. She bounded off with barely a backward glance at her mother with a lump in her throat. Then there was the first sleepover, a night away from home. The first summer camp. At fifteen she said she wanted to go live with her Aunt Amy's family in China for five weeks. I thought there would be others who would prevent that goodbye - teachers, school administrators, or even my sister who would have to take on this teenager. But my baby girl was persistent (a trait she got from her father), and I found myself saying goodbye once again as I put her on a plane to go to the other side of the world. Just to make sure she was in the care of someone trustworthy, I paid the extra $120 for a United flight attendant to watch over my unaccompanied minor.

That trip triggered a love for travel in my little girl. She went to London with her school band (but there were plenty of chaperons and teachers to keep her safe). I couldn't have been happier when she announced her choice for college - Park University, just down the road from the church I was planting and a short 25-minute drive from home. Sure, she moved into the dorm, but I still saw her at least once a week. It wasn't the same as seeing her everyday at home, but that particular goodbye wasn't so painful.

Then there was the summer she did her study abroad in Copenhagen, with trips to Turkey and Holland. It was only six weeks, and she would be hosted by a recognized school for Americans who study abroad. She would be on her own in a way, but with lots of administrators and teachers to help her out. It was so exciting for her, how could any parent feel sadness at saying a temporary goodbye?

Last year, she found the perfect summer job after graduation - working as a mission coordinator for the Methodist Church in Haiti. Sure, I knew it would be hard work and she would have difficult living conditions, not to mention the emotional toll of living among the broken lives and buildings from the earthquake. But it was only for two months, so our goodbye was a hug at the airport and a promise to Skype as soon as she settled in. I knew that the other adults who were working for UMVIM Haiti would look after this young woman who had never seen or smelled poverty like this. Then I got the phone call from her that I didn't expect - "Mom, I feel God calling me to stay in Haiti." Once again, I thought that circumstances would block this move, but instead every door opened. She came home for a summer vacation, and I knew she'd be home for Christmas. But I didn't know when I said goodbye in August that I was sending her back to a country that would experience a hurricane, a cholera outbreak and political unrest that resulted in rioting and deaths. If I had known, I might not have let her get on the plane.

She survived that year. No, she thrived during that year. She was exactly where she was meant to be, doing work that directly impacted the lives of so many Haitian people. But she knew that a year in Haiti was all her body and soul could handle right now. It was time for her to move to the next thing. Which leads me to today.

She's been home with us all summer. And now it's time for one more goodbye. She's moving to Ft Worth, Texas to begin work on her Master of Divinity degree at Brite Divinity School. She'll live in an apartment and cook her own meals for the first time in her life. She'll make new friends and get a job in a church and come home for Christmas if her church job allows. We'll still see her probably a couple times a year. But this goodbye feels different. It feels more permanent than any of the others. I don't have a trusted adult to hand her off to. She is the trusted adult now.

In retrospect, I guess that's what parenting is - a series of goodbyes. Some of them I didn't even notice. When I look at her baby pictures, I realize I never said goodbye to that adorable infant or precocious toddler. They left gradually and were replaced by an equally amazing preschooler and preteen. And it was illusion that I have "had" her or "held" her. She simply lived here in my care. But she never belonged to me. She was always held by God, belonged to God. I just got the privilege of being her mom.

Goodbye, baby girl. I'm sad to see this version of you slip away, but I can't wait to see the next you I'll meet soon.

Friendship

2011-07-30T05:22:00.000-07:00

This week has been so relaxing and fun. I guess most people who live on a farm would not describe their lives that way. But since the work I did was all optional, I had a great time choosing what I wanted to do and when :-) The best thing about getting to be here with my sister's family all week is that I got to spend enough time here with them that we actually created some memories. I had conversations with my nieces and nephew. We played games and ate meals together. And last night we pushed back the couches and danced all around the living room - the Macarena, Chicken Dance, Electric Slide and the Limbo.

But another great blessing from this week was a visit from my friend Nina. I first met her when we both attended a Bethany Fellows retreat in Dallas in 2005. On the last night of the retreat, we went for a walk around a lake and got hopelessly lost. We eventually found our way back to civilization, but the laughter about the potential headlines our disappearance would cause sealed a friendship. The next retreat, the following spring, was held just weeks after I lost my best friend Kay to breast cancer. I cried a lot at that retreat, and Nina was there to listen and pray with me. The last day of that retreat (in Florida), we went to the ocean. Most of the other Fellows did some sunbathing on the beach, but Nina and I got in the water and rode the waves -jumping into them and letting them carry us toward the beach. We laughed like little school girls, and I began to find healing from my pain.

Since then we have laughed together, cried together and prayed together many times. There was the retreat when she shared with me that she found a really special guy and her concern that she might never have kids. The only retreat I attended without her was the one that happened right after her brother's sudden death. Soon after that, she married her really special guy (and then discovered a while later that she was pregnant). Since she missed the retreat, she decided instead to come spend some time in Kansas City with me. We again spent time praying together, crying together and doing lots of laughing. My son Rob told me that he can always tell when I'm talking to Nina because we laugh like "freshman girls." That time with Nina was so special because we did a mini-retreat, then a road trip to Laura Ingalls Wilder's home in Mansfield, MO. As we sat eating dinner at Lambert's Cafe in Springfield, getting rolls thrown at us, I mentioned to Nina that Branson was just down the road. My west coast friend looked at me, and in all sincerity asked, "What's Branson?" That did it. After dinner we drove down to the Branson strip and spent the night in the Hillbilly Hotel.

When I heard from Nina last summer that she and Glenn had accepted a position at a church in Canton, IL, I knew she would be about an hour away from my sister's house. So we arranged for her to come spend a night here with me this week and have some time together. I had just seen her family at General Assembly - including her adorable toddler Gabriel - so this was just girl time. Nina loved being on the farm, picking berries and making granola. We went into Galesburg to do some shopping, but first decided to stop into the First Christian Church of Galesburg for a quiet moment - kind of a touchstone of the retreats that brought us together. We had lots of agenda for the day - shopping, lunch, manicures - but as we sat in that cool sanctuary with the stained glass windows and the slighty musty smell, we began to talk about our lives and our ministries. We began to cry a little. And then we prayed. We sat in that sanctuary and blessed the saints in that church and all churches - the ones who make the coffee on Sunday and prepare communion and send cards when people are sick and bring casseroles. It became holy ground, kairos time. We never did get our manicures.

The Farm

2011-07-28T07:15:00.000-07:00

Life has a different rhythm on a farm. People have to move to a clock that is set by animals who need food, water and attention and by weather that threatens to rain, hail or beat down with oppressive heat. You can wake up thinking that your day will be filled with activity "x" and crawl into bed 20 hours later without ever having started activity "x". My few days on the farm have not included that much hard work or unexpected animal or plant emergencies, but I've heard enough stories from my sister and her family to know that their lives move to a different pace than my own. Some of the tasks that I have helped with this week have included picking cherry tomatoes, weighing and measuring herbs to sell, picking berries, looking for horn worms that are eating the tomato leaves, watering plants, picking off Japanese beetles (mostly Nina did that task) and making granola (ok, which was for my own consumption). I have also helped with cooking and washing dishes. There has not been a whole lot of "down time" to play on the computer or even read a book.

But it's been good to move to a different pace this week. It's been good to sweat in the heat and fill the kitchen with smells of fresh-picked basil. It's been good to laugh at the antics of the burro and chickens. It's been good to find lots of time to begin and finish conversations with my sister.

I was explaining to my neice and nephew this morning that old barnwood is very popular because people like the illusion of the farm life - the simple life. They like to use barnwood in their suburban homes to pretend that their lives involve sitting on the porch shelling peas or shucking corn as the fireflies twinkle. My nephew Matt said, "That's what the farm life is supposed to be like? We've never spent a day like that!" It's true. But it's also true that there are some things about their life on the farm that are "simple", uncomplicated. Not easy, but simple - connected to the earth and its creatures. It's good to be connected here, if only for a short time.

Off to the Farm

2011-07-25T06:38:00.000-07:00

The only other trip I included in my sabbatical grant proposal beside our trip-of-a-lifetime to Germany and Tanzania was a road trip to Illinois to see my sister. She lives on a farm so it's difficult for her to get away to come see me. I usually get to see her a couple times a year, but our visits are often 24-36 hours, with lots of events packed in like Thanksgiving meals and such. So when I thought about what I want to do on my sabbatical, one of the things I knew I wanted was time with my sister - time without agenda. So today I'm driving to Dahinda to spend the week with my sister and her family.

We've spoken on the phone, and she asked me what I wanted to do while I was there. My response? "Just hang out with you." I'll bring some books and my computer, but I'm really looking forward to just helping her cook and care for the farm. I expect that it will be in those daily tasks that we will have the richest conversation.

As a bonus, my very good friend Nina will drive from nearby Canton to spend a day with me, too!

I really loved our trip to foreign lands last month, but this trip feels more like a sabbatical trip to me - no agenda, no expectations, no set return date. I am hoping for rest and laughter and lots of good talk.

Halfway

2011-07-16T07:40:00.000-07:00

My sabbatical is halfway over. I guess I should have some emotions about that - dismay at how quickly it's passing or excitement that I'll be back at Living Water soon. But I'm trying to live in the moment during this time away, neither looking back nor looking too far forward. My question is, "What does God want to say to me today?" So, I still have 40-some days to listen.
But I'm also trying to take what has already happened - the amazing trip to Germany, the indescribable experience of preaching in Tanzania, the breath-taking views on the safari, and even the conversations from General Assembly - and see what common themes rise up from them all.

I confess to feeling a little bit of guilt that I haven't mapped out the next year's worth of sermon series or figured out my next stewardship campaign yet. But those are things that I would do if I were still working as pastor of Living Water this summer. They are the things I will do when I return as pastor in September. In other words, I have to keep reminding myself that now is the time to set those things aside so I can hear (and ask) the deeper questions. That is the beauty of a sabbatical - the urgent things go away so you have time to hear the important things.

The busiest part of the sabbatical is over. The traveling is mostly done (except for a relaxing trip to Illinois to see my sister and my good friend Nina and a not-so-relaxing trip to Ft Worth to move my daughter to Brite Divinity School). So this is the time when the inner journey will become the work of my sabbatical. Frankly, I'd rather deal with packing and laundry and flight schedules and hotels. Those are chronos things. They have a time to start and stop. They can be checked off the list. The things that remain are primarily kairos things - outside of time, on God's time. This is where the real work begins...

GA Days 4 and 5

2011-07-13T12:03:00.000-07:00

I am officially too tired to remember everything I've done. It's been wonderful to see friends and connect with folks. I've been to some great workshops. There have been a few good moments in worship (not nearly enough for my tastes, but it is a convention after all).

I went to a really fun workshop on praying in color. I hope to bring this back and use it in my next prayer retreat. I also loved hearing Fred Craddock share stories last night. I wish they had just turned over the whole hour and a half to him, but I enjoyed everything he shared with us.

Today has been more business sessions, lunch with friends, a workshop this afternoon and the closing worship service tonight. I'm tired, and I have some new thoughts percolating, so I'm ready to go home and see where all these experiences fit in my overall sabbatical experience.

But first, a stop at the Loveless Cafe for their world-famous breakfast in the morning...

GA Days 2 and 3

2011-07-12T11:42:00.000-07:00

Well, the days are starting to run together, but there are some moments that have stood out. On Sunday morning, we decided to avoid the mobs of DOC folk trying to hear Fred Craddock preach, and we walked across the street from the hotel to worship at McKendree Methodist Church. Good decision. The service was contemporary, urban, lively, and the African American pastor gave a fiery sermon about what to do when we find ourselves in a pit (like Joseph). He reminded us that being in a pit is not an excuse to throw a "pit-y party." Great line! We enjoyed the music and the message.

In the afternoon, we went to a reception for the Bethany Fellowships. This is a ministry that nurtures new pastors during their first years of ministry. It was such a blessing in my life and ministry, and it continues to nourish new pastors. It was such fun to see all my BF friends. We opted out of the evening concert and chose to relax in our hotel room that night.

Yesterday was business sessions in the morning, then I met up with some good friends of mine from back in the day - Shari Allison and her mom Sheila. The years melted away as we talked about people we knew back in the 80s in Des Moines. I am amazed at how strong those connections still are for me. It was a real treat to get to see them while I'm in Nashville.

Then my daughter Bethany and I attended a workshop on global missions. It was simply missionaries sharing the stories of what they do. Wow! I got goosebumps hearing them talk about the lives that are changed through their day-to-day work. It was the best GA workshop I've ever attended. I'm so proud of our denomination for supporting such great work.

Then there was worship last night. I was really looking forward to it since it was billed as an "emergent" service and Brian McLaren was speaking. I think I got my hopes up too much. The service was more a mash-up of weird things - an unsingable Vietnamese song, a rollicking version of "When the Saints Go Marching In", people walking in the aisles waving giant flags, and a group prayer experience that no one seemed to understand or do correctly. Frankly, I was embarrassed. Not only was the service not emergent, it wasn't even well-designed. I kind of hated for Brian McLaren to see it. So, I wasn't in the best mood when he began preaching, but he did a nice job of showing us how we can be a Luke 10 church - using all three stories from Luke 10!

I was pretty wiped out and cranky after worship, but I felt I needed to make an appearance at an aftersession led by the New Church Ministry. It was actually for a new initiative to start high-growth churches - so it didn't really apply to me. But a good friend and mentor, David Shirey of Coolwater Christian Church in Arizona shared his story at the event. David began by being brutally honest about what 9 years of church planting had done to himself and his family. He shed some tears, and I was crying right along with him. His story has been my story - a long string of "defeats" with a few "victories" scattered in just to keep you going. But David's long list of setbacks was followed by a litany of praise for all God has done through his new church. They are not yet a high-growth church, but they are moving forward into meaningful ministry. They completed their first building and have been worshipping there for 2 months. I had asked him earlier, "Did it increase your attendance?" He nodded and answered, "By 40%." Wow. His story was just what I needed to hear, the next whisper from the Holy Spirit letting me know there is something good up ahead...

First Day of GA

2011-07-10T09:46:00.000-07:00

We had a lot of fun riding to Nashville on the GA Party Bus 2011! Watching the Vicar of Dibley on DVD really was a lot of fun. I highly recommend it if you want a good British laugh. But by the time we got to our hotel, we were tired and hot and hungry, and opening worship was about to start. So, we dragged our tired bodies over to the convention center.

I won't give you the blow by blow of the service. They are live-streaming the services and you can go to www.disciples.org and watch them if you want. There were good things, great things, and mediocre things that happened. But the highlight for me - by far - was when they showed a video on the big screen listing all the names of the new churches that have been started in the past 10 years. I knew the name of Living Water would be up there somewhere, and I also knew that I had sent some photos of our church months ago when the New Church Commission sent out an email asking for them. So I was expecting that I might see one of my photos. I did. And it was exciting. It was a photo taken when Stacey was baptized. I smiled when I saw it - such a great memory, a great day. And then a few seconds later I saw another LW photo on the screen - Timothy and Attisen smiling over their graham cracker walls of Jericho they made in Sunday School. I smiled again at that memory. And then a minute later another photo of the skits we did at the All-Church Retreat at Tall Oaks. A big smile broke out across my face. At each photo, I turned to Bethany and said excitedly, "That's Living Water!" And then there was another photo - from a Christmas service a few years ago - Kris was sitting with her cello and Niko was beside her with a drum. By this point I realized that they had used all the photos I sent. And each one reminded me why our church is so special, why the people there are some of the greatest people in any church anywhere (in my totally unbiased opinion).

I was filled with a deep love for this church, for these people. "God," I prayed, "I love these people." What a sweet reminder of the reason I am here. It may be a big convention with moments of greatness and moments of frustration. But last night, the reason I'm here was made clear. This denomination nurtured me and my family and gave birth to Living Water. Despite our other faults and blemishes, I think we're pretty cool for that.

On My Way to GA

2011-07-08T12:32:00.000-07:00

As I've mentioned before, this trip to General Assembly feels very different from trips of the past. This is actually only my fifth time to attend GA, but every other time has been with my family - usually as a part of our family summer vacation. But since Clif was gone almost the entire month of June with our trip to Germany and Tanzania, he couldn't get away for this, too. Rob is in a similar situation. So it's just two of us from my family - me and Bethany - this time. There's always been a bigger family element to GA in the past, too. Clif's brother and sister-in-law used to meet up with us and our two families would spend time catching up over meals and the kids would hang out with their cousins. Then there was other extended family - Tom Smith from our high school youth group would often join us for meals. All of these folks are ordained clergy in DOC churches - or they were.

Tom died last January. Greg and Karen are divorced and Greg has started in a new church job so he won't be there. I've heard rumors that one or more of my nieces will be there, so I hope maybe I see them.

The family piece is missing for me this time around. It feels kind of sad, but I still have so many friends that I am excited to see. Many of these pastor-friends live far away so the only time I get to see them is once every other year at GA. It will be great to catch up and share stories and see how much their kids have grown. And then there's the party bus. You read that right - the party bus. Originally, I was supposed to drive to Nashville with Bethany and another pastor-friend, Suzi Goldt. But then another friend of ours, Suzanne Kerr, heard we were driving and said, "You should join our group. We're going in a church van. We'll have snacks, and I'm bringing the DVD set of the Vicar of Dibley." That sounded like a lot of fun, so we dubbed it the Party Bus GA 2011. A group of about 8 of us - pastors and seminary students - all riding from the KC area to Nashville. Should be a wild time, what with the Diet Dr. Pepper and PBS programming on board :-)

Because I am on sabbatical and paying special attention to what God wants to say to me, I feel like there's something else I will get from the GA experience this year - as if there's a reason that all the other things I rely on to distract me aren't available this year. I'm not sure what. I never know what it is that God is up to. I stumbled on a blog from another woman pastor yesterday, and the things I read there have me asking some big questions about my own ministry. I'm taking these questions - this sense of a shifting landscape for American Christianity and what it means for me and my denomination - all of this is going with me to Nashville. I expect that God will address these questions in unexpected ways. It won't necessarily be in a worship service or workshop. It will more likely be in a casual comment made by someone I barely know as we pass in the hallway between sessions. But it will hit me like a knock upside my head. It probably won't be a complete answer - God almost never gives me complete answers. It will be just a glimpse at something, just a hint, just a whisper of what is to come. Past experience tells me that it will be enough. I won't understand it, but it will be enough to keep me moving in the direction the Spirit is calling me to move. Kind of like a cosmic game of Marco Polo.

And that's all I expect from GA this year.

Visiting Church

2011-07-04T06:58:00.000-07:00

I knew that one of the most challenging things about being on sabbatical was going to be negotiating Sunday mornings. As I explained in my going-away sermon at Living Water, I have had a church home for as long as I can remember. I have always had a place to be on a Sunday morning where people knew me, where I belonged. Sure, on vacation we would visit churches wherever we happened to be, and there were even occasional Sunday mornings where we found ourselves in town while on vacation so we would visit another KC church. But these three months are the longest I've gone without a regular church home to call my own.

The month of June was highly unusual. As it turned out, we were traveling (on planes) for two of those Sundays. The third Sunday was spent at Beroya Revival Temple in Dodoma - the church where we worshipped five times in one week (so I still worshipped more in June than a "normal" month!). The last Sunday was our day in Ngorongoro Crater, so I did my own worship/prayer time on the drive down into the crater.

Which brings me to yesterday - our first sabbatical Sunday where we had to decide where to worship. Our son Rob has been a part of a new church called Reach that meets at Homer's Coffee House, the place where he works. Rob asked us to go to Reach with him, so that's what we did yesterday. Whenever I go to a new place to worship, I try to pay attention to how a visitor feels walking in for the first time. Yesterday was a first for me because the coffee house is actually open on Sunday mornings while worship is going on. They put signs on the doors giving people a "heads up" (the actual words on the sign) that a church service is going on. The signs let people know they are welcome to join the service, or they are welcome to come in and get coffee and leave. I thought that was a helpful way to get past the awkwardness of operating a business while a church service is going on.

I will admit, going into the service, my heart wasn't really in it. I don't know what it was. Maybe I'm still fighting jet lag. Maybe I'm feeling disconnected from the Church right now. But I can't say that my heart or mind was in the mood to worship God. Then the music started - just a guy and a guitar. The songs were all familar. As I sang them, the words began to take meaning. Images of all I had experienced over the last month began to run through my mind - remembering the people at Beroya and the songs of praise they sang, remembering the beauty of the Serengeti, remembering the huge churches of Germany where people have gathered to worship for hundreds of years. Suddenly, it became easy to sing, "How Great Is Our God." Perfunctory worship became real worship.

This is what I try to tell people all the time. If we make decisions based on what we are feeling at any given moment, we will be led astray. But if we make decisions based on what we know God wants for us, the feelings usually follow, often stronger than we anticipated. It was good to be reminded that God only needs for me to show up and give what I have, no matter how small, to make something meaningful out of it.

Worship was good. I learned things from the sermon. I met new people and discovered common interests. I realized that even though I might be away from my church, I can still connect with the Church. Which is what I will do next Sunday in Nashville, too. God will be waiting for me to show up.

Reality Bites

2011-07-02T05:53:00.000-07:00

Well, the fantasy is over. My trip-of-a-lifetime came to an end with jet lag, piles of laundry and an infuriating encounter with the USPS in which they informed me that they "sent back" the month's worth of mail I had asked them to hold while we were gone. So now instead of wondering which restaurant to eat in or which exotic animal we will see next or what to wear to a worship service in Tanzania, I am left wondering which check-out line looks shorter at Price Chopper. I knew it would happen, but it still stinks to be back in the real world.

The big task ahead for me is what to do with everything I experienced on the trip. There are souvenirs to display and use and hundreds of photos to sort through and even hours of video to edit. But more importantly, what does God want me to do with all these memories and emotions that I've experienced these past four weeks? I was clear from the beginning that, even though there would be elements of "vacation" on this trip, the purpose was not simply to see new places. There are things I am meant to learn from all that happened. There are ways I am meant to change. That process is beginning, and will continue through the next two months as I think about what I will bring back to Living Water from this trip - not souvenirs, but a changed perspective, a renewed passion for ministry.

While I do this internal work, I will also be preparing for my next adventure, a trip to Nashville for the General Assembly of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). I am very excited to make this trip with my daughter Bethany, her first as a seminary student (to be). I will also get to hang out with Suzi Goldt, one of the coolest pastors I know. But I am most excited about reconnecting with pastor friends who I only get to see every other year. This time together always feels more like a family reunion than a business meeting.

There will be some sadness for me this year, too, as I miss my good friend Tom Smith. One of the highlights of past GA gatherings was seeing Tom and sharing funny stories about our youth group days back at Park Avenue Christian Church in Des Moines, IA. I will grieve his passing again as I scan the crowds hoping to see his face. But I am making plans to meet up with some others from Park Avenue who now live in Nashville so we can share memories of Tom and our time together.

I think God might still have some things to show me...

Germany Reprised

2011-06-28T22:39:00.000-07:00

Clif and I arrived in Frankfurt yesterday after making our way from Kilimanjaro airport via two stops - Dar Es Salaam and Amsterdam. We were pleasantly surprised that we were able to sleep for 4-5 hours on the longest flight.

We checked into our hotel, took a quick nap and shower and then met Rob and Niko in the lobby. They met us with lunch, a doner. This is a German street food that had become the primary food source for the boys as they traveled around. It's sort of like a gyro - rotisserie meat that is shaved off and put on flat bread. But the meat isn't seasoned like a gyro, and the sandwich includes a slaw salad and garlic sauce. It was very tasty, huge, and cheap. We think it would be a hit in the U.S., so we're looking for investors in our doner business :-)

Then we drove to the main square in Frankfurt and spent several hours walking around. It was very hot - the hottest day we've had on this whole trip. We ducked into every church we saw mostly because they were cool. We met up with Ingrid and Hans for dinner, and enjoyed our last German meal before we said our goodbyes and headed back to the hotel.

It was very strange being back in Germany. We had a brief moment of culture shock when we had to pay $4.50 US for a Coke from the hotel vending machine. We paid $.33 US for a cold Coke in Tanzania. But other than that, it seemed like we were still on the European part of our trip - almost like the past two weeks in Africa was a dream. We're so glad we got to see the Kremsers again, and having a good night's sleep before we fly home was great, but it was kind of surreal to be back here.

So assuming our travels home are uneventful, this likely ends the travelogue part of my sabbatical blog. But my plan is to revisit some events of the past three weeks and include some more photos as I continue to process this trip in upcoming weeks. If you've enjoyed reading this blog, I hope you will continue to read and see if I can begin to make some sense of all God has shown me.

The Miracle

2011-06-28T12:29:00.000-07:00

I don't know what constitutes a miracle. I feel as though this entire trip has been one long miracle. I can't even go back and trace the steps that led me to this place. How did I become friends with a pastor in Tanzania? How did we end up with a German son and his parents who have become good friends? How did a group of people who've never met me think that it would be a good idea to send me to see these German and Tanzanian friends, and go on a safari just for kicks? I know that there were little decisions I made along the way - to answer the first email from Tanzania, to agree to host an exchange student, to fill out the grant application - but the sum total of those little decisions should not add up to what I've seen and done in the past three and a half weeks.

So in the middle of this giant miracle filled with other big miracles, a little miracle happened that surprised even me. You see, when we found out about the grant, when this fantasy trip became a reality trip, we began to figure out what we would see and do while in Tanzania. My husband Clif realized that we would be very near to Mt Kilimanjaro, but our safari tour wouldn't actually take us close enough to see it. He LOVES mountains, and has climbed many of them in Colorado, so he really wanted to see Kilimanjaro - the tallest mountain in Africa. We called the safari company, and they said, "Well, I guess the guide could take you to Moshi on your last day. If you had any chance of seeing the mountain, it would be from that area. Of course, it's very difficult to see it because it's usually covered with clouds." But we went ahead with the itinerary change so that we would have the possibility of seeing the mountain.

When we met our guide Alex, he asked us about the trip to Moshi because it wasn't a usual request. Clif explained how much he loved mountains and how much he really wanted to see Kilimanjaro because he didn't know if he'd ever get back to Tanzania. Clif acknowledged, however, that the likelihood of seeing it was low. Alex laughed and said, "I am thinking you will see it." But we all knew it wasn't likely.

Throughout the week, we laughed about it - offering to buy Clif a postcard with Kili so he could say he saw it; telling him to take a photo of where the mountain should be if the clouds weren't there and then Photoshopping in someone else's photo of the mountain. Alex laughed along with us, telling Clif he really hoped he could see it.

Anyway, we drove all the way to Moshi yesterday only to discover that the mountain was completely covered in clouds. Clif was disappointed, and Alex was disappointed, and I felt bad for both of them. We'd had a lot of fun teasing Clif, but we all knew how much he wanted to see that mountain. Clif said, "That's ok. We'll do a little shopping in Moshi and see the mountain on the way back to the airport." We found one little shop in Moshi, bought some last-minute souvenirs, and climbed back into the jeep. As we drove, we scanned the clouds for any encouraging sign. And then I saw some hope - a little patch of blue sky. "Look! I see blue sky! If there's blue sky then the clouds are parting a little bit." With each mile we drove, Clif and I would say, "maybe.." "I think I see...oh no, it's just another cloud." Finally I said, "Wait, I think I see something."

Alex said, "Should I pull over?" We said, "Yes!" Clif jumped out of the jeep and started shouting, "I see it! I see it!" Alex ran over to him, and Clif hugged him. Clif was shouting, Alex was laughing, all of us were celebrating and marveling at this gorgeous mountain. We saw the very top of it - the snow-covered peaks - but the middle remained covered in clouds. Still, when you're talking about mountains, it is the peak that matters :-)

Of all the moments I've had on this trip - too many to even mention - it may be that moment that I'll remember most. It was a small thing, seeing a mountain peak. But it mattered to Clif, so it mattered to me, and it even mattered to our guide who wanted us to see everything we wanted to see in Tanzania. When Clif and Alex jumped out of the jeep and realized they could see the mountain, they hugged each other. And Alex laughed with joy because Clif's joy was contagious. And I laughed at both of them. Maybe it doesn't strike anyone else as a miracle, but it was unexpected and unearned and a gracious and beautiful gift - just the kind of thing God loves to do. If we hadn't found that little shop in Moshi and spent 15 minutes there, we wouldn't have been in the right place to see the mountain top for the few brief minutes it was visible. As I explained the idiom to Alex, it was "the icing on the cake." All month long we've had the cake, a sweet, lovely cake. But seeing that mountain, seeing my husband hug our Tanzanian guide as they both laughed with delight, that was the icing.

Last Day of Safari

2011-06-26T06:07:00.000-07:00

We woke up to an absolutely incredible view of Ngorongoro Crater outside our lodge this morning. After breakfast, we drove down into the crater for our last day of safari. Tomorrow we will drive around Arusha and Moshi (Clif is hoping for a glimpse of Kilimanjaro through the clouds), then to the airport to fly to Germany.

While in the crater, we saw the last animal of the Big Five - a rhino! Apparently, they are very difficult to see. There are only 25-30 of them in the crater, and less than 5,000 of them on the planet. We didn't get very close to him, but we definitely saw him.

The most exciting thing we saw today, other than the gorgeous scenery, was a group of lions who decided to wander in and out of all the parked safari vehicles who were there to watch them. One lion came right up next to our jeep and decided to lay down under the left front tire. Everyone else was taking photos of her, but we were a little concerned since we couldn't move until she decided to leave. Fortunately, she didn't stay too long.

We are back at Ngorongoro Farmhouse tonight. We're doing all the mundane, night-before-you-go-home kinds of things like re-packing our suitcases so they're ready for the airport. In many ways, I am sad to see this journey end, but I have seen and experienced so much that I don't think I could take many more new and wonderful experiences. I had my own time of prayer this morning - worshipping the Creator at the crater - and I couldn't even find the words to thank God for all the beauty I've seen, all the things I've done these past few weeks. My heart is so full that I'll need some time to sort through all of this. I think the processing will come in future weeks and months as these experiences begin to connect with my "real" life. For now, I am just living in the moment, so incredibly grateful.

Animal Planet

2011-06-25T10:48:00.000-07:00

I've never really been much of a zoo person. I don't have anything against zoos; it's just that most trips to the zoo (in any city) are disappointing. The animals are tired and resting or hiding in a corner. So I wasn't sure that I was going to enjoy a safari - long drives to see animals. But these animals are roaming around in one of the largest national parks on the planet. You can drive for hours before you happen to come upon them in their natural habitat. And then you find them doing the things they do in the wild! Today felt like we were living a television special on the Animal Planet.

We encountered a huge group of water buffalo crossing the road, so we just stopped the jeep and watched them for a while. They seemed somewhat interested in our presence, but they didn't bother us. Then we saw a large group of banded mongoose. They ran across the road and in and out of the grass for quite a while. But the big excitement came when we saw a group of elephants make their way to the watering hole. They walked in a single file line to the water, and when they got there, they spent a long time drinking and splashing water on themselves. I've seen elephants do that before in zoos, but these were real Serengeti elephants, and it was so cool to watch them splash around in the water. As we were getting ready to go to the picnic area for lunch, we saw the most exctiing thing we've seen on the safari. Two cheetas were sunning themselves on a rock. In the distance, some Thompson gazelles were munching on grass. A bunch of jeeps stopped to see if anything would happen. Sure enough, the cheetas got down from the rock and began moving through the tall grass. they moved so quietly that the gazelles had no idea that cheetas were coming up right behind them. All at once, the cheetas pounced, and the gazelle took off running. The two cheetas tried to corner him, but he got away. It was very thrilling to see it happen in front of us. I'm glad for the gazelle's sake that he got away, but we read a statistic at the information center that said that a baby cheeta only has a one in twenty chance of survival, so I actually felt kind of bad for the cheetas. They may be the fastest animal on earth, but they don't always get lunch.

As I was watching all of this, I couldn't help but think of Dave Ramsey and his illustration of cheetas and gazelles :-) (I thought of you especially, Jen and Cliff)

We left Serengeti and drove back over the bumpy road to the rim of Ngorongoro Crater. The lodge we area staying in is a huge change from our tent lodge of the past two nights. First of all, there's running water - even hot water - and a flushable toilet! This is really a fancy lodge that has an incredible view of the crater. We'll be going down into the crater tomorrow for our last big game drive. The main animal we want to see is the rhino, but we also hope to see flamingoes.

This whole experience is so much greater than I expected it to be. It's really difficult to express how much we're enjoying each day. I'm trying to take it all in, but it feels overwhelming. I find I'm spending a lot of time telling God "thank You!" I'm even more amazed at what an amazing Creator we have. Tomorrow we'll worship on the Ngorongoro Crater.

What's Gnu

2011-06-24T06:21:00.000-07:00

I remember a book I read as a child that talked about an animal called a gnu. I just found out that gnu is another name for wildebeest, but it's much more fun to say and use in puns :-) So I will tell you what's gnu today.

The tented camp where we are staying is the coolest thing. Our tent has a queen size bed with a mattress and comforter, and we also have end tables and a wardrobe to hang our clothes. There is a zippered flap that separates the bedroom from the bathroom part of the tent. In the bathroom area, there is a sink with a small mirror. The staff supplies you with a thermos of hot water (which is so well-insulated that it stayed hot all night) and a pitcher of cold water. You put the stopper in the sink and add hot and cold water until you get the temperature you like, then you can wash your hands and face. If you want a shower, you tell the staff when you would like it, and they bring a bucket of hot water and pour it into a bladder that is hanging outside the tent. You step into the shower area, which has flaps to make it separate from the sink area, and take a very quick shower. When Clif took his last night, I asked him if he had enough hot water. He said, "yes," Then a voice from outside the tent said, "Would you like more hot water?" It was a little disconcerting to hear that someone was waiting outside our tent to see if we needed more hot water for our shower, but they just want their guests to be comfortable. Then there is another area separated by flaps that is the toilet area. There is an actual toilet seat that you can sit on, but first you must reach down and pull out some kind of lever that "opens" the seat. Without giving you more details than you want, let's just say it's basically a waterless toilet. There is a kind of "flushing" mechanism that will make the toilet paper go down if you pump it several times. I really shouldn't complain. On this trip, I have had to use a squat pot at some rest areas and pour water from a bucket to make it "flush", so this is pretty luxurious. And it's light years better than the outhouses at Clear Creek Camp. But still, on this trip of a lifetime, it's a little "primitive."

However, the staff has a reception tent set up with couches, chairs, lamps, a re-charging station for electronics and a bar! They use solar energy to keep things refrigerated, so I had a cold drink after the dusty day on the road. Then we went to dinner in the mess tent. There were linen tablecloths, china and silverware and a lovely meal of pumpkin soup, fried fish, mashed potatoes, carrots and peas and fresh-baked bread. They also served lemon cheesecake for dessert.

I've never had an experience quite like this. On the one hand, I'm sleeping in a tent without running water and with only a few small solar powered lights. On the other hand, I'm in the middle of the Serengeti eating on fine china! So, I really have no complaints. It's just very interesting.

We went out in the park today and finally saw a leopard. We actually saw three - a mama and two cubs. Then we saw a pride of lions taking a nap. We also saw some jackals for the first time, and lots of other animals we have seen before - but they are still cool. When we stopped for lunch at the Visitor's Center, we saw some very large rodent-like creatures which we learned are called hyrax. We referred to them as ROUS (Princess Bride reference). We passed a couple of safari jeeps with families, and the kids were sitting in the back reading magazines. Clif and I looked at each other and shook our heads. If we ever brought kids all the way to Africa to see the Serengeti, we'd make sure they actually saw it :-)

We really like our guide Alex. He knows a lot about the animals in the park, and he's very good at spotting them from a distance. Clif asked him today why he wanted to be a safari guide. He answered, "When I was growing up, I thought, 'I want to work with white people.' So the only jobs where I can do that is in a hotel or on tours." This answer really threw us. As I posted earlier, I was uncomfortable with seeing all the white tourists being waited on by all the African workers. I have been careful all week to refer to the clients of the safari companies as "tourists" and not "white people". But the term Alex used was "white people", and he used it in a way that had a positive meaning (for him). The Swahili word to describe us is mzungu - one who goes in circles, an aimless wanderer. I think that probably describes us best. People with a lot of money who come to Africa and wander aimlessly. But for some Tanzanians like Alex, that's a good thing..

Serengeti

2011-06-23T07:50:00.000-07:00

First of all,I need to do some corrections. The place we visited today was Oldupai Gorge - not Olduvai as I wrote earlier on Facebook. We found out that some European wrote the name incorrectly about 100 years ago in some scientific journal, and we Europeans have been saying it wrong ever since. Oldupai is the Massai name for a plant that grows in the area, so it is Oldupai Gorge. Got it? Next, I also said we'd be seeing the oldest human footprint. After looking around the little museum there, I learned that the footprint was the oldest humanoid footprint (not from homo sapien), was made about 3,000,000 years ago, wasn't even found in Oldupai Gorge (but a short distance away), and you can't even see the actual footprint because they re-covered it so it wouldn't erode! But we did read all about it, and we saw a plaster cast of the prints. There was lots of information and photos of Louis and Mary Leakey. As I walked through the museum, I kept remembering the National Geographic films I used to watch about the Leakeys in my fifth grade science class. The theme music kept running through my head.

Next correction - I got one of the Big Five wrong. They are lion, rhino, water buffalo, leopard, elephant. We have now seen three of them because we saw the water buffalo today.

Oh, and I forgot to tell some things about the place we stayed two nights ago - the permanent tents. Our tent was quite a way from the dining hall/reception area and the walkway was sand so our luggage wheels wouldn't work. The porters picked up our bags and carried them on their heads! It was amazing (I took a photo that I'll post later). Also, since there were wild animals around, the lodge hired Massai "warriors" to walk us to and from the dining tent, carrying a bow and arrow for our protection.

The hotels and lodges here have a wonderful way of dealing with tips for all the staff people. There is a tip box when you check out, and you are welcome to put as much money in it as you like. The tips are then divided up among all the staff. It is so much nicer than rummaging around for small bills to give to everyone. I wish we would adopt this in American hotels!

Last night was our favorite place we've stayed while on this trip. The Ngorongoro Farmhouse has a working vegetable garden, lush tropical plants, a coffee plantation, comfortable guest cottages and excellent food. We will get to stay there again, on our last night in Africa.

Today we drove through Ngorongoro Conservation Area (a lush, tropical rain forest) to get to Serengeti National Park (a semi-arid savannah). We could almost have been on two different planets today as much as the scenery changed! We drove for a few hours on the bumpiest road I've ever been on, saw a few animals, and then we settled in to our accommodations for the next two nights - a tent in the middle of the park. This temporary tented lodge moves every 3 months so it doesn't leave any permanent mark on the landscape. There is no running water, but they will get you a bucket of hot water when you want to take a shower. There is a toilet in the tent, but it's basically outhouse-style. Still, it's pretty luxurious for being miles from civilization.

Which brings me to my last point - how I'm able to blog. My husband got an international data plan for the iPad (owned by Church of the Resurrection) to see if they could use it on future mission trips to Malawi. Turns out, even out here in the middle of the wilderness, we are connected :-) I'm feeling a little guilty about it, but only a little. We're still able to sit here in our bed and hear all the wildlife around us. And I'll "rough it" enough later with my lukewarm bucket shower...

Safari - Lake Manyara

2011-06-22T08:46:00.000-07:00

This whole safari thing is a fluke. When I wrote the grant application, I mainly was looking to come to Tanzania to meet Erasto. But, since I didn't think I would get the grant anyway, I figured I might as well include a Tanzanian safari. But the thing is, I didn't know anything about safaris. I just researched enough to find a reputable company and get a price quote. And now, here we are, on a safari that we're learning about as we go.

And I have to say, if I had known how awesome it is, I would have been even more excited when I found out I got the grant! We thought the whole point was seeing wildlife - which we've certainly seen, and it's been great - but the real treat is the scenery. We've seen mountains, plains, a huge salt lake and a jungle, just in the first two days. And the lodges have been an experience all by themselves. Last night was in a tented lodge, and tonight is our own private cottage on a coffee plantation.

I must say, however, that I am more than a little uncomfortable with the fact that all the clients in the safari vehicles and the lodges are Americans and Europeans and all the guides and lodge workers are Africans. It feels very...colonial. But I keep reminding myself that tourism is an important part of the economy here, and at some level the Tanzanians who serve us are glad we're here. I just can't help but wonder, "how many of the people who work at a lodge have actually been on a safari?" My guess is, not too many.

But everyone is very gracious and welcoming, and we feel so grateful to see this amazing country. We're heading to Serengeti tomorrow, so we'll probably be out of internet range for a few days. I'll blog more about what we see when we're connected again.

Safari - Tarangire

2011-06-21T08:34:00.000-07:00

Today we woke up in Arusha, at the Ahadi Lodge, and had breakfast there before our guide Alex picked us up. We drove in our safari vehicle - a Land Rover with a pop-up roof - and went to Tarangire National Park. This park is not as well known as Serengeti, but we saw all kinds of animals there, and the scenery was pretty fantastic, too.

We saw wildebeests and zebras right away - they are plentiful in the park - but we soon saw giraffes, water bucks, and elephants. We saw a LOT of elephants. I thought they might be kind of rare, but they were everywhere. At times they were only a few feet from our vehicle, and it was great to see them so close. When on safari, people are generally concerned with seeing "The Big Five" - elephants, rhinos, cheetas, lions, and leopards. Of these, the leopards are the most difficult to see because they hang out in treetops and are very well camouflaged. Our first day, we saw three of the big five - elephants, cheetas, and lions! I've seen all these animals in zoos, but there is something so exciting about seeing them in their natural environment. We also saw all kinds of interesting birds, including some big eagles. Clif took almost 200 photos today. We'll try to weed them down to the very best ones before we make you look at all of them :-)

Our lodge tonight is a permanent tented lodge. We have our own tent on stilts as our room. There is running water (or course, we can't drink it, but we do get a hot shower) and enough electricity to have some bedside lamps. We do have internet here, but we have to pay extra for it. We were greeted on arrival with a wet towel to wipe our face and hands (it's very dusty on safari) and a glass of cold tea. We are now sitting under a big thatched canopy, next to the dining area. Dinner is served at 7:30, so we'll see what they are serving then. Until then, I'm just sitting here and watching some zebras and wildebeests wander by as the sun sets ...

Sabbatical Trip - Phase Three

2011-06-20T21:16:00.000-07:00

We woke up early this morning to pack up and load our bags on the plane. Because we were staying at the MAF Guest House and flying out on a MAF plane, they told us we could just bring our luggage over to the plane in the hanger at 7 am. As we rolled our luggage over to the hanger, we met Erasto and Nessie. They had come to help us and say goodbye. Erasto was wearing the US Soccer Team polo shirt I gave him. It was the only time all week we had seen him wear anything other than a suit and tie :-)

Since the plane we were flying out on was a little 4-seater, everything had to be weighed carefully so the pilot would know exactly how much fuel he would need for the trip. I think before I complain again about how intrusive the security measures are on commercial airlines, I will remember that at least they don't make you stand on a scale in front of the pilot (yet!). After we loaded our luggage on the plane, we walked over to the airport so we could go through "security" - a woman with a metal detector wand. We were a little concerned about the flight because Clif lost his Dramamine pills yesterday, and he usually needs them every time he flies. We didn't know how he would handle this little, bumpy plane. But he took some Tylenol PM as an emergency back-up medication, and he managed to arrive in Arusha with all of his stomach contents intact.

We had to hang out at the Arusha airport for a while before our driver appeared, but then he took us over to eat lunch at The Blue Heron. This restaurant was recommended by Ed and Debra, and the food was delicious! Clif had a chicken slaw salad, and I had a pizza with olives, ham, mushrooms and artichokes. We ate outside, but it is actually cold here in Arusha. I never expected to have to bundle up in Africa in June, but both Clif and I have layers of clothes on to stay warm.

I looked on Trip Advisor last night to read about the lodge where we would be staying. People mentioned that the road to the lodge looked a little "rough", but once inside the gate, it was a lovely place. I didn't think any road could seem rough after the roads we had experienced in Dodoma, but I have to say, this road was actually a little rough. True enough, however, once we were inside the gates of The Ahadi Lodge, we were greeted with a glass of cold, fresh juice and great hospitality. The only complaint is that the electricity is off, and the generator is not strong enough to run the hot water heater - so no hot showers for now. We laid down to take a nap and didn't stir until 2 hours later. The last two weeks have been some of the greatest of my entire life, but we have been experiencing new things every single day, and I think all the mental stimulation just wore us out. People who have been on safaris have told us that it can be as relaxing or exciting as you want it to be, so we'll just play each day by ear. I don't know that I'll ever get another chance to go on safari, so I don't want to miss anything that I really should see. But we are looking forward to seeing the breath-taking scenery as much as the animals, so whatever we see will be spectacular.

I'm missing my kids (and my dog), and I'm sad that this trip is 2/3 over, but I am so very GRATEFUL to God and the Lilly Foundation for this amazing trip.

Sunday Worship

2011-06-19T12:32:00.000-07:00

We arrived at the church this morning to find it all decorated with branches, ribbons and balloons. There was definitely a party atmosphere in the room. Not only was it our last day with Beroya Revival Temple, it was also a day to celebrate four graduations from the University of Dodoma. The worship service itself was very similar to the evening services we've had all week, but they added the element of communion - specifically to honor our presence with them. They used the little glasses and wafers and had ushers pass them among the people. But there were so many people that they had to pour more glasses of juice. That's a great problem for a church to have! There were moments when the room was standing-room-only, even with all the kids sitting on the floor, so my brother-in-law Clifford wasn't too far off with his vision of running out of places for people to sit :-)

After worship there was a brief break to set the room up for the celebration, then the next event began. It seemed a lot like the church service - music and prayers - but there were also snacks and gifts. The funniest part for me was when they told me that since I was a guest of honor, I would get to feed cake to the graduates, I couldn't imagine how I would feed cake to these distinguished men and woman. It turns out that they put a little piece of cake on a toothpick, and then I put it in their mouth. Everyone cheered and took photos. They did the same a few moments later when they fed cake to me and Clif.

They gave us some lovely gifts, and we gave them two banners for the church. We also gave Pastor Erasto an African Bible Commentary - written entirely by African biblical scholars - and a copy of the Disciple Bible Study workbook. We gave Nessie a Living Water mug and some Kansas City rub to make her Tanzanian food taste even better.

After that we took lots of photos in front of the new building. It was a very long day, but our hearts are full of warm memories of our time with Beroya.

The rest of the day was filled with packing and wrapping up details. We said goodbye to Julianne and Ed and Debra back at the Guest House. They were all such a blessing to us!

I'm really fighting exhaustion right now, but I know that this week has affected me greatly. I'm looking forward to beginning the safari so my mind can rest and my spirit can reflect on all God showed me this week. I don't know how much internet access we'll have on the safari, but I may still try to write down my thoughts throughout the week and just post everything when get back to civilization. Thank you again to everyone who has been praying for me/us. I can't tell you how much your prayers have helped!

Celebration Saturday

2011-06-18T09:01:00.000-07:00

Today we spent a quiet morning at the Guest House and got caught up on some email and Facebook posts. At noon, we piled in the car with MAF missionaries Julianne, Glenn and their three kids to go to the preschool for a celebration. The school kids were wearing their best clothes, and the room was all set up for a program. Julianne has been teaching the kids Bible songs and stories in English, so this was also a going-away party for her before she moves to Uganda. We were all the honored guests. There were welcome speeches, some songs from the kids, photos, and then a lunch. The children gave us gifts - an African dress for me and an African shirt for Clif - and we presented gifts we had brought for the school (books and art supplies) and for the kids (candy and toothbrushes). We took photos and ate rice and beans together. The most surprising thing was that the kids all ate with their hands. I wouldn't have thought that using your hands to eat rice and beans would be very efficient, but they didn't seem to have any problem. It is the custom here to have the host pour water over your hands before the meal so they are clean for eating.

After the celebration, we went with Erasto and Nessie to see the plot of land on which they hope to build a church and a school in the future. The location is a little remote at the moment, but it looks like families are beginning to move into the area. We had a prayer of blessing on that spot, asking God to open doors to make this vision a reality that will bless the community there.

Then we came back to the Guest House for a quiet afternoon and evening. I've had some time to think and pray about what I will preach tomorrow, and Clif has been able to rest a bit. This has also given us time to realize that our time here is coming to an end. So much has happened in the past five days that it seems as though Tanzania has always been a part of us. But there are other things we are still figuring out about living here.

For dinner tonight, we were invited to join the MAF families for a potluck barbeque. We had a chance to talk with some of the missionaries who are here. Virtually all of them are from Europe, and it is inspiring to see how they have followed God's call to come here and serve. MAF provides invaluable assistance to missionaries and other non-profits throughout Africa. These dedicated people make sure the planes are always ready for whatever mission needs may arise. It is also great to see how these families form a big extended family for each other. The children play with all their "brothers and sisters" and the parents watch everyone's kids to make sure they are safe. It reminded me that my sabbatical theme is "redefining family."

Tomorrow is our last day with Beroya Revival Temple. It has been such a blessing to worship with them, and I hope that God's name is praised as we gather together one last time.

New Experiences

2011-06-17T12:14:00.000-07:00

Since Clif went back to the Assemblies of God Bible College again today, I had another relatively quiet morning at the Guest House. Ed and Debra brought over our bus tickets they had purchased with the money we gave them. "Great!" I thought. "Now we're all ready to leave on Monday and head off to the next part of our adventure." (ominous music here)

I was invited to eat lunch with a missionary family who lives here on the MAF compound. Julianne and Glenn are from Ireland, and they are preparing to move with the their three kids to Uganda next month. We had a lovely lunch of pumpkin soup and homemade bread. It has been so interesting to see all the missionary families at the compound and see how they form a big, extended family to each other.

Then I went over the MAF office to meet Pierre for a tour. He is an engineer from France who repairs and maintains planes. While I was in the office, I asked the office assistant if I could pick up our refund for the flight we booked out of Dodoma - the one they told us back in February was cancelled (after we had already paid for it and received a confirmation number). The office manager went to go check on it while I had my tour.

Pierre was very nice, and he showed me all the planes and tools and things in the hangar. I admit that I'm not particularly interested in plane stuff, but Clif wasn't able to be with us, and he would have loved it. I did enjoy meeting all the people who work here, however. It seemed as though the MAF staff was from all over the world.

Clif came back in time to meet up with the MAF IT people, so I went back to the office to check on our refund. That's when I found out that the flight they told us back in February was cancelled was actually flying on Monday. "You can still get on that flight, if you want, " I was told. Now, we had begged and pleaded with them to get us on a flight to Arusha for weeks back in Feb/Mar, and they told us there was no possible way because all their pilots would be in training on June 20th. Now, apparently, the training was not happening. So, I stood there and debated with myself. We already have our bus tickets. We can't get a refund for them. We were counting on getting the refund for the plane tickets. But the bus ride would be at least 10-12 hours, requiring us to get to the station at 4:30 am. The plane ride is an hour and half and leaves at 8:00 am. And I had to decide right that minute because the office was closing for the weekend. So, I went with the plane. I hated to waste the money for the bus tickets (and the Lonely Planet guide said taking a bus in Tanzania is a cultural experience you shouldn't miss!), but the thought of 12 hours on a bus with limited bathroom stops did not sound like a fun way to spend a day. So there was lots of scrambling to change our plans for Monday.

Today was also the last evening service - my last "seminar." I decide to end with the story of Pentecost. The people really responded to the message, and when it was over, the pastor called them all forward and asked me to say a prayer of blessing over their church. I was caught up in the Pentecostal spirit (Pastor Erasto says I preach like an African), so I PRAYED for them. When I was done, no one moved or spoke. They all just stood there. Then someone began crying, and another began praying aloud and then others joined, weeping, wailing, calling out to God. I'm not sure if they were speaking in Swahili or speaking in tongues, but it was intense. Eventually everything got quiet again and we had a closing prayer and left the service. I'm not sure what happened tonight, but it seemed as though the people gathered felt the Spirit move. I know I was blessed.

After worship, we went to visit the village well (that Erasto was instrumental in getting built), which is powered by a windmill. It is a great thing for this community, 10,000 families, to have access to safe drinking water, but many of them must still walk a long way to the well. As we walked along to the windmill, little kids came running out of their homes to join us, making a parade. We walked past people cooking their evening meals over an open fire. Their mud homes have no electricity, and most of them have 1 or 2 rooms at most. I didn't know when I came here if I would actually get to experience a "real" African village, but walking to the windmill and well felt very real.

(Note from Clif: You will notice white buildings in the background right and cranes in the background left. That is the University of Dodoma under construction within sight of the village.)

Lastly, we had our first taste of Tanzanian ugali - the national dish - tonight! Nessie made it for us, and she showed us how to roll it into a ball, make an indentation and scoop up other foods. It was fun - kind of like edible Play Doh. The other foods she prepared were tasty and interesting, too.

(Note from Clif: Top right-pasta similar to spaghetti; top left-fried chicken; top middle-oranges pealed and cut in half crosswise; left of oranges-ketchup and chili sauce; below right of oranges-eggs scrambled very finely with spices; below center of oranges-chicken stewed with potatoes and curry; bottom right-cabbage slaw; bottom left-ugali.)

I cannot believe that I have preached four nights in a row. I should be exhausted and drained, but instead I am lifted up. I know that my prayer network has carried me through this week, and I'm counting on them to "bring it home" for my last sermon on Sunday morning. We'll celebrate communion here, just as Living Water will be celebrating it in Parkville.

A Day to Rest in Tanzania

2011-06-16T11:45:00.000-07:00

If you read yesterday's post, then you know that it was a draining day. I'm not complaining. Every experience here is teaching me A LOT, but I was just wiped out. Since Clif made plans to go back to the Bible College today to work on their computer lab, I stayed close to the Guest House and let myself rest. It was just what I needed.

In the morning I did a lot of little things - arranged for our laundry to be washed, got more eggs and coffee for breakfast, and read through my sermon for the evening. I read a book and looked over Facebook posts. When Debra, the missionary with Omega Missions, came by to check on me later, I told her about my day yesterday and how I felt drained. She nodded knowingly and said, "Ed and I have discovered that when teams come in to work in Tanzania, the third day is the toughest." She had different theories about why that might be, but she said that they had seen it over and over again. Maybe it's just that everything catches up with you. For me, I'm trying to be a tourist and pastor at the same time, and it's hard to know what is expected at times.

So Debra took me out to try to buy our bus tickets for next Monday, and then we went to the store to get a few Tanzanian snacks to try (since we always like to sample local cuisine!). The meals we have been served here have been basic things like beans, rice, plantains, potatoes, carrots, etc., but they have all been very tasty. She also took me to an Indian restaurant that she explained was Tanzanian/Indian. The food was different from the Indian food I get at home, but it was quite delicious!

The day of rest refreshed my spirit so that I was ready to worship God this evening! Ed and Debra drove us to the service and stayed for worship. It was great to get to worship with them as well as Pastor Erasto, Nessie, and the rest of Beroya Revival Temple. There was great music again tonight, but my favorite music was the song the choir sang. The choir consists of three women and one man. They do movements while they sing. Tonight, three small children followed them up (I'm guessing they were the children of the choir members), and the children followed all the motions of the adults. One of the women played the drum and sang with them as she nursed her baby (something the Tanzanians - a very modest people in many ways - have no problem with). Another woman, one who was singing and dancing, had a baby strapped to her back the whole time. Just taking in the scene - adults, children, babies, drums, singing and dancing and praising God together makes me smile every time I think about it.

I'm getting the rhythm of preaching with an interpreter, and the people are responding. Three people came forward for a blessing and a prayer tonight. I continue to pray that God is speaking through me to the people of Beroya. I am so very thankful for all your prayers!

Tanzania Day Three

2011-06-15T13:32:00.000-07:00

I thought today would be relatively uneventful after our exciting trip home from church last night. But today proved to be a string of experiences and conversations and events that have stretched me in many ways.

This morning we went to the Assemblies of God Bible College - the school where Erasto studied to be a pastor. We met several students, administrators, and staff people from the school. I couldn't help but compare it to my theological education at Saint Paul. In terms of what they had to work with, there was no comparison (in fact, Clif is going back tomorrow to see if he can help them with their outdated computer lab.) The library had maybe six or seven rows of books, many of them faded and old. The cafeteria food is cooked over an open fire, and they raise their own chickens and pigs for the food! But the man who spoke in chapel today has been studying for his DMin at Asbury Seminary in Kentucky. He shared his doctoral work with the gathered students.

At the end of the chapel time, the academic dean called up Erasto, who introduced me and Clif. Now, I have worked with many Pentecostal pastors and scholars through my work with the Wesleyan/Pentecostal Consultation, and I know that some Pentecostal pastors are not comfortable with women as pastors. I also know that churches in Africa tend to be more conservative. So I wasn't sure how my presence was going to be received. But when Erasto asked me to introduce myself and my husband, I said in a loud, clear voice, "I am Laura Guy, and this is my husband Clif, and in our family, I am the pastor." This was met with some enthusiastic clapping (perhaps mostly from the woman students). But I also explained that Clif was not called by God to be a pastor, but he has gifts and skills with computers and he has a passion to spread the Good News through information technology. "So," I said, "he supports me, and he supports the pastors at the church where he works. That is his ministry." That got a big round of applause by everyone.

Then we had an interesting shopping trip downtown to get Jennifer Hall an African dress (by special request).

Erasto told us that we were expected at the home of a friend for lunch. We arrived at the home and were warmly greeted by the father of the family. The women and children soon appeared to set out food for us.

As we became acquainted, Erasto asked the husband how many children he had. He said something in Swahili, holding up four fingers, then only three. Erasto explained that the man used to have four children, but one of them died. I asked how recently the child died. "One week ago." My heart sank. I felt awful. In my culture, I would never bring a guest to the home of a grieving family.

The mother spoke very good English, and she asked me if I wanted to see photos of the child, a sweet 9-month-old girl named Vashti. The first photo album was filled with photos from Vashti's baby blessing at church. She was dressed in a frilly blue dress and her parents held her and smiled. Such a happy day! The next photo album was from her funeral, one week ago. There were photos of her wearing another frilly dress, but laid out in a tiny coffin. There were photos of her family weeping - photos we would never take because we would consider them intrusive. Lunch was served before we finished looking at the photos, but I made a point to ask to see them again after lunch. It seemed important to remember this child, to acknowledge that there was an absence in the room. Erasto asked me to pray for the family before we left their home.

Walking out to the cab, I asked Nessie how the child died. She said the child had malaria with a high fever. They took her to the hospital, and she was given too much medicine - an overdose. My heart broke all over again for this family. I will continue to keep them all - but especially the mother Julianna - in my prayers.

Then there was the church service tonight. My spirit was drained after the day. I did not feel good about the sermon. My eyes are burning because of all the dust here. But there were more people in the service tonight than last night, and as they began to sing praises to God (and as my prayer network back home started praying), my spirit lifted. I was especially blessed when a young man rose to sing a song he had written, one he said was inspired after the service the previous night.

When I rose to preach, I just began talking without looking at my manuscript (something I never do). The words tumbled out, with conviction and passion, and I never did find out where I was in my manuscript. But the people shouted "Amen!" many times. At the end of the service, Erasto asked a woman to pray for us. She shared how my message tonight was an affirmation of what she needed to hear from God. So God is pulling me beyond the point of comfort. God is reminding me to empty myself so that I can be filled with the Spirit. Such a difficult lesson in a faraway land.

Tanzania Day Two

2011-06-14T21:53:00.000-07:00

So much happened yesterday that I'm afraid I'll leave out something important. In the morning, we went to visit the nursery school that Pastor Erasto has started. We would call it a preschool. There were about 25 children there, and of course, each one was adorable. We took a tour of the classrooms and also saw Erasto's office. There on his wall were the two photos we took of Living Water people smiling and waving. It was another moment of awe when I thought about how God brought us together. And it made me miss all those wonderful faces back home!

We also saw where Erasto lives with his wife and son. It is in one small room. Then the children gathered so I could read them a story. Clif took video of this, and we're trying to get it posted if you want to watch it. The children sang songs they had learned, including a few in English. I think my favorite was "Head, shoulders, knees and toes." I clapped for them and handed out lollipops. Then Erasto's wife Nessie brought out food she had prepared for us. It was delicious! Rice and a stew made with plantains, potatoes, carrots and coconut milk; also some Chinese cabbage, beans and a hard boiled egg. They also served us Coke to drink. It was a wonderful meal.

We went back to our room for a bit in the afternoon, then it was over to the church for the service. The drive to the church is about 30 minutes from where we are staying, even though Dodoma is not very large. We saw the University that is being built. It is very expansive. Erasto said it will educated 40,000 students, and it is (will be) the largest university in East Africa. Ed and Debra said that it was built with some money from the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.

When we arrived at the church, Erasto took us on a tour of the new church which is under construction. Living Water sent money for this church to be built, and all the walls are up and the windows are in. They are still waiting until they have enough money to put a roof on the building.

Then it was time for church! We started with singing. The only instrument was a drum, but the people sang and danced and joy filled the room. There were many children who came in and out throughout the service, but they were all there for the singing. There were only about 20 adults in attendance, plus as many children, but Erasto said that there will be students from the university in future services.

When it was time to preach, I placed myself in God's hands, and started reading from my manuscript. It took a few minutes to work out the pace of waiting for Erasto to translate, but eventually we found a rhythm. I wasn't sure if I was connecting with people or not, but I saw some heads nod in agreement and heard a few Amens. Erasto seemed very appreciative of my message, so I think it went ok. I'm glad the first night is over so that I don't have to worry about what to expect now. It was a great time of worship, and I look forward to the rest of my time with Beroya Revival Temple.

The drive home was a little...interesting. We encountered some students who had blocked the road with boulders. Apparently, they were protesting that the government promised them loans, but didn't pay. Some of them had big pieces of wood in their hands. Erasto tried to get them to let us pass, but they refused. So our driver took all five of us in his weighed down sedan onto a dirt road that would have tested most 4-wheel drive vehicles. There were moments when I wasn't sure we were going to get back to our room that evening, but we finally made it back to a paved road.

All this reminded me that I am definitely in Africa. And God is always in control.

Tanzania Day One

2011-06-13T21:35:00.000-07:00

It was a very surreal moment yesterday to step off the little 12-seater plane at the Dodoma airstrip, and see a Tanzanian family, dressed in their Sunday best, waiting to greet us. Pastor Erasto, his wife Nessie and their son Brilliant gave us big hugs and told us how happy they were to see us. A friend who came with them took photos as we hugged and unloaded our luggage. We piled into a taxi and made our way over to the guest house where we will be staying.

We handed out some gifts we had brought for their family - USA Soccer shirts for Erasto and Brilliant, and a scarf for Nessie. They were very grateful. But we got the biggest reaction when Clif pulled out a new Netbook computer he brought from the Church of the Resurrection and gave it to Erasto. It is the first computer he has ever had. He has been writing and sending all of his emails from an internet cafe. Later, we met Ed and Debra Lloyd who are missionaries here with Omega Missions. Erasto put me in touch with them several months ago, and they have been a huge help in our preparations. They had us over for dinner last night, and it was a delicious meal and great conversation.

We've been here in Dodoma less than 24 hours, but we're settling in very well. The place we're staying - the Mission Aviation Fellowship Guest House - is not luxurious by American hotel standards, but we have a little bungalow-style apartment with a kitchen and sitting area. I'll try to post some photos to show you where we're staying.

Tonight is the my first preaching gig. Erasto has informed me that it will actually be a "seminar" and not a "crusade." I think the difference is whether you have a PA system or not. Since it is too expensive to rent a PA system, I will be preaching without one. The services will be like church services, with music and an offering taken before the sermon. They will start at 4 pm and be over by 6:30 pm so people can get home before dark. I asked Debra if people will have a difficult time getting there by 4, but she said many people are done working by then or they don't have jobs, so it's not a problem. I will be preaching in the old church building since the new one is not yet completed.

I'm not sure what else we might be doing today, but this whole trip was God's idea, so I'm going to let God direct our plans. Thank you to everyone for your prayers. I'm feeling lifted up!

Africa Before Me

2011-06-13T13:33:00.000-07:00

I have never entered into something as unknown as this experience. I have only traveled internationally with well-organized groups. There has always been contact information, daily schedules, experts who know what Americans need when they travel abroad so that we won't get sick or be uncomfortable.

Even traveling to Haiti earlier this year wasn't too stressful because my daughter happened to be the expert who tells all the American groups what they need to know, and she makes all the arrangements. But this is different. Going to Dodoma to meet Erasto and preach is not something well-organized. There are no daily schedules printed out for me. I'm not sure if there will be experts who will know the ways to prepare food for us so we don't get sick. It's not that we're the first western visitors to Dodoma. Far from it! We have had good email conversations with missionaries from Texas who are there with Omega Missions. They have been very helpful, and they have spoken with Erasto about my visit. But I'm not staying with them. They did not make my travel arrangements. It's been up to me and Clif to figure out how to get there (fly to Kilimanjaro, hire a driver to take us to Arusha, fly on a prop plane with Mission Aviation Fellowship, stay at the MAF Guest House in Dodoma, take a bus back to Arusha because MAF doesn't fly on the day we need to get back). It's not brain surgery, but it is a little un-nerving for this "detail" person.

There is so much I don't know right now. I don't know that all our arrangements will actually work out. I don't know what I'll be doing during the days I am there. I don't know what time the preaching crusades will start or end or even where they'll be. I don't know where we'll eat our meals or how we'll get around. But those are just details.

What I really don't know is why God had led us here and what God has in store. I'm trying to focus on that - the wonderful surprises - more than the surprises that appear to be problems. Because if I focus too much on the details, I'm going to miss the big picture. And I'm pretty sure God brought me here for the big picture.

Germany Behind Me

2011-06-13T08:07:00.000-07:00

I've posted lots of photos and written lots of words about the things we saw and did in Germany. It was truly a trip-of-a-lifetime. But I guess when I think about what impacted me most, what I'll take away besides photos, I think it was all the moments when we were spending time with Niko's family, and I thought to myself, "How did this happen? How did I find myself sitting in the home of a Germany family, eating dinner with them and talking about our lives?"

We didn't just travel Germany as tourists. We were escorted around Germany by Niko and his parents. They helped us negotiate every stop, every interaction. They researched and planned what would be most fun to see. We traveled with a German family through Germany. How did this happen?

I confess that I've never had a burning desire to see Germany - at least not until Niko came into our family and began showing us photos of his home. And even then, my thoughts were, "Someday it would be nice to go visit Niko, and see some of Germany, too." Instead, I found myself thrilled at each new city, every new culinary experience. The gardens, the buildings, the history, the churches - all of it was unlike anything I have ever seen. But what made it most fun was seeing it with Niko, Ingrid and Hans. We struggled through conversations each day - Niko's excellent English, Ingrid's very good English, Hans' pretty good English, Rob's so-so German, and my (and Clif's) complete ignorance of German. Every conversation had to be thought out. Cultural sensitivities had to be screened through language. But it worked. It really did. We laughed together and smiled in all the photos. Not because it was expected but because that's how we really felt.

The theme of my sabbatical grant is "Redefining Family." I knew that seeing Niko's home and meeting all his family would, in some way, extend my own family. And it did. But I didn't expect to be so welcomed by all his extended family. As we entered the home of Hans' mother and sister, we saw framed photos of our family Christmas card from 2 1/2 years ago - the one with Niko and our family - in a prominent place in their homes. It seems that they had adopted us as family a long time ago. It just took me a while to realize it.

Churches

2011-06-10T12:25:00.000-07:00

I really shouldn't say that the churches in Germany have surprised me. I mean I took a class on Christian history. I know how the theology and architecture of Christianity have been closely connected. But still, it's a shock to see the ornate embellishments all around the sanctuary. The original idea was the lift the soul to worship God. The thought was that seeing all this beauty would give glory to God and edify the human soul. But honestly, it's a bit much.

Things have changed so much that it's almost laughable to see the gold-encrusted pulpit, towering over the people. There, the preacher would ascend and speak down to the gathered faithful from on high. In case anyone missed it, there was an angel over the pulpit blowing a horn. "This is a proclamation from God, people!"

I smiled and thought, "OK, just once, I'd like to preach from a pulpit like that. I mean, how could anyone fall asleep when I'm raining down a holy proclamation from a shiny golden pulpit?" And then I looked across from the pulpit. Directly across, also lifted up above the heads of the people, are statues of Christ on the cross, a crown on his head. Beneath him is Mary, a sword piercing her heart as Simeon said it would (Luke 2:34-35). How would it change my preaching to speak my words into the lifeless form of Christ, into the broken heart of his mother?

There is much we have gained in having our clergy speak from the congregation. "We are just human, one of you." But there may be something we've lost, too. "These words I speak are not just my own. I must speak them before Christ because they are his words."

Munich

2011-06-10T00:42:00.001-07:00

I have had some heavy subjects on my mind in recent posts, so "now for something completely different." The food here in Germany is hearty fare. This photo shows what I had for dinner last night - an assortment of bread, cheese and cold cuts served on a butcher block. There were, of course, beer and pretzels for everyone, too. This particular meal in Munich is typical Bavarian food, slightly different from German food in general, I'm told. It was delicious and very filling.

Our breakfasts here in Germany have been amazing, too. I knew that our hotels would include a breakfast, but since I've never been to Europe before, I didn't know that breakfast here includes Brie, smoked salmon and even caviar! So yes, we are eating like Bavarian kings and queens. But we're walking a lot, too. Not nearly enough to walk off all this rich food, but a lot.

Dresden

2011-06-08T11:47:00.001-07:00

I guess if there is a theme to these last two days, it is the devastation of war. We are now in the city of Dresden, the scene of the most controversial bombing the Allies did during WWII. The initial death toll was thought to be in the hundreds of thousands. It has been revised to somewhere around 50,000 - but those were civilians, mainly women and children. It is still a great loss of life. The city lost some of its most important and historic buildings, too. Since it is in eastern Germany, it was not rebuilt as cities were in western Germany. It has only been since reunification in the past 15-20 years that some of these buildings have been restored and rebuilt.

We toured two amazing churches. The first, Frauenkirche, was completely destroyed and has only recently been rebuilt. The second was the Catholic Church in Dresden. It had a special chapel with a contemporary Pieta (weeping Mary holding the body of the crucified Christ). The sculpture has become a memorial for all who were killed in the Dresden bombing and fires. The plaques on the walls are written in German, but Niko translated them for me. They say something to the effect of, "We can all be like Mary and weep for those who have died. We can all be like Christ and give our lives for others."

What's been so extraordinary about this day and yesterday at Buchenwald is that we are experiencing this history with our Germany "family." Niko has been our exchange student/son for almost three years now, and his parents are becoming our very good friends. We see what our countries have done to one another, but it does not diminish the bond we have now. It seems as though this is the way forward, the way to peace. I want a world where Mary does not weep anymore.

Buchenwald

2011-06-08T03:44:00.001-07:00

This was one of the things I was anticipating the most. I guess that sounds strange, to say I was looking forward to touring a concentration camp. I knew that it would be emotional. And it was. But so were other places I have seen - former slaves' quarters in the U.S.; Robben Island in Cape Town where Nelson Mandela was held. But this was Buchenwald. Just the name alone creates a heaviness in one's soul. This is the place where thousands died, thousands were tortured, thousands were treated as if they were less than human. If evil had an address, it might have been Buchenwald.

The first thing that struck me was the scale. When the person at the information desk said it would take at least 3 hours to see only the most important things, I knew that it was a big place. Most people can't see everything even in one day. So we saw what was most important. But those places were the places of greatest suffering. When you enter the crematorium, a sign asks you to enter in silence out of respect for those who lost their lives. I didn't need a sign. There were not words for the sight of four furnaces, meant to reduce the dead to ashes after they had already been reduced to skeletons. The were no words for the cellar were the corpses were stored. The air is heavy with sorrow.

We saw photos and objects taken from the prisoners. We saw their faces and their shoes, worn threadbare. Maybe what struck me most was the photos taken after the Allies liberated the camp. It was the first camp that was liberated, so it was the first time the Allied soldiers had seen the true horrors of the Nazi regime. They wanted to make sure that there were witnesses so that no one could come back later and accuse them of making up unbelievable stories. (I thought of the disciples of Jesus fighting the same accusations.) So the Allies documented everything on film and had journalists write it all down. Most important, they had 1,000 people from the nearby town of Weimar tour the camp, see the dead bodies stacked like cordwood, see the emaciated men who were imprisoned there. The look of shock and disbelief on those faces is maybe what will stay with me the longest. "We didn't know," they said. How could they not have known? They didn't want to know. They probably suspected, but the questions were too difficult and dangerous too ask.

What is it that I don't want to know? What suffering is taking place in my neighborhood, city, country, world? What would shock and horrify me if I was forced to face it? The most unsettling thing about Buchenwald is that it refuses to stay back in history ...

Honoring God

2011-06-06T13:32:00.000-07:00

Today we went to the Cathedral in Cologne. It is magnificent. The spires and stained glass and flying buttresses and marble pillars are all breath-taking. Our tour guide pointed out many of the rare and beautiful works of art throughout the cathedral. For an American Protestant, it was beyond anything I had ever seen in any house of worship. At first I was just impressed with it all. And then I was jealous of all the beauty, all the ways these artisans and nobles had chosen to honor God. And then the nagging questions started whispering in my head, "I wonder who paid for all of this?"

The quick answer is the nobles or the church (Catholic church, in this case). But the real answer probably has more to do with how much the average citizens were taxed or "encouraged" to give to the building of the cathedral. So is a building that was created from the meager wealth of the citizens really a way to honor God?

I'm not trying to impose my 21st century American values on the people of a different time and place. I'm asking a real question. There is an unmistakable sense of awe when you see a building that is so incredible you can't even see it all in one visit. The art and architecture truly drew this soul into worship. It would be a shame if this cathedral and others like it did not exist. Today, even the average citizen in Cologne is proud of "their" cathedral. It belongs to the people of that city, and to all of Germany. But in the end, does it honor God? Did it honor God when it was built? There is no doubt in my mind that the craftsmen and artists were expressing love and awe of the Creator in their masterpieces. Does it honor God now? Surely whenever anyone who enters lifts their eyes to the heavens and thinks about their Creator, God is greatly pleased. But what was the real cost? What are the real benefits? I'm not sure that I nor anyone else is qualified to answer, but it doesn't stop me from thinking about the questions.

Meeting Family

2011-06-05T23:32:00.000-07:00

I won't go into all the details about the flights and airports. There were typical delays and bumps along the way, but the important thing is that we landed in Frankfurt and were met by Niko and his mother Ingrid. It was so good to see them! Niko lived with our family during the 2008-2009 school year and he instantly became a part of our family. He came back to visit last summer and went on vacation with us to Colorado. His mother and aunt came to visit him in Kansas City at the end of his year with us, so we got to know Ingrid at that time.

But when we got to his home in Braunfels, we met his other family members - father, brother, grandmother, aunts and an uncle. We were able to see in person all the things we had only seen in photos - his home, his room, and the view of the castle outside his window! His father and grandmother had prepared a wonderful meal for us - roast beef and roast pork, potato dumplings with gravy and a salad. They even made a special effort to have ice for our drinks :-)

We were really fighting the time change and lack of sleep, but we managed to gather the strength to go tour Braunfels Castle in the afternoon. Seeing the marketplace (where our hotel is located) and the castle looming over it made me know I wasn't in Kansas anymore. Our tour guide was part crumudgeon/part comedian. He spoke good English and as he pointed out the subjects in various paintings, he kept quizzing us on our knowledge of history (which we didn't know so well) and our Bible knowledge (which fortunately, I did know well). For this American girl, it was the perfect first day in Germany! We finished off with more food back at Niko's - hearty German bread and cheese and a homemade Black Forest Cake for dessert - and then we SLEPT.

I will try to have more insightful reflections in later posts, but all you get now is a travelogue. Photos will follow at some point, too.

What I Thought I Wanted

2011-06-02T13:26:00.000-07:00

Sara Groves has a song called "What I Thought I Wanted". The lyrics are about people who have experienced real heartbreak, but what they end up with is better than what they would have had if the heartbreak hadn't happened. Those lyrics really don't apply to my current situation, but a part of the chorus does keep running through my mind:

What it was I wanted, what I got instead
Leaves me broken and grateful

I'm still kind of in a daze about the whole Tanzania part of my sabbatical trip. How did I end up going to Tanzania? I mean, I know how. I wrote the grant application, but as I keep pointing out, I didn't think I'd get the grant. And even if I did, going to Tanzania was simply to meet the pastor who had been an email friend for several years. He contacted me through the church website when Living Water was just starting out. I answered his email, and we have been sending prayers, well-wishes and gifts to each other and our churches ever since. But the idea of visiting Erasto in Tanzania seemed like an idyllic way to connect with a simpler way of life - watching an African pastor minister to his congregation for a week. That's what I thought I wanted. A rest-full sabbatical. What I got instead was an excited email from him saying he is so glad I am coming to preach a 5-night "crusade" and a Sunday morning sermon. Six sermons in six days. Preaching to people who live around the world, in conditions I know nothing about. Oh, and with an interpreter. This isn't what I wanted. I didn't want real Africa and real people and real work. I didn't want to get a Yellow Fever shot and malaria pills and the stress of preparing for the biggest preaching gig of my entire life. Apparently God didn't get the memo about what a sabbatical rest is supposed to be.

What it was I wanted, what I got instead
Leaves me broken and grateful

Those words keep echoing in my heart and head, and I think the Holy Spirit is trying to sing them to me, trying to let me know that's what's waiting for me on the other side. What I thought I wanted was a vacation to observe, be an outsider. What I will get instead will likely leave me broken and so very, very grateful.

I told my congregation last Sunday that I will not make it through this marathon week of preaching unless I am literally help up in prayer. I implore you to join your prayers with the prayers of Living Water Christian Church as I humbly bring the Good News of Jesus Christ to the people of Dodoma, Tanzania on June 14 - 19. May God give me words, strength, power and passion, and may those who have ears to hear, hear the voice of God speaking through me.

Hiding Friends

2011-05-31T14:27:00.000-07:00

So tomorrow is supposed to be the official first day of my sabbatical. Of course, that does not mean that things are slowing down for me at all. If anything, the pace has picked up significantly as I try to get everything covered at Living Water and prepare to go on the longest trip of my life.

But there is one thing I still have left to do to close out my church responsibilities. And it's one of the most difficult things I've had to do in order to disengage from vocational ministry. I'm going to hide the Facebook status of my church members from my news feed. Even writing that makes me start to cry a little bit. Facebook has become a vital ministry tool for me. As a pastor, we often don't know about all the little things that go on in the lives of our congregation - birth of a nephew, new job, stomach flu, etc. But Facebook allows me to know all the details (and then some) of what my congregation is dealing with. I am able to post comments or start praying or follow up with a phone call if it's a more serious issue - death of a loved one, hospital stay, broken relationship, etc. Without Facebook, I would not know half of the things going on in the life of my congregation. So I check in every day, several times a day, and pray and post comments when I see a need or a joy that I can respond to.

It makes perfect sense that I would hide those posts and allow Rev. Trish to be pastor to these people while I am gone; it's the whole point of a sabbatical. But the reality is that she doesn't yet know them. I'm not sure she wants to make them all her Facebook friends for the three months of her pastorate. So things will happen in their lives, important things, little things, and maybe no one will post to say, "I'm praying for you; Call me and we'll talk; I hope tomorrow is a better day!"

I tell myself that none of those things happened with my congregation before we all found Facebook. But we have. The truth is, the real reason I don't want to temporarily cut these people out of my life is that they are not just my congregation, they are my friends. I want to know, as their friend, when they are hurting and when they are celebrating. I don't want to come back in September and find out, "My brother died; I lost my job in June; we're pregnant!" I don't want to offer my sympathy or congratulations 3 months after the fact.

In seminary we often talked about setting boundaries, and one of the boundaries that is most difficult to negotiate is whether the people in your congregation can really be your friends. I've known more pastors than I can count who have formed friendships in the church only to have those people betray confidences and turn on them. That hasn't been my experience. Yes, I have friendships outside of my congregation, mostly with other pastors, but the people in my church are my friends. It's going to hurt - a lot - to hide their lives from me for the next three months, especially knowing that many of them are going to read this blog faithfully so they know everything I'm experiencing.

It's all about learning to trust. I have to trust that I am not the only one God has provided to care for them. There are others. So I leave you, my Living Water friends, in the care of God and Rev. Trish. But please tell me everything I missed in your life when I get back!

Saying Goodbye

2011-05-30T06:27:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the official send-off for my sabbatical. I knew that having it on Memorial Day weekend would mean that a lot of people would be gone, and that was the case. Still, it was a good morning full of rich blessings. I preached a sermon that was more personal, more directed at my congregation than probably any other I've ever preached. There was so much I wanted to say - about my need for a sabbatical, about what I would be doing while I was away, about what this opportunity meant for the church. So, it was long and maybe a little rambly, but I think I said the important things I needed to say.

I am very grateful that Rev. Trish Winters is ready and able to step into pastoral leadership at Living Water while I am gone. I know that she can handle whatever comes her way this summer and that gives me a great sense of peace.

My goal was to be able to walk away (well, drive away) from church on Sunday and be done with all my Living Water work. That didn't happen. There are loose ends that need to be tied up - some of them very important things that only I can do. So I will spend some time today and tomorrow dealing with those. But the big work ahead for me this week is preparing what I will preach in Tanzania. This is a task so big that I could not even sit down to begin working on it while I had all my other responsibilities. And it is still a task so daunting that I must give up any hope of "being prepared." Even if I were to spend hours (days) writing out manuscripts for all those sermons, I would undoubtedly find myself wanting and needing to make changes once I get to Tanzania and begin to learn about the people there. So I can only pick Scriptures, themes, get general ideas about where the sermons will go. And then throw myself on the mercy of the Holy Spirit.

One of the biggest blessings I received yesterday was a drawing from my brother-in-law Clifford. He heard me say in my sermon first service that I was really scared about preaching this crusade in Tanzania, that I've never done anything like this before and that I might mess it up so badly that I'll eventually be preaching to empty chairs by the last night. He came up to me between services and handed me a drawing. He said it was a vision of my crusade. In the drawing, I was preaching in a tent, and he said more and more people came each night so that on the last night, there weren't enough seats and people had to stand outside the tent to hear me preach. I don't know that it will happen that way, but I'm taking that drawing with me as a reminder that with God, all things are possible.

New Journey

2011-05-27T12:57:00.000-07:00

So I'm getting ready to go on sabbatical - a journey in itself. But in my case, the Lilly Endowment saw fit to fulfill my grant request for a "trip of a lifetime" sabbatical. So that is the journey that will frame the real journey - my journey to re-discover my call and re-ignite my passion for ministry.

I wanted to blog this sabbatical experience, and I knew that I already had a blog out there somewhere - floating around in space on the great trash-heap of abandoned blogs from well-intentioned bloggers who got bored and distracted after a few weeks or months of writing down thoughts. But I logged on Blogger and - viola! - I found my blog. Actually, it was very cool. I started it (and ended it) with a trip to South Africa three years ago. Seeing those photos and reading about all I saw and did on that trip has made me more excited for the next adventure. So instead of starting on a fresh blog, I thought I might as well just use this perfectly good one (it's only slightly used). It seems fitting anyway. Our lives are not made up of building blocks of experiences, each contained in its own wall of beginning and ending. Our experiences bleed into each other, affecting each other, changing our perceptions of things that happened to us long ago. So what I saw in Cape Town will inform what I see in Germany and Tanzania and Nashville and my sister's farm in Illinois.

If you ever wanted to know what goes on in the mind of a suburban, white, middle class, mainline, American, middle aged pastor's head as she takes a trip to visit the family of her exchange student then preach a crusade in Tanzania then go on a safari (a safari?!?), feel free to read along...for as long as I feel like blogging anyway.

Some of My Favorite Photos - Day One

2008-02-04T06:27:00.001-08:00

In previous posts, I selected photos that illustrated what I was writing about. For this post, I just want to share with you some of my favorite photos I took during our first day in Cape Town, specifically, our visit to the Masiphumelele township.

When we went to the Welcome House preschool, we arrived during nap time. I loved seeing the children sleeping head-to-toe, four on a mattress. Notice that there is at least one mattress next to them without any children at all, so they must enjoy sleeping close together.

The homes in the township were mainly constructed in one day, according to our tour guide, Charlotte. We were amazed that some of them were even two-story structures, although we couldn't figure out how people got in and out of the second story.

I told you that we had aftertoon tea at Zukie's Bed and Breakfast in Masiphumelele. They offered two rooms for guests. By American standards, the rooms might not even earn one star, but they were clean and welcoming, and the hosts were wonderful people. Here is a picture of one of their guest rooms (there is a second bed against the opposite wall, but this picture shows you most of the room). And for $23 a night, including breakfast, you can't beat the price.

A few minutes drive away is the costal town of Fish Hoek, where we stayed in a deluxe bed and breakfast. Fish Hoek was a whites-only town during apartheid, and the homes are big and beautiful, with breathtaking views of the ocean. Near the beach, there is this statue of two white folks in bathing suits having fun. The title of the statue is "Frolic." It's hard to imagine how these two different worlds can exist so close to one another.

How Cape Town is Fighting AIDS

2008-01-29T15:20:00.000-08:00

One of the questions I had while in Cape Town is what is the government doing to prevent the spread of HIV/AIDS? The answer was given to us by Otto, the pastor at iThemba Labantu. He explained that the government's tactic is to "throw free condoms at people." He said condoms are available everywhere, but there is a cultural stigma associated with them, and people are not using them regularly. The bigger problem, however, according to Otto, is that there is no education about relationships and the importance of commitment. He wasn't saying this as a prudish pastor who wants everyone to abstain from sex. He was saying it as a concerned pastor who has seen too many people hurt by casual sex that leaves behind single mothers infected with HIV. He said what is needed is a program to strengthen family ties and encourage people to stay in monogamous, committed relationships. For Otto, that would help stop the spread of HIV/AIDS more than simply throwing condoms at people.

A short while later, we visited the parliamentary office of the South African Council of Churches. I had to use the restroom while I was there, and sure enough, here's what I found by the sink:

I wasn't sure what to think. If the Church in South Africa is a leading voice of education about the importance of monogamy and commitment, then I guess providing free condoms, too, isn't such a bad thing. But if the Church is not a leading voice, then free condoms in the bathroom of an office that is usually locked and only available to invited guests seems like a very small gesture. Of course, I couldn't be critical of the South African Church without asking myself, "What is the response of the American Church to the critical needs of our nation?" Ouch.

Reflections

2008-01-24T07:35:00.000-08:00

I have been doing a lot of thinking about what I will say in my sermon on Sunday. It is very difficult to try to crystallize everything that happened on our trip into a 20-minute sermon. There are so many things that will have to go unsaid, at least for the moment. I'm sure there will be other things that will come to my mind in upcoming months, conversations or memories of things we experienced, that will take on new meaning. I think I will spend the rest of my life sorting through what this trip has taught me and how it will impact my life. But for now, there are a few more things I want to say here on this blog.

I didn't get a chance to tell you much about our hosts at Sunny Cove Manor, the Bed and Breakfast where we stayed. First of all, I must confess that, although this was a trip with a ministry focus, we lived like kings and queens in our accommodations. Sunny Cove is located near Fish Hoek, a beautiful bay south of downtown Cape Town. Here is the view out of our bedroom window.

And here is what Sunny Cove looks like from the street.

And here is the bright and sunny room where we feasted on homemade granola, scones, eggs, sausage, and a variety of fruit and juices every morning.

So, yes, we went to Cape Town to visit the townships and ministries and AIDS hospitals, but we lived in comfort while we were there. The best thing about Sunny Cove, however, is the hosts, Peter and Solvieg Kjeseth. While we were there, they received a copy of a new book called "No Easy Victories" about Americans who helped in the struggle for freedom in Africa. The Kjeseths are featured in the book for the work they did on behalf of Namibia. The forward to the book is written by Nelson Mandela. You can read about them here. They were incredible hosts with incredible stories to tell.

I feel like this blog has turned into a commercial for Cape Town and for Sunny Cove Manor. Truthfully, you would be hard pressed to find a lovelier vacation spot. But for me, the joy of this trip was found in the people we met, and the stories we heard from people in the townships and doing ministry. If you do go to Cape Town for a vacation, be sure to find some time to see the non-tourist side and meet some of the most fascinating people. If God will provide a way, I would love to lead a group on this same kind of trip one day.

Coming Home

2008-01-22T15:55:00.000-08:00

It is a wonderful thing to get an opportunity to travel halfway around the world and experience things you would never get to experience if you stayed home. But part of the price you pay for such an adventure is the odyssey of getting back home. In our case, the odyssey took a total of 33 hours for us to get from the door of our Bed and Breakfast to our own doorstep in Overland Park. We were on three different flights, the longest one lasting 18 hours from Johannesburg to D.C., with a middle of the night stop in Dakar for refueling. Some of our fellow passengers managed to sleep through much of the flight, but Clif and I spent most of that time trying to find a comfortable position where we could snooze for a while.

The only snafu came when had to go through customs in the D.C. airport. We had to pick up our luggage and carry it with us through customs (after waiting for 45 minutes to actually get from the plane to the airport, but that's another story). The customs official asked us the usual questions about whether we had any plants, seeds or fruit with us. We said "no." Then she asked if we had any biltong - a kind of African jerky. I said "yes, two small packages." I had bought some ostrich and kudu biltong as a gift for my son Rob, after being assured that I could bring it in the US. The customs official told me I would have to surrender the biltong, which meant digging through my suitcase, with all my dirty clothes, in the middle of the customs area. The official thanked us for understanding, and told us that if we hadn't claimed the biltong and a search of our bag had uncovered it, we would have had to pay a $300 fine. So, to any of you reading this who are planning to go to Africa and buy souvenirs, don't get any biltong, or at least eat it while you're in Africa.

I realize these thoughts aren't very deep and profound, but the lack of sleep has left me with only enough brain cells to pass along this helpful biltong tip. I will write more tomorrow and post some more pictures after I've had a good night's sleep.

Real Africa

2008-01-20T12:52:00.001-08:00

We have experienced so much here that is real - real people, real history, real struggles with poverty and AIDS. But today we got to see something else real - real worship. We attended the JL Zwane Church in Gugulethu township, and even though we didn't understand the prayers, songs and sermon that were in the Xhosa language, we understood the spirit of the people who gathered to worship God. The people dressed in their best clothes, and the sounds of their voices filled the building and spilled out into the streets as they offered their songs to God. We sang along when we could (they sang the chorus of "It is well with my soul" after a woman shared her testimony), and we clapped along when we couldn't sing. The service was a powerful reminder that our God is in all places, listening to the prayers of our African brothers and sisters just as He listens to us.

As I write this, worship is happening at Living Water. I know that God is present in our church in Parkville, just as God has been present here with us in so many ways. I will have so much to share when I return to the pulpit next Sunday.

After worship we had another real African experience. We drove to Cape Point to see the spectacular scenery, and we encountered baboons who have discovered that getting food from tourists in easier than finding it in the wild. This is actually a very serious situation, and we were warned that we should never give them food, but it was still somewhat humorous to see them wandering around, hanging out where the people are. On our way back to the Bed and Breakfast, we stopped by a beach with a penguin colony. It was so cool to see penguins right in front of me! They are called African penguins, but they used to be called Jackass penguins because they make a sound like donkey.

Tomorrow we begin the long journey home. I will continue to reflect on this trip here on my blog for the next few days (as Internet access allows), and I will begin preparing for my sermon next Sunday. But I already know that this trip has impacted me in many ways, and my life and ministry will be changed because of what has happened here. I look forward to sharing more of my reflections with you in the days, weeks and months to come.

Simon's Town

2008-01-19T13:25:00.001-08:00

Today was a "free day" when we didn't have any group activities planned. Some people in our group spent the day touring the South African wine country. Others took the train and a bus into Cape Town and caught the cable car up to the top of Table Mountain. Clif and I chose to stick fairly close to home, and we decided to take the train two stops over to Simon's Town, an historic seaport town.

We did the usual tourist things - shopped for souvenirs and ate fish and chips in a little seaside restaurant. Two noteworthy things about lunch: Clif's fish was snoek, a local fish with a lot of bones but really tasty; and a sign on the wall encouraged people to allow strangers to sit at your table with you so you could "make a new friend." The fact that the proprietor would also make more money if people squeezed in together wasn't mentioned. We at lunch early, so there wasn't a need for us to share our table with strangers, but the second we stood up to leave, people came and claimed our seats.

The coolest thing we did in Simon's Town, however, was to tour the local museum. It was only open from 10-1 today, so we timed it perfectly and arrived right at 10. We paid the 5 rand donation (less than a dollar) and walked around this small town museum that was run by volunteers. But it turned out to be a fascinating place. We learned about slavery in the early years of Cape Town. We learned about the sailors who came in to port, and the origin of the word "grog." We also learned about a dog named Just Nuisance who was inducted into the Royal Navy, and was even given a full military burial when he died. All of this was very interesting, but the best part of the whole museum was the display about the forced removal of non-whites in the 1960s. We had learned about this when we went to the District 6 museum, but at Simon's Town, you saw it from the perspective of this small town that had always included people from all racial groups. This community worked, played and worshipped together, and many civic leaders wrote letters of protest about the removal and how it would tear apart their community. The display also showed newspaper clippings that helped explain how the forced removals were presented in the press. The people who were being moved were given brand new homes that were twice the size of the homes they left. The expectation was that they would be grateful for the opportunity to go to a new home. What wasn't mentioned is that the new neighborhoods had no schools, no stores, no easy access to transportation, and would require people to travel over 2 hours to get to their jobs. The more I learn about apartheid, the more I realize how complicated it was, and I begin to see how so many people could actually delude themselves into thinking it would work.

One last thing, I felt bad about not being an adventurous eater the other night at Mama Africa, so tonight I ordered springbok for dinner. It was very mild, and (you knew it was coming) tasted like chicken.

The Face of AIDS

2008-01-18T12:57:00.001-08:00

We knew that one of the things we would see here is a ministry that is working with people with AIDS. Today was our day to visit that place. The name of the ministry is iThemba Labantu in Philippi, and it is run by the Lutheran Church. This bustling place of activity has a youth marimba band, a soup kitchen and a workshop where women do sewing and craft projects which they sell to support their families.

But the two ministries that impacted me most were the children's preschool and the AIDS hospital. When we entered the preschool, the children were preparing for lunch. They were singing, "If you're happy, and you know it..." We were definitely happy when we saw their beautiful faces, so we clapped our hands, stomped our feet and "wiggled our bums" along with them. Before they ate, they said a prayer in English and Xhosa, the native language spoken in their township. The school teaches in both languages so the children do not lose their link to their heritage.

After that, we went to the AIDS hospital. The director of the center, Otto, suggested we sing first, so we stood in the hallway and sang Amazing Grace to the patients. Then we went into the rooms and prayed with the people. I prayed with a woman named Gloria. Her body was frail, but her eyes shone brightly. Even though we were separated by so many things - nationality, race, health - we discovered that we both have teenage sons, and we were bonded as mothers. I told her I would pray for God to heal her and give her strength so she could soon walk out of the hospital and go home to her family. I gave her a t-shirt from Living Water, big enough to be a dress on her, and told her that the shirt would cover her as our prayers will cover her. If you are reading this, please take a moment right now and pray for Gloria.

The ride home was along a breath-taking coastal drive with some of the most gorgeous scenery we have seen since we arrived. It is hard to say, however, if the grandeur of that scenic vista could eclipse the beauty of the smiles we saw at iThemba Labantu.

Stories that Moved Us

2008-01-17T13:22:00.001-08:00

Today was the most emotionally exhausting day of the trip. If you've read my other posts, then you know that's saying quite a bit. In the morning, we had a fascinating conversation with our driver, a man named Christopher who told us that God told him to feed the hungry children in Capricorn township. So every school day, Christopher wakes up at 3 am and prepares food for several hundred children who would not otherwise get food before school. He raises the money for all of this himself.

Then we went to SHADE, a ministry that helps men, women and children with various issues involving poverty, health and immigration. The dedicated people who serve at SHADE admitted that they run on faith. There is never a time when they do not need resources to further their work, but there has never been a time when God has not supplied what they needed. It is humbling to be in the presence of faithful ones like those and not feel embarrassed for the little things we complain about all the time.

We had a quick lunch at the cafe in The Company's Gardens, and then we went to the District 6 Museum, dedicated to the memory of the thousands of blacks who were forcibly removed from their homes when the white apartheid government decided they wanted that land for white families. The before and after pictures were heartbreaking. What had once been a vibrant community was quickly reduced to rubble when the bulldozers moved in. The interesting thing is that nothing was ever done with District 6. It is still an empty field of grass and rubble, some 40 years later. Our driver, Raymond, took us to meet a gentleman who was one of the few who decided to move back to a new house in District 6 after apartheid was abolished. His name was Dan, and he told us how God sustained him through the difficulties he faced. Nelson Mandela himself handed Dan the key to his new home.

We finished our day with a meal at Mama Africa - a place where you can find crocodile, ostrich, and kudo on the menu. I, of course, had chicken. My head is swimming with everything I saw and heard today. I am trying to sort through what it all means. But this I know, God is powerfully at work in Africa, through the lives of ordinary people who step out in extraordinary faith.

Robben Island

2008-01-17T12:06:00.001-08:00

We went to the Waterfront District today for a little shopping, a little bite of local cuisine (bobotie - a Cape Malay dish of curried beef with a custard topping), and to catch the ferry to Robben Island. Robben Island is famous (or infamous) as the prison where Nelson Mandela and other ANC leaders were held for many years. The ferry ride was EXTEMELY choppy, and Clif was about 30 shades of green by the time we arrived at the island.

The tour of the island involved a bus tour where we saw some of the buildings used as prisons, as well as the houses for the wardens. We also saw our first penguin on the bus tour. The second part of the tour was inside the prison itself, and the guides were former political prisoners. Our guide was named Sparks, and he was held in Robben Island for seven years. He showed us the courtyard where the prisoners ate their meals and had some exercise time. It is also the place where Nelson Mandela hid his manuscript for The Long Walk to Freedom, his autobiography.

We saw the cramped cell where Mandela slept. He had three blankets - one to lay on, one for a pillow, and one for a blanket. There was no cot or bed, just a blanket on the hard floor. There was no glass on the window, so the cold winter rain came right through to where the prisoners were sleeping. They had a bucket for a toilet, and they were responsible for carrying their buckets to the other side of the prison to dump them every morning. The prisoners were fed differently, depending on their race. The black prisoners were given less food and less variety than the other prisoners.

The most fascinating place to see was the limestone quarry where the prisoners worked for 8 hours a day for 13 years. Originally, the wardens wanted the limestone to pave the roads on the island, but once that project was completed, they continued to have the prisoners dig and move the limestone around the quarry simply as a way to keep them busy. The highlight of the day for them was lunchtime, when they moved to a cave to get out of the sun and to have conversation. The literate prisoners taught the illiterate ones how to read and write during the lunch break.

It was an usual experience to go to a museum where the history was still so fresh and the people who lived it were there to tell their stories. It made the whole thing seem like it was just yesterday when they were released. And it made me wonder, what must it be like to spend your days in your former prison, telling your story over and over again to tourists who seem more concerned with taking your picture than hearing what you are really saying?

A Visit To A Township

2008-01-15T13:25:00.001-08:00

In the morning, after a wonderful breakfast of homemade granola, we met with our host, Peter Kjeseth, and we learned about all the things we will do this week. Then we did a walking tour of Fish Hoek, the town where we are staying. After lunch, we piled in a van and went to Masiphumelele, a township of 20,000 people. Our guide, Charlotte, lives in the township, and she showed us around and answered all our questions. It was very eye-opening.

This pictures shows what some of the homes look like. Charlotte told us that people build their own homes in one day, and they use whatever materials they can find. You will see pieces of wood, metal and plastic nailed together to make walls. The ground is sandy, so there is no grass in the yards.

As we were walking around, we saw a boy eating a snack. Charlotte explained that he was munching on a chicken foot. I assumed that was the name of the snack, kind of like a corn dog isn't really corn or a dog. But no, it turns out that chicken foot is actually chicken foot. It looks like it is breaded and fried. I say it looks like because I was not brave enough to try one myself.

There were many small stands in the township. This fruit stand sold many kinds of fresh fruit. The women wrapped blankets around their bodies and secured their babies on their backs.

Charlotte had arranged for this band, Ubuyambo, to play for us. The marimba music was lively, and people came from all around to sing and dance along with them.

Here is a photo of our group standing in front of a bed and breakfast in the township where we went for tea. At Zukie's Bed and Breakfast, you can spend the night and get food in the morning for about $23. If you are looking for an authentic township experience with wonderful hosts, then check them out.

My impressions from our time spent there are mixed. In many ways, it was very sad to see the living conditions of the people. Trash is everywhere you look. The houses are cramped with little or no space between them. Some of them do not have bathrooms but have an outhouse in the yard. The unemployment rate is high, and people who do have jobs must sometimes travel long hours to get to work. The AIDS infection rate is 42%, yet the people have poor access to health care. But I must say that I smiled more in Masiphumelele than most other places I have visited. The children were laughing, the people greeted us warmly, and the music we heard was full of life. There is great wealth in that place of great poverty.

We Made It!

2008-01-14T23:14:00.001-08:00

It was a long, harrowing journey through 3 airports, but all of our flights left on time, and we arrived safely last night around 8 pm. The worst flight, of course, was from Washington D.C. to Johannesburg - a flight that lasted 15 1/2 hours. The idea is that people were supposed to sleep for a majority of the flight - a nice theory anyway. We were seated in a row behind, not one, but two babies who were not happy travelers. I slept for maybe 2 hours total, but I did watch 3 movies and 1 episode of Dr. Who.

The trickiest part of the whole journey was when we had to pick up our bags in Johannesburg, go through customs, and then re-check in again for the flight to Cape Town. Our luggage took over half an hour to come off the carousel, which meant we had 40 minutes to go a LONG way to the domestic flight counters. A porter in an orange uniform grabbed our bags and started running toward the domestic counters when we told him our flight left at 5:30. We ran after him, and when we arrived at the gate, they told us our flight was "closed." After a few moments of panic, we found out that our bags would make it on the plane, but we had to "run" to the gate to make the flight. There's nothing quite so much fun as being in a new country and running through the airport after a very long flight. They had a bus you had to take to the plane, as it was not parked at the terminal (something that has happened on several of our flights). I tipped the porter $5 for helping us make the flight. It looked like only 4 of our 12 group members would make the flight, but they waited for the rest of our group, and we all arrived together.

I want to confess right now that, even though this is an immersion trip with a purpose of learning about the struggles of South Africans, we are not struggling at all in our accommodations. We are staying in a beautiful and historic Bed and Breakfast called Sunny Cove Manor in Fish Hoek, a little town on the Indian Ocean side of Cape Town. As I write this, I can look out the window at the ocean, with a lovely garden down below. Of course, the fact that it's summer here and 75 degrees with a nice breeze isn't too hard to take, either.

Thank you to everyone who pulled together at Living Water yesterday in my absence. We missed being with you, but we heard you had a great time of worship!

The Big Adventure

2008-01-12T06:17:00.000-08:00

I guess starting this blog is the real big adventure. For years I have been posting weekly comments on the church website and calling it a blog. No one was fooled, however, into thinking that my one-way communication was anything remotely like the give and take you have on a blog. So, out of necessity, I have joined the 21st century and started an actual blog where people can communicate with me and each other and a real conversation can begin.

The reason for starting this now is that I am leaving tomorrow on another kind of big adventure. My husband and I are joining a group from Saint Paul School of Theology, my alma mater, and flying to Cape Town, South Africa. I have traveled internationally only one other time, and Clif and I have never taken an international trip together. The purpose of this particular trip is to learn about the history and culture of South Africa, as well as see first-hand what some of the ministry challenges are and how people of faith are responding to the needs around them. It will be an unusual mix of incredible beauty (staying in a Bed and Breakfast on the Indian Ocean), and heart-breaking sadness (touring orphanages and AIDS ministries).

My next post will be after we land in Cape Town, and I hope to write daily and post pictures of our trip. Check back on Tuesday and see how the adventure began.