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.