PRDA Agricultural Center...

they didn't com out quite in order, but I tried converting pdf to jpg...I think I need to work on it some :)

Journal - January 21, 2013

2013-01-26  Dancing in the Streets…

It is Saturday morning all I wanted to do was to put on my blue jeans and t-shirt and lie on my bed and read all day.   I had heard the people chanting not too far from me, for most of the night and long before the sun came up.  Young women came marching down the road outside my window.  They stopped the parade and danced for a while. I ducked down in my bed hoping they would march on so I could run to the latrine. .  As I lay in my bed, deciding that there was no choice I was going to have to get up.  I went flying across the compound in my pj’s.   They were on a mission and had a purpose.  I didn't know what it was, but they kept going so I didn't worry.  I heard them stop down the road and more voices were added to the chanting and stomping. The crowed was growing bigger!

The first thing you should understand about Nuer women is they are very modest.  They cover their heads and 70% of their bodies, rarely leaving the house without their long scarves tied over them. Running across the compound in cotton capri length pj’s is certainly NOT culturally appropriate.

I got dressed, since there were so many women about, culturally appropriate, in my long skirt and shirt.  I was sitting in the dining room watching this glorious sunrise, when all of a sudden an even longer line of women came marching down the street waving sticks and tree branches, and doing this kind of stomping dance in front of our gate.  The younger women had been joined by the older women and elders. 

They had attracted the attention of the other American worker here and he came out and asked me what was going on.  I told him I didn't know, but they had seen my fly to the latrine in my PJ's so maybe they came to cast out the evil demons or something, or to express their displeasure at my inappropriate dress.

I asked the guard what was going on because now, I have all these women - maybe 30 or 40 - stomping in the road, telling me to come out and waving sticks and branches at me.  He told me they were celebrating a wedding.  They wanted me to come and dance with them.  So, now, I have most of the compound and IMC staff watching me.  

Hey, I am game for anything, so I went out and let them teach me how to dance.  I can't dance, but I can stomp and wave sticks in the air.  Next thing I know I am caught up in this beautiful whirlwind of women in swirling bright colored scarves, stomping in a pattern and waving sticks in the air.  I am being led down the road to who knows where.  

During all of this, Dr. Aaron (from California) had been video taping the happenings.  They let him follow us to the edge of the compound then turned and started chasing him back and telling him in no uncertain terms he was not allowed to go.  

And, so, I was caught up in the women and we continued to stomp and dance down the road and around a corner until it faded into nothing but a little narrow path. t I had no idea where we were going.  The tall bush grass turned to scrub bushes and grasses that were taller than our heads.  The women who had taken charge of me, stopped and broke of bushes and gave them to me indicating I should wave them. 

The narrow path  opened into a small area with a few grass huts that were nothing more than a few sticks woven together and then into an area that had been swept clean and two more huts were there surrounded by a small fence.

More women were gathered and singing and dancing, there were many men, sitting in a circle on the other side.  There were elder women sitting along the edge with ancient pipes sticking from their hands or mouths.  What a joy it was to be a part of their celebration! And how honored I feel that they came to get me and invited me to be a part of it.

I stayed for a while and then they told me "You go now. We will dance in the field at 3 and you will come.  The elders will come for you". (I am so grateful Mary speaks English!!)  So, now I am waiting for 3 o’clock to see what happens next.

Nothing happened at 3 o’clock.  I waited.  I thought they would come,  I learned later the guard didn't let me know they came, so now I will do some "fence mending'....

2013-01-25    PENCILS…

I wish I could send you all a picture of the fear in a little girl's eyes today when I handed her a colored pencil and let her draw on my paper. Some of the kids were filled with wonder, some were leery and some were excited to try, some just took the pencils and stared. They didn't know what to do with them.

It occurred to me later, that pencils are sticks with a sharp point.  A stick with a sharp point is something used for killing.  It took some brave boys, like this one drawing in my book.  But eventually, we built some trust and they all took a turn trying.

What an awesome thing to be able to show them a small stick with a sharp point can be used to make something pretty...

It turned out to be a great language lesson on the river. I drew the picture, they told me the word :)

2013.01.23           WALL-WALL, MALUKE AND MORE WORDS …

The language lesson began,  “Thok, naath, bok kel”.  Thok – mouth.  Naath – people. Bok – book. Kel – one.”  That is 1^st language of the people.  But then it was “mouth of the people”.  I couldn’t figure out where Bok (book) and kel (one) fell into place.  I was confused.  “It just is” was the answer. 

Then we moved on…  ahhh, aeee, eee,ohh, wuuu – vowels!  A, E, I, O, U ---I got that.  I repeated it many times and was told,  “In the sentence it has no meaning” and I knew it was going to be a long hour! 

I also know the words for child, there, person cow and fence.  I just don’t know how to use them in a sentence…..I feel a long struggle with language coming on.  Oh well, my life has been pretty calm lately, God hasn’t had much to laugh about and I am sure Jesus’ side has healed from all the previous poking as they sat side by side saying, “Watch this one!”

If they laugh half as much as the ladies by the river and I did today, it will at least be interesting.  I watched them cook their dinner and learned two more words “Wall-wall” and maluke.  Wall-wall is a kind of porridge made by tossing bits ground corn or maze in a bowl with some water until it forms balls and putting it in boiling water until it is “couped” - cooked. 

Maluke is soup – a thin broth, that might have had “rey” fish in it…10 minutes with the ladies and I had much more helpful language than I did in my hour this morning…and that is part of the challenge, finding what works and what doesn’t work….

BUSH WALKING…

It is hard to believe that less than a 5 minute walk from the compound life can be so drastically different.  It is a harsh land, long grass (bush), scrub trees and some houses built together in compounds and others extremely isolated.  They are made of more natural materials and have the appearance of being used for nomadic people.  I’m not sure.

2013.01.22  WEDDING BELLS…

The wedding was supposed to happen at 1.  That was what I was told yesterday.  Today, I asked Pastor Stephen what time I should come.  He said “Perhaps you should come at one. But they come from very far away, so perhaps you should come at two. Well…Maybe you should just listen for a lot of noise from the church and come when you hear it.” 

Well, about 12 I began to hear a lot of noise and thought  perhaps I should go.  But they told me 1, so I thought perhaps I should wait. So I did.  I waited until right before 1 and I went.  When I arrived at the compound there was no sign of a wedding. So I took a chair and visited for a bit.  Then the ladies picked their chairs up and began to move so I went with them. We spent the next hour and a half on language lessons and examining my Nuer song book.

It has a wire binding and they have never seen anything like it so it is very fascinating to them.  John Tuita, spent a lot of time explaining the order of worship to me and told some of the most beautiful stories I have ever heard using the words to the hymns in the book.  I could have listened to him speak for hours…  Read the words to Stand Up, Stand Up for Jesus, then tell it as a story.  It is beautiful and give a whole new meaning.

The wedding finally started about 2:45.  I tried to sit at the back of the church.  That was NOT happening!! They ladies came and got me, rearranged chairs and people and moved me to the front. 

All in all it was a pretty traditional wedding, if you leave the soldiers guarding the compound out of the picture.  A beautiful bride, a nervous groom, three bridesmaids in purple formal dresses, three groomsmen and two train bearers made up the wedding party.  I wish I could have taken better pictures but the camera guys were in the way most of the time.  Six pastors participated in the ceremony, saying the prayers, giving blessings, reading scriptures pronouncing the vows and preaching a sermon, followed by more prayers, more blessings and more song

2013.01.21 .  Now we are free, we fought the war and now we can speak for ourselves. We have a voice. We fought for it. Now we will use it.

Our conversation began, "You come to meet the women at 1PM", then it was followed by "Oh, they are coming from a long way. They will come at 1. You should come at 2". At 2 o'clock he came and said "The women are coming from some distance, perhaps you should take a rest and I will call you when they arrive"

I had a great meeting with the women and we began discussing what THEY want to see happen. AGRICULTURE! One woman said the floods took all our wheat and all our sorghum. Even the forest where we can go when there is no food is gone." 

Hmmmm....things like that are hard to hear, but make me glad that God put me here.  I pray that he gives me strength, courage, knowledge and the ability to help.

Another younger lady stood proudly and came to the front to address everyone.  I was impressed as she spoke with conviction and passion.  She said, “We are free now.  We have a voice.  We have never been able to speak before.  Always before the men spoke for us.  Always before the elders spoke for us.  Now we are free, we fought the war and now we can speak for ourselves. We have a voice. We fought for it. Now we will use it. We are young women. What you teach to us we will share with our children and we will change our country.  We thank you for coming.  We thank you for helping us. We will teach you and you will teach us.”

I just wanted to cry!

Journal - Week of January 15, 2013

2013-01-20 – Sunday - Greetings!

What a difference a week makes!  Last week I was sitting in a 5 star hotel in Washington DC.  This week I am sitting in a small room surrounded by boxes, trunks, parts of tents, water filters and more, praying the electricity will stay on long enough for me to finish writing to you.

What an amazing testimony to God’s unending beauty and grace this homecoming has been.  I arrived in Akobo on Tuesday and each day has been an incredible blessing from the people I have returned to.  I know I said before that my arrival in Akobo the first time was as close to arriving in heaven as I could imagine.  Except for a little hiccup or two, this was even better.  

It is hard to describe in words the beauty and the emotions associated with this return. 

Our arrival this time was met with some surprise and many “You DID come back”.  I can’t even begin to describe the welcome from the ladies who cared for me at the compound where I stayed before and the ladies of the church.  There was much laughter, tears, singing, dancing, hugging and joy cries (high trilled voices raised in praised).  I knew how happy I was to be returning but I could never have anticipated their joy in seeing me again, and it was all repeated when we went to the church to give our greetings.

There is joy and there is peace.  Those are some words that come to mind to describe the last few days.  There is much joy in returning and there is much peace in finding my way back to the places that were familiar and some unsettledness in finding the changes that have occurred that are not always so good – more foreign aid workers, more NGO (non-government organization) activities with their increased traffic on the roads, among other things.

I couldn’t really think of a way to share this week with you, so I will just have to tell a story or two…

Things that go bump in the night…

Welcome back to Africa!  I have a mouse and I am quite sure he thinks Santa Clause came and brought him all these new and exciting boxes and put them around the room for him to run and jump and play with.

I lay in the dark last night and listened; scurrying on the floor between the boxes, the rustle of my backpack and the sound of tearing plastic of the film around my sinus meds.  That was followed by the sounds of little feet climbing up the side of my boxes and sliding down as they lost their grip right at the top. 

He was a determined little mouse and finally made it to the top, just in time to scurry across and take a tumble that sounded like he fell off the edge, bounced off my suitcase and landed in the middle of what used to be a metal aluminum pan.  It had been crushed into a semi ball and I think, from the sounds of it bouncing on the floor he got trapped there – for a while.

I lay there in the dark listening for a little while, trying to figure out what to do.  I didn’t want to get up and step on him.  I didn’t know where he was and I certainly didn’t want him in my bed, so I turned on my light, praying he wouldn’t like it, and pointed it toward the door, hoping he would show himself out.

I think he did.  A short time later, I heard a cat choking outside my window.  Hmmmm---the rat didn’t come back and I enjoyed a peaceful night sleep. I kind of felt bad hoping the cat won.  But not too bad.  I had “Ben” in Ethiopia.  I really don’t want to name another one…

Church…”Whom Shall I send?”

It was an interesting return to church in Akobo today.  The scriptures and songs were the same as the ones that Pastor Weiching, from the Nuer church I attended in the states used for his blessings on my going last week. 

Isaiah 6  Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I. Send me!”

and Matthew parable of the sower of the seeds.  It was also interesting that one of the songs “Onward Christian Soldiers” was the same as well.

ATTACK!!  I wasn't sure what was going on. All of a sudden all of the people started ducking and screaming, grabbing the kids and running. The people on either side of me just kept singing 'Onward Christian Soldiers" so I did too.  The people were covering themselves up and hiding the kids under them, and they just kept singing. A swarm of bees had dropped from the trees and landed on the people worshipping below. 

All I caught out of the corner of my eye was a black thing falling from the sky. I'm not sure what I thought it was, but my first reaction was we were being attacked from the river behind us.  But, I didn't panic. :)

I just kept singing with the people around me.  It was almost funny too, in hindsight,  because all I could think is "prove to them you won't panic".  Be calm!! and so I sang!

I laughed because when everyone calmed down, the pastor in charge said "See even the bees are happy Michael Weller is here.  They came down to greet him"

Sunday is a day of Sabbath here and very little work is done.  It has been a day of resting and reading, but at 104 degrees it Is a little hot for much else…

2013-01-17 to be with Christ is to be in heaven, and to be in heaven is to be with Christ.

My devotion:  for as good Rutherford says, "Heaven and Christ are the same thing;" to be with Christ is to be in heaven, and to be in heaven is to be with Christ.—Morning and Evening

I am looking at this beautiful sunrise and the sounds of the village starting their day surround me.  I am pretty sure I am in heaven, bucket shower and drop latrine and all…Life is good this morning…

As a matter of fact, it has been good all day…we met with the church leaders and staked out my tent.  Plans were made, again, and revised, again…we won’t have the tent up before Michael leaves next week and that is ok.  We have a plan.  I have a roof over my head, food in my stomach and life is good.

I was a little worried about the place they had chosen for my tent.  Not because it is not a good place, it is.  Because, the spot they had chosen would have infringed on the place the ladies stay and would have involved taking down their fence to make room for the tent.  Now the plan is good.  We will put my tent outside their fence and they will have their space, and we can still live as a community.

I went to the river to sit a while this evening.  It was great!  I was able to greet the women who will be my neighbors. Their children showed me how they work – washing dinner dishes in the muddy river for the girls.

 A young boy is very serious about his duty to provide food for his family by fishing with a broken branch with a little string tied to it.  I don’t know if he ever caught anything, but he was quiet and very determined.

It was peaceful sitting there in the presence of Christ, in the presence of heaven, as I watched a lady and her daughter hop into a dug out wooden boat and paddle across the river where they began working in what I think is their garden. 

Time stood still and backed up thousands of years and it was easy to see life as it began, with the simple things…hard work, hard lives and a love of God that brings joy and peace no matter what the circumstances…

2013-01-15  You Bloomin’ Idiots!!!  A Day of Waiting.

Now before I go any further I should stop and explain…

Michael and I were sitting yesterday morning in the front yard, watching villagers disappear off unseen footpaths carrying big loads of sticks and straw or big bags balanced on their heads. Children were paying on the road and cows and goats wandering by. We were watching the bids flitter back and forth and one, lone cowbird with a broken leg hunting for bugs in the grass.  It was just a peaceful morning, sitting there watching the village come to life; the kind that makes me sit back and say “Wow!  I really am in Africa!”

All of a sudden, this loud deep booming voice shattered the peace and serenity of the moments when it came from behind us shouting, “YOU BLOOMING IDIOTS!!!”  We both burst out laughing as we realized the sound came from the tv in the mud hut behind us…

I woke during the night to a sound that was familiar, but in my deep sleep didn’t make sense.  It was the sound of marching and their “huh one, huh two” cadenced voices.  It was a sound that was familiar to me when I woke during the night in Malakal.  It became a part of the fabric of life. 

It took me a minute to realize this was Akobo. So, I lay there for a few minutes, in the dark and listened and was surprised how quickly old instincts kicked in. 

Is the sound coming closer or moving farther away?  Is there only one set of marching sounds or more coming from different directions.  The dogs began to bark, was it a normal – get out of my yard bark, or something my vicious?  It is amazing how quickly those thoughts came pouring through my head, and amazing at how comforting the familiar of it all was.

I lay there listening and finally decided that no matter what, a trip to the latrine was required.  I had determined the marching was coming from closer to town and it was going away, not coming closer.  There were no gunshots that indicated there might be a problem.  It was just a routine patrol, I was pretty sure. 

That is a good thing when you have to take your flashlight and walk some distance in the dark to the nearest latrine.  Once inside, the dogs closer became louder and more insistent that something didn’t belong in this area, and there I was, laughing at the predicament of being in “position” in the latrine if trouble arose.  Alas, it didn’t.  But it was a funny thought as my “survival” brain kicked into gear and I made plans to turn out my light to not draw attention to myself, and stay behind the “locked” door while I waited.  Some things life just cannot prepare you for. J

I woke with a start this morning to the smell of wood smoke wafting through the window and under my nose.  My first thought was “fire!” It took me a minute to realize just where I was.  I lay there for a few minutes savoring the sounds of mornings in Akobo.  The children were beginning to walk to the well and I could hear their scurrying feet on the road.  I could hear the women begin their day as they stopped to visit on the road outside my window.  Through it all I could hear the stirrings of chickens and goats along with who knows how many variety of birds.

….

It has been a day of waiting.  We arrived at the church early in the morning. And I had to laugh, I had taken my scarf so the women could “help” me put it on, but I didn’t take my louwella – a long scarf the women wear over their clothes.  They cut me absolutely, positively no slack!  I was quickly “shooed” back to the compound to get it.  It was funny.  You could almost hear them saying “We taught you better than that!!  What were you thinking!”  I quickly returned to the compound, grabbed it and returned to the church to be properly dressed before entering the church building for greetings and worship.

Then it was off to the market and a stop to register me with the office of immigration and “alien persons”.  That office was closed so we kept walking to the Commissioner’s office and began more waiting…There is no hurry here.  Everything happens in its own time.  If you are an impatient person, this is NOT the place for you!!  

There is a peace in the waiting that I think we miss in our hurry in the US.  We are so busy rushing from place to place that we miss the gentleness of taking time to greet someone and look into their eyes. We miss the opportunities to really connect with another person when we reach out in greeting.  We frequently reach out and shake a hand, briefly, quickly.  I love the greetings here.  Most times, you hold the hand of the person you are greeting often times with both hands, or one hand shaking, one hand on the shoulder of the other person, for the duration of the greeting.  There is something we miss in our hurry to check the next text message on our phones and we hurriedly say “hi how are you?  I am fine. Thank you” with one eye on the person and one eye on our phones.  I have to admit, that is one part of life in the US I will never miss.

We returned to the compound and began to wait for the afternoon meetings to end so we could have another meeting to discuss my tent and getting it up and ready for me to move in.  I am always impressed with the thought, care and discussion that center any of the discussions I have ever participated in here.  Not just from the men, but also from the women and the voice that they have here.  The church leaders sat and listened to Michael explain what our needs are.  Then took turns listening as each person spoke their thoughts and then came to an agreement on what they thought was best.  We then walked to the place they thought was best and looked and measured and discussed some more.  When we left, it had been decided.

A short time later, the plans had changed and we were told to wait on Thursday until they came to get us.  And so, we spent another day waiting….

01.16.

I woke up to the sound of rain during the night.  I didn’t expect that.  It was a nice sound on the tin roof and it sure cooled things off…

Flying through the Air...

Tuesday ...  Flying through the air with the greatest of ease, we were not the men on the flying trapeze.  We were, however, floating through the air at 11,000 feet on a plane that was load with boxes and tent parts soaring across the African sky in South Sudan. Our northward journey followed the river and on into the countryside.

Little girls in lime green choir dress with red crosses greeted us, and they along with several elders and youth began the long trek to my "house".  Fortunately, after a long trot through town, shaking hands and giving greetings as I leapt deep ravines in the hard black cotton soil road, I was able to secure a car, just about the time Michael was securing one from the Commissioner.

And so began my journey back to the place I left my heart a year ago.  In some ways it feels like I never left and others it is strange to see the changes that have taken place.

Three new blogs....

It is 3AM in Juba, South Sudan.  I am sorry, I was hoping to have pictures to add, but the internet is too slow, so I will just be copying and pasting three in a row...

And beginning with a story or two...

2013-01-14   NIGHT LIFE...

Tonight was a very interesting evening.  It began about dark, I was outside working on my computer, under the edge of the canopy cover, minding my own business.  I was involved in what I was doing, when I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye.  That movement was the beginning of one of the most bizarre thirty seconds of my life...

It was faster than a speeding bullet flying straight for my neck.  I felt it,s small mouth bite at the corner of my earring and without conscience thought at all, flipped my head to feel something bounce to the ground. It a split second the cat in the bushes next to me pounced, in only the way a hungry cat can, and I watched in horror as its mouth chomped down on my would be attacker - the BAT!!

3 AM...

It has not been a restful night's sleep.  In our infinite wisdom we took the battery out of my US cell phone today to check for a sim card.  When we did that, we lost all my current settings - including my only clock.  Not a big deal, I have this figured out now - US time (on my computer) minus three hours and day vs night = current time here.  Simple!  And I never thought I would use those word problems I hated so much in math!!

Well, using that equation, it is 3 AM here and I woke to the sound of my sinus meds being crunched on the table next to my bed.  I knew I had a night visitor last night when I heard a cough drop hit the floor across the room.  Now, I know that rats are a part of life here.  I have grown to accept that, BUT I DO NOT WANT THEM chewing paper on the table next to my head!!

So began the stand off.  I knew I had light on the table, I knew that if I could get to it the rat would leave.  But how?  I didn't want to stick my hand out and grab it instead of the flashlight, so I very bravely swung my feet to the floor, and swiftly kicked the char which made the table bounce.  I heard it.  It squeaked.  I squeeled.  It ran.  I grabbed and now I can sit and update my blogs...

2013-01-13 The Journey – Sounds of “Home”

From earlier today, my soul has felt like it had come “home”.  I am, without a doubt, right back where God has planned for me to be.  I can understand now the feelings of joy expressed when those of the Old Testament finally reached the Promise Land.  This has been a long journey back.  I didn’t bow down and kiss the ground when I landed, but I could feel the smile on my face as it spread from ear to ear and I wanted to shout “WHOOO_HOOO!!  I AM HERE” at the top of my lungs as I came off of the airplane.

I relished the sounds of many accents in the airport as people came to welcome and to help me.  I also relished the sounds of sitting outside with my sketchbook in hand, listening to the voices of the church behind me, the birds in the air and the children’s voices lifted in laughter as three little girls went strolling by arm in arm.  Tonight, it was the sounds of voices as people gathered to finish a lady’s visit, and an old man from Lebanon’s soft voice was lulling my time tired body to sleep.

As I lay in my bed listening to the sounds of the day around me coming to a close, I remember the voices quietly closing their day and the cars on the street outside, the dogs barking and it all quickly became silent.  A thick, heavy silence  filled the air and hung heavy as even the dogs voices became one, the sound of running and  a single gunshot off in the distance.  There was a sense of waiting and the people gathered outside resumed their conversations, the sounds on the streets resumed, the dogs began to tell each other their stories as the barking resumed and I thought, “I am home”.

Later, I woke to the sound of silence, the kind of silence that heightens your hearing.  The cars had faded to one, and I thought “Hmm, quiet night on the freeway” before I realized the silence was different than that.  It was the silence that comes when there is no sound around you.  No ceiling fan, no refridgerator, no nothing.  A heavey silience.  The complete and total lack of sound and with it came the dark.

It was a dark, darker than dark, the absencence of all light.  That kind of dark has a weight.  It is heavy.  And, then, laying there, I hear the one cough drop I had left sitting on a box hit the floor and I knew my “night visitor” had come to investigate, and I curled my feet up small and went back to sleep. I woke with a start later when I realized I was hearing sound…the sound of my ceiling fan!  The electricity was back on. I opened my eyes and realized the black darkness was fading and I could begin to see shapes in the room and the outline of the windows and the black became greyer and he grey began to fade to light. 

I began to hear the call to worship from a nearby Mosque and realized, I had missed that sound.  Isn’t it funny, how you forget a sound that has become familiar when you are away from it, but when you hear it again, you realized you missed it?

2013-01-11 The Journey – Twilight/Dawn

Daylight fades to dark as a crystal blue sky that defies description turns more brilliant shades of blue and purples than you can even begin to imagine.

The clouds below begin to reflect the light from above and begin to fade from view.

Between the two stretches a band of light that begins on the left with the softest shade of white melting  into soft buttery yellow blending to every shade of orange and red.  Each color blending to the next and spanning the spectrum from the softest, almost invisible shades to the most brilliant I have ever seen.  It is like God is painting the sky with all the colors his pallet possess.

And before you can get lost is the wonder of it all, God drops the curtain of black and sprinkles it with millions and millions of the most sparkling diamonds and jewels you have ever seen.

Darkness fades to dawn, not the brilliant sparkling dawn of some mornings, but the soft, quiet dawn that comes gently waking your soul to the wonder of God’s creations.  As I look out the window the clouds in the distance soften the light to a golden glow and the band of light between the land below and the sky above is like the crown of God’s glory blessing this vast land we are flying over.

We are still too high to see signs of villages below.  There are now roads, only rivers and water ways.  Some tracts of land appear to be farmed along the edges and much of it is vast, arid brown and we are passing south of Kassala as we begin our descent into Addis Ababa.

What strikes me as I watch the day unfold below me, is my soul “knows” this land in a way I don’t understand.  I can picture the women in their villages beginning their days, fetching their water, beginning their fires.  I can “hear” the children laughing and playing as they go about their chores, happy to be together again.  I can “see” the boys and men leading their livestock off the grazing lands where they will spend their days.  I “watch” the market shops begin to fill with workers and the lines of people make their way to churches throughout the countryside since this is Sunday morning.  I am surprised when I feel the sense of peace that comes over me, and my soul is filled with a sense of “welcome home”.

 2013-01-11   The Journey – On My Way, Again

I had big thoughts about what my last views of the US might be – fertile fields, towering mountains, small towns, large cities, all painted in beautiful Technicolor.  What did I get?  Clouds – white, fluffy clouds, smooth grey clouds, dingy clouds, bright clouds.  I was looking forward to seeing our country before I left and was disappointed that I didn’t, instead, God blessed me with glimpses of what heaven must look like.

Not only in the visions from the sky, but from the people that have crossed my path along the way.  I have been blessed to meet people from Uganda, Tanzania, Ghana, Rwanda, Ethiopia, South Sudan and of course, the US including one lady from Hawaii. 

There have been families traveling with young children, anxious to take them to see the land of their ancestors and share their history and culture. 

Others are young adults making the journey on their own.  One young lady is returning to her roots in Ethiopia and I had to laugh.  Her mother is worried about her and didn’t want her to go there because it is not developed.

Two girls from Rwanda had been home to visit friends and families and were working their way back to Canada where they will continue their lives.  I was struck by one’s commitment to the orphans in Uganda.  She had been to the camp run by the Machine Gun Preacher and talked about the commitment there to keep the children safe.  She painted a beautiful word picture of these tiny small children who come in to sleep at night.  They wander in from villages outside the camp and from South Sudan to find a place that is safe from the soldiers who come to steal them in the night to turn them into child soldiers.  She said these tiny children come, in long lines,  after dark bringing nothing but a sleeping mat (rug), holding hands for safety.  Once inside the camp, they simply find a place to lay, wrap in their mats, lay side by side and sleep.  In the morning, they line up and go back to their villages.  She wants to go back and work there, and I would like to go and visit. 

I’ve wanted to go and see the work done by the Machine Gun Preacher ever since I watched his movie.   I don’t necessarily agree with his tactics, but I cannot disagree with his work to save the lives of innocent children, no matter what it takes.  I cannot disagree with him providing safety and refugee to those who have none.  I cannot disagree with his efforts to not only save the lives, but empower the lives through education and job training that is designed to transform lives and communities once they leave the camps .

A young man is returning to his education in the US from Juba.  I don’t know if he will stay in the US or return to his country, but what a delightful young man, with a beautiful sense of humor.  We had chatted for a while when I asked if I could ask him a question.  I told him about the boys at the runway when I left Akobo and the boys on the port in Malakal who asked me “How do we make it (the fighting) stop?”  So I asked him the same question.  I asked “How would you advise me to answer?” His response was “If we knew how, we would have done it a long time ago.”  Reasonable.  Makes sense.

I told him about the boys in Malakal telling me to give them a reason to hope and they would lay down their guns.  He told me, you cannot give them a reason to hope.

Each man must find it for himself”.  So, thanks to a bit of laughter and some serious talking and listening over happy hour snacks, on the final leg of the journey that will take me back to where this journey began,  I have answers to the questions that have plagued me since I left.   Together, we can create opportunities  learn new skills they can share.  Together, we can create opportunities for others, their elders and leaders, to learn new skills to teach their communities in ways I will never be able to.  It is up to them to set aside their weapons and learn new ways.  We can create opportunities to turn despair into hope, but ultimately, it is their choice to choose hope.

The lady I met from Hawaii works to restore undeveloped and fragile ecosystem islands in the northern part of the chain that forms the Hawaiian Islands.  She, and her staff, work relentlessly, for more than 12 years to curtail the growth of a non-native grass and restore the natural habitat of a variety of bird species that come to nest there.

We talked a while about my garden in a bag plan and our conversation about her work made me realize what that “niggling” little thought that would never quite come to the surface was.  It was my reluctance to introduce all these new seeds into the land without knowing the long term implications.  While the short term goal of feeding hungry people is important.  I cannot loose sight of the fact that is, in realty only a short term goal.  The long term goal is to work together to find ways  to improve lives without having a negative impact on the environment.

The man next to me is a dentist from somewhere, USA, making another trip to Uganda to sponsor dental clinics.  He is also making his decision whether to move there permanently.  I understand what a huge commitment that is.  It is not easy to leave family and friends behind.  It is not easy to see the tears pouring through the phone with a teenage granddaughter in complete meltdown mode begging me not to go, or the tears from the faces of my daughters as we say our last goodbyes for a while.

An then, there is the voice I hear from the two year old “Grandma, I decided I might miss you a little bit”. I see the complete and total joy on her face as we wait outside the airport and she watches the planes take off and she shouts “Grandma’s plane!” with complete and total joy.  Then, when the sadness comes, so do the pennies from heaven…

2013-01-11 

I am finally on my way!  How good does that sound?  I am so blessed I am sitting here in this magnificent hotel in DC waiting for my plane in the morning that will take me back!  A part of me is so excited, and a part is a little sad to be leaving my family behind.  And so begins today's story...

Many years ago, my uncle who was only a few years older than me, passed away after a long battle with a brain tumor.  Ronnie and I grew closer as we grew older and we accused of speaking our own language at times by "de aunts".  I was privileged to spend many days with him near the end and during that time we grew even closer.  What impressed me the most about Ronnie was his never ending sense of humor and his complete and total faith and trust in God.  He always said that if he only brought one person to the church, he had fulfilled God's plan for his life.  Well, God's plan was fulfilled.  I was the person he brought back to the church.  I had never lost my faith or hope or trust in God but I had given up on church.

As the days grew shorter for Ronnie he always promised that he would find ways to let me know he was ok and thinking about me.  Joking with him one afternoon, I spouted off "What are you going to do?  Toss pennies down from heaven?"  Well, after six months of waking up with pennies in my shoes every day I was pretty convinced that he was indeed pitching pennies at me from heaven.  Not just me, but his sisters as well and now other family members too have pennies show up out of the blue whenever a big hug, a pat on the back or a laugh or two, or just a simple show of support are needed.

Today was a little tense as I left my daughter and two youngest grandkids and best friend behind to the sounds of blowing kisses and cryin as I made my way through the TSA line and off into security.  Not one of us had a dry eye and I think I saw a few suspiciously sparkly eyes from others in line as the kids continued to shout "by grandma".  It promised to be full blown meltdown, not from the kids as much as the adults.  I handed my passport and boarding pass to the TSA agent, took my first step around the corner to where I couldn't see them any more.  As I started to put my foot down, I noticed one bright penny on the ground.  I reached down, picked it up, stuck my head around the corner and shouted, "Hey Alicia!" to a startled line of people,   and tossed it to her.  As it went bouncing across the floor she reached out and grabbed it and we both burst out laughing, and so did Haley in her full blown two year old giggle.  So, instead of leaving to the sounds of sadness, I went marching off to security in an amazing sense of peace and joy, knowing that God is sending his promise to be there in the hard times and turn them into good.  Not just for me, but for my friends and family as well.

So, as I go, my friends, I hope you find piles of pennies from heaven to remind you that God is always there.

Peace be with you.

New Year Greetings

The new year stands before us, like a chapter in a book, waiting to be written. We can help write that story by setting goals.” 
― Melody Beattie, The Language of Letting Go: Hazelden Meditation Series

Greetings

As I sit here with the third day of the new year coming to a close I am so excited about the new year standing before me as a giant book of blank pages waiting for me to write the story and my first goal waiting to be realized. The goal to return to Akobo that has been waiting for a full year now.  It hardly seems possible that I have been waiting a full year and that I will be returning one week to the week since I was evacuated last year.

I have a whole new definition of “just a few weeks” until I can return.

I am still not quite sure I will actually end up in Akobo, a part of me will believe it when I am really there.   I know that I am better prepared for whatever God has in store, wherever that may be.  I have lived on the brink of uncertainty and learned that God is there waiting.  I have learned to have understanding and compassion for internally displaced people, returnees and refugees and those fleeing their homes with no certainty they will ever return in ways I never could have unless I had lived those experiences.  I know how to embrace each day with hope for what is to come and faith that it is God’s plan and to embrace the adventure it can be.

Looking back on the pages and chapters that were written,  I can see it has been an amazing year of  blessings I could never have imagined.  There is an album full of images of people, places and experiences engraved in my heart and soul.  I can see the many ways that God’s hand has been in all of it.  I am amazed by the many ways my life has been turned, shaped, stretched and blessed beyond all imagination.  I thank you  all for your part in it.

And so, as I look forward to returning to South Sudan next week, I want to take this opportunity to thank each and every one of you for the many ways you have blessed my life.  I pray that, as you look at the new year before you, all the chapters you will write in the books of your lives are as full of wonder and as rich as they may be.

My prayer for each of you is…

“May Light always surround you;
Hope kindle and rebound you.
May your Hurts turn to Healing;
Your Heart embrace Feeling.
May Wounds become Wisdom;
Every Kindness a Prism.
May Laughter infect you;
Your Passion resurrect you.
May Goodness inspire 
your Deepest Desires.
Through all that you Reach For, 
May your arms Never Tire.” 
― D. Simone

God bless you and keep you my friends until we meet again.

Shalom,

Sharon