Outside my car window

My first long drive across town since recently returning from my month long visit to the states happened last Saturday afternoon.  We were on our way to the Hope House home for at risk children.  Normally it takes about 45 minutes to get there.  Last Saturday we were in stop and go (mostly stop) traffic for over three hours.  We never made it to HH as we ran out of time and had to divert and head back another direction.

It seemed as if we were driving through a war zone as there was rubble on either side of the road.  Broken homes and shops littered the busy street side.  People were walking through the chaos going about life as if it were all normal.  We watched in amazement as a bull dozer smashed through flimsy shacks with crowds of people close by being held back by armed policeman carrying menacing weapons as they walked alongside the dozer.

The road is being widened hence the destruction.  There are buildings lining the road with crudely spray painted X's.  The mark is rudely splayed out against house and shop.  During a particularly slow crawl we watched a family just ahead of the dozer filing out of their shack.  In the midst of the family a woman rocked back and forth and wept without sound (as we were too far to hear).  Her body language screaming out the grief of leaving.  Stacked furniture could be seen among the rubble.  Couches and chairs, tables and pillows were among broken cinderblocks and roofing materials.  Children played in pockets of cratered roadside pools streaming from broken water lines along the way.

Looking outside my car window just days before while in Pennsylvania, I marveled at the glorious explosion of autumn colors covering the rolling amber and green forested hills.  The frequent roadside billboards pointed out the way to Starbucks and McDonalds.   Subdivisions of lovely homes and shops were just an exit away.

The change outside my car window has been a bit disorienting.

Fall in full bloom!

We flew into Dulles Monday around 12:45 pm.  It was glorious to land after many hours of travel.  I can never sleep in planes.  It's just too uncomfortable.  I did watch a total of 7 movies during the 16 hours of flight time.  I wish I were kidding...

Steve's brother Allen picked us up and we drove to rendez-vous with Steve's Dad in Washington, PA.  It was such a beautiful day and fall colors were brilliantly displayed on the four or so hour drive to the Comfort Suites hotel.  I was awe-inspired by the green with explosions of red and yellow interspersed throughout the gentle rolling hills of PA.  The sky was blue with wisps of clouds streaking the sky like a window being wiped clean with a soft paper towel.  For many miles I watched a patch of rainbow glow through the clouds in a rainless sky.  I was punch-drunk tired but wide-eyed with wonder at the glories of autumn flashing by as we sped down smooth ribbons of road.  I love the slight chill in the air that feels clean and crisp.  I was wearing socks and close-toed shoes for heaven's sake!!

When we arrived at our destination for the night after embracing Steve's dad we made our way to our room.  There was a king-sized bed with a plethora of pillows and soft sheets that I sunk into immediately. It was delicious and I was loath to leave it moments later to shower and go to dinner.  And where did we go to dinner our first night back in the states after being away for over a year you might ask?!  Denny's!  No joke, Dad Straw was pretty pumped about the 20% off we'd get by showing our hotel keys.  So we drove past the Texas Roadhouse and pulled into the Denny's parking lot.  They have this new cheesy menu.  I don't mean "cheesy" in the sense of "silly", no, I mean cheesy as in cheese.  They serve sandwiches with mac-n-cheese covering fried chicken nuggets!  Crazy...

The next day we drove to Ohio to MMS Aviation to see our beloved Cessna.  It's looking pretty good folks!  We met the mechanics and staff there and took them out to lunch to celebrate and thank them for the near completion of this long project of fix our plane and get it air-worthy.  It was at a mexican restaurant and Steve and I were in enchilada heaven.  My mom and step-dad Chuck drove up to meet us just in time to join us for lunch.  After lunch we all parted ways.  Steve went back to MMS to work on the plane with the guys and Allen and Dad Straw headed off to State College and I went to Hamilton, Ohio with my mom and Chuck.

I'm having the best time hanging with my mom and Chuck and my step-bro Dave.  It's great to be back in the good ole USA.  Of course I miss my peeps in Gabon, you know who you are!!  We will be heading to State College this weekend to celebrate Steve's dad's 80th B-day!  So looking forward to seeing the family that will be gathered for this blessed occasion.

Peas and Carrots

"Turn both your pockets and hearts inside out and give generously to the poor; then your lives will be clean not just your dishes and hands." - Luke 11

That verse lept off the pages of Luke as I read the bible after praying for God to speak to me directly about whether or not I should go to the Hope House orphanage to stay the night and help take care of the nearly 50 kids living there. You see, I have reasons not to go... I am traveling to the states today (a day and a half later) and it will be a long journey and I really need my rest. I get headachy and miserable when I don't get enough sleep. And I have visitors at the guest house now that need my attention and I need to pack and do some last minute shopping for family members that I will see soon in the states... And... well you get it! Honestly, it's hard to go to the Hope House. I am often overwhelmed by the needs and in awe of the love and care that dwells there.

Kristy O'Neal is here for four months as an E4 associate to specifically observe and care for the H.H. (Hope House). She is nearing the end of her time here and wanted to do something special for Pastor Israel and his wife Natalie. She and Leanne and Hannah decided to give Pastor Israel and Natalie and night out at a hotel complete with a lovely dinner. They rarely if ever get to be alone and never in a nice air conditioned room overlooking the ocean. They spend their days taking care of orphaned or at risk kids. And that isn't even Pastor Israel's main job! He also pastors a church that is active and growing ministering to Gabonese and Nigerians in french and english.

So a night out for this amazing couple was set for Friday night. Kristy, Hannah, and Leanne were already slated to go and they were hoping I would join them. Hence the prayer and the hemming and hawing on my part. Confession: I am selfish and love comfort. I love sleeping on my own bed with fans and AC blowing. And yes, I am a missionary in Africa. I have made many changes since moving to Africa and continue to face the ugliness of my selfishness. I am not naturally a hard-working person. I have to rely on God to give me the strength. So there I was praying (as if there were really a question there) that God would speak to me so I couldn't let myself off the hook. I knew if I heard Him he would set me right. He's good like that! So I continued to read His word that day with the sinking realization that I needed to steel myself up to go (I admit red-faced).

"Invite some people who never get invited out, the misfits from the wrong side of the tracks. You'll be - and experience - a blessing. They won't be able to return the favor but the favor will be returned - oh how it will be returned! at the resurrection of God's people." Luke 14

And so I went. It was a looong night. It was sweaty and terribly uncomfortable in a hot room with air heavy and motionless as mosquitos buzzed and feasted on my exposed flesh. The night outside was noisy with drumming and chanting going on continuously for hours somewhere in the neighborhood. Earlier we made spaghetti with meat sauce and veggies for dinner, huge vats of it! The kids ate and ate and some ate more. They were sweet and thankful and laughed and played and sang and danced and fought and at one point I had five kids braiding my hair at once. I held the young ones and swung them around. I helped the littlest girls get ready for bed. They had a routine. After much giggling and playing we prayed together and I read a Winnie the Pooh book to them in french. There was unfamiliar vocabulary that I stumbled over but they didn't seem to mind as they curled into me while I read.

I slept maybe two hours total. We awoke early to unlock the doors for one of the older kids to head off to school at 5:30 am. I went back to sleep for a bit before coming down to help make breakfast. We scrambled 60 eggs and bought 28 baguettes to make egg sandwiches. They love ketchup and we went through two large squeeze bottles before the meal was through. I also brought seven bags of Fritos to share and they loved dipping them into, of course, ketchup!

Funny story... Leanne found a hidden pile of peas and carrots under a chair where the kids had eaten dinner. It seems that the classic parental lament of "there are orphans in African who would love to eat your (insert any veggie here) peas and carrots!" did not prove to be true in this case... That particular orphan did not like peas and carrots either!!

Just before Pastor Israel and Maman Natalie were due to be back little Christopher fell and slammed the back of his head on a concrete curb. He was crying and we couldn't feel any discernible lump and there wasn't any blood and Christopher is known to dramatize any event to an academy award winning performance so we weren't too concerned initially. But when he wanted to sleep and began throwing up we knew he needed medical attention. We called our dear friend Maman Jeanine who is a nurse and asked her advice. She advised that we take him to the military hospital and get him a scan. We had tried to reach Pastor Israel and Natalie but couldn't reach them. Maman Jeanine sent PapiJoe to the rescue. By the time PapiJoe arrived Pastor Israel and Natalie were back. They had a marvelous time out but were facing another emergency all too soon... PapiJoe and Krisity along with Christopher and a few older kids went to the military hospital. Unbelievably they were turned away at 2pm due to the hospital being "full". They drove to another hospital and it's scan wasn't in working order. They went to two other clinics before finding help. I just got an update from Kristy. Christopher's scan didn't show anything critical and he went back to HH but as of this morning he is still in pain and not himself. Please pray for him! Hopefully he will be back to his academy award-winning antics again soon!

When I got back to my house I had the best shower of my life and took a long nap in my air conditioned room. I'm truly blessed to have had the opportunity to work alongside Kristy and Leanne and Hannah. They inspire me to be a better me. I am so thankful to my Father who refuses to leave me stuck in my selfish ways and leads me to love on HH kids. I have been blessed greatly by stepping outside my comfort zone.

Learning the unforced rhythms of grace...

Dear friends,

I have said goodbye to my children twice this week. Oh the aching pain of separation and the transition from a full house to an empty one once again. The kids were to fly back to Cameroon on Sunday afternoon after their fall break. It is so exciting to pick them up at the airport and embrace them knowing that there are days ahead to be filled with being in the same space together, five places set at the dinner table! We can catch up with latest, in person. I can hear my oldest's ever deepening voice. I can behold my daughter's laughter with her beautiful eyes shinning. My last born still curls into me as we embrace. I hold the familiar shapes and sounds of our family together close.

But, alas, they must return to school, and depart us once more. So we made the trip to the airport, said our tearful goodbyes, prayed together and went our separate ways. Only to be called hours later. The plane had a maintenance issue and the flight was canceled. We joyfully picked the kids up again and their stay was extended by a couple of days. It was great to have them home! However, Tuesday came and we took them to the airport again. Two goodbyes in one week. Emotionally exhausting.

I've been challenging myself to find the eucharisteo "thanksgiving" in the everyday. To pray prayers of thanksgiving by actually writing out lists of things I am thankful for. I've been reading the Bible in a very focused way and have found it to be transformative. It is not easy though. It's hard to be thankful for sending our kids away on a plane; to live a life separate from us in the everyday. It's easy to question and complain. I miss my kids on a profound level and being catapulted into an "empty nest" before being ready is jarring. But I am learning the unforced rhythms of grace. In Matthew 11:28-30 it says ( The Message version) "Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me - watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."

Sounds great, but how? I am still feeling my way through. I am asking God to burn off the cataracts of my soul. Eucharisteo is coming into focus, clearing my cloudy vision as the sludge of selfish ambition is melting away in the heat of God's word. "I am beset by soul amnesia. I empty of truth and need the refilling. I need come again every day -- bend, clutch, and remember -- for who can gather the manna but once, hoarding, and store away sustenance in the mind for all of the living?" - Ann Voskamp

I am gathering the manna words of God everyday. I am asking God to sustain me. My children or my job or my friends or my husband or the material things I have cannot and should not sustain me. "How I want to see the weight of glory break my thick scales, the weight of glory smash the chains of desperate materialism, split the numbing shell of deadening entertainment, bust up the ice of catatonic hearts." The lament of Ann Voskamp echoes my own prayer, although she says it lyrically. I cry out with a burning ache to live a life that is vibrantly alive. His Kingdom come, His will be done.

Eucharisteo

"Who would ever know the greater graces of comfort and perseverance, mercy and forgiveness, patience and courage, if no shadows fell over a life?" - Ann Voskamp As I read those words, I think of suffering and sorrow. These are bittersweet gifts given to lead one by the hand to a loving Father. The One who was and is and is to come. He is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and end. Who can discern this life we life? Who can write asks Voskamp, "the sharp Holy Writ on the page that makes a careful incision into a life, blade words that kindly cut the tissue back to where the soul and spirit join, tenderly laying bare the intents of the heart." (Hebrews 4:12) I have recently read through Hebrews and have found God in the printed words. Amazing but true. THE God of the universe. That He would join me and speak to me is a profound mystery! I struggle through this world. I question and ache, and wonder about what it is all about and does it really matter at all in the end? When will the end come? I so want my life to count. I want to make a difference. I want to stay soft in this often caustic hard world.

In my journal there are a few quotes I've quoted of late. "If you want to change the world, pick up your pen." - Martin Luther "... there are eyes in pencils and pens." - John Piper So what of these words, will my penned words bring sight to a blurry place, a confusing collision of colors; dark and sombre? Or will those words speak of light and joy and peace, illuminating thanksgiving to a God that loves and draws near to those that draw near to him?

In Ann Voskamp's book, "One Thousand Gifts: A dare to live fully right where you are" she issues a challenge. The challenge has a name as ancient as days. Eucharisteo, it means thanksgiving. She presents that Eucharisteo is the secret to a joy filled life. So for the last week I have taken up that challenge to look for opportunities of being thankful in my everyday. I am thrilled to report that I have found unspeakable joy as I pen my words of thanksgiving to God. I find small things that lift me up above the mess and mundanity of life and extend a message of beauty and peace. So, yes, penned words are life changing and bring into sharp focus that which is beautiful and amazing. I encourage you to read Hebrews and Voskamp's book and pen your own words of Eucharisteo. What are you thankful for today?

I will close with this little poem I penned on Tuesday while sitting with Steve near the sea.

"rolling waters sounding out a white and foamy song, curling and folding onto warm golden sand. a chorus of Sun splashing out of parted clouds bouncing joyfully, sparkling bright, a snare drum of white. Green leaves quivering in the ocean breeze with spots of a red fluttering leaf melody. Ropey-reptilian-like palm trunks march towards the rippling sea, a drum cadence of palm fronds interlacing and straight like giant birdless feathers flirting with flight."

Pickled Cow's heads and other stuff

Have you ever been nearly run down by a wheel barrel filled with pickled cow's heads? It happened to me last week as I was shoe shopping at Mont Buet with Leanne, Hannah and Kristy. We had weaved our way through a sea of humanity, sometimes walking single-file, haltingly, with walls of sound colliding and competing for our attention. The streets winding and crowded with vendors and shoppers all around. Vendors selling coconuts or cloth or diapers by the bundle. Some have tables with their wares perched precariously and some have wheel barrels, some have actual shops lining the streets, and then there are some with a cloth spread on the pavement with merchandize piled high and haphazard. One can buy almost anything at this African market. The fruits and vegetables covered with flies, shining with vibrant color, artfully piled into small mounds. People are bumping into one another and stopping suddenly as something catches their eyes. We often hear vendors shouting out after us, "Les Blanches!" "The Whites!" Men making kissing noises to catch our attention can be a bit distracting. The sheer number of people can be intimidating. We pushed on undaunted, looking for shoes for Leanne, fabric for Kristy and new knock-off Converse for Hannah. I was just along for the ride but found a set of lovely green and brown swirled plates that would be a perfect base for chunky candles on my dinning table. I was going to buy just one but ended up with a set of six.

Sometimes the smells are not pleasant and it takes a steely resolve to dive in to the throng of people and find your way around the crazily winding streets. Then when one is ready to buy, the bartering begins. It is a game of what price will we pay today? Sometimes fun, sometimes not so fun... It is an experience and an adventure. Never carry a purse, thieves are out in full force and we kinda stand out in the crowd.

Later that night on a table surrounded by friends and good food, those lovely swirly plates of green and brown sat interspersed with blue swirly plates I already had. It was the perfect table, set, and ready to share. Just last night I put three chunky candles on the plate. I lit them and got warm fuzzies just watching the lit candle flames dance on unseen air currents, lighting an ordinary space with romance and and a spot of drama, casting soft shadows on the walls and ceiling. This morning I picked up a piece of a melted puddle of candle wax and held it to my nose and breathed in the scent, feeling it's waxy surface with a slightly oily coat. On the underside shinning in the morning light was a swirling pattern showing the wax's molten growth as it pooled and cooled on the plate I bought at Mont Buet. So lovely the swirls, hidden art in a puddle of wax. God is so artful to put beauty inside such a delicate and ordinary thing. How easily I could have missed this whispered message of beauty.

Traveling Chucks

There is a book I read many years ago entitled, "The Crime of Living CAUTIOUSLY" by Luci Shaw, which gabbed my attention and filled me with a longing to live courageously not cautiously. Since reading that little book much has changed in my life. I still battle between cautious living verses courageous living but little by little I swing towards the courageous life. I live in Gabon, some have called it "Earth's Last Eden". For those of us who live here life isn't so "Eden-like", in fact one has to travel far and wide with much expense to find this "Last Eden". So four of us friends set out to find this Eden we have heard so much about and discover it for ourselves, in living color not glossy magazine images or billboards posted around the capital.

We bought knock-off Converse "Chuck Taylor" shoes in the three colors of Gabon's flag... Leanne - blue, Lisa - yellow, me - green, and Hannah - white (white isn't actually in the flag but it is the ultimate back-drop). We planned to not plan our journey knowing that here in Gabon it is quite difficult to make advance plans. None of us had ever done this before but we know the language (sort of) and have the old church network to fall back on should we run into challenges. Our loose plan was to follow the coastline south-ward. Our goal was simple, to see the Gabon of glossy images and find elephants and hippos and monkeys... oh my! We knew taking the tourist route would be way over our budget so we thought we'd just piece together our very own path and use non-tourist methods.

We decided to have a meeting together just before our trip to discuss things such as expectations and the like. I have gone on vacation with close friends before and found that vacation can be stressful if the participants have differing ideas of what should happen during said vacation. This meeting was to avoid such frustrations and help us to communicate well. So we each shared our hopes and dreams for the next nine days. We packed lightly with travel pillows and snacks to make meals on the go should the need arise. We also carried an enormous pepper spray can within easy reach... just in case... We had a first aide kit and super glue. We were pretty much ready for anything!

Steve dropped us off at Port Mole where we had the day before purchased our VIP first class tickets aboard our first sea vessel to take us from Libreville to Port Gentil. We were filled with nervous excitement and had our bags checked and waited in a concrete slab holding area in plastic chairs labeled VIP. We sat, and sat and sat. By the time we were ready to climb aboard the boat it was two hours late. C'est la vie! Our boat was a white double decker with nice seats and tables and even a flat screen tv up front. We should have known things were taking an unexpected turn as the boat attendants were handing out complimentary sick-sacks by the dozens. The vomiting began just as we pulled out of port. There was as small area outside the upper deck to sit and have the wind in our hair and see the stars and lights of the land twinkle into the distance as we sped onto Port Gentil. Three out of the four traveling chucks sadly became the traveling up-chucks. And a few of us were spewed with the vomit of another traveling companion upwind from us on the deck. It was the most vomitous voyage of my life to date. I will spare you the details of the ship's employees morphed into "vomit nazis" insisting on the correct way to vomit while one is in the process of vomiting.

We finally reached Port Gentil a little worse for the wear. Fortunately a friend from Port Gentil was there waiting for us and wisked us away to a beautiful home. We stayed for a few days in Port Gentil taking in the sights and enjoying a white sandy beach next to the clearest blue sea I have ever seen. Our host, Rod, was supremely helpful and gave us much needed contacts to the next phase of our travels. We quickly realized we would not be able to go all the way to the southern end of the country as our limited funds would run out. So we called and found we could stay a night in Omboue and then onto the Louango Lodge for a few nights and have a boat safari to see the sights we set out to see.

We had an amazing adventure and reached our goal of seeing the eden of the glossy images and saw elephants and hippos and monkeys oh my! We laid out on a gently swaying dock under a blanket of stars and talked and sang together. We had a picnic in a remote lodge while watching an elephant graze grass across a river with the clear blue sky stretched to the heavens. We battled the dreaded tsetse fly and kayaked to a crocodile isle where we saw croc prints in the sand of an enormous croc who could swallow us whole without looking the worse for the wear! We bought cheap googles and watched fish dart about and swam with a stingray in the clearest sea. We were treated like royalty at peasant prices. We felt our Father in heaven was displaying His creation in living color, sound, and scent and far exceeding our expectations.

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..." Jack Kerouac

We took 7 boats in 9 days and I got to spend time with fabulous women who are creative and smart and funny and are mad to live and talk and be saved and... well... you get the idea! It was not a time to live cautiously but courageously. Luci Shaw would be so proud... Many thanks to the Traveling Chucks: Leanne Barnard, Hannah Trosen, and Lisa Nicky! Hip, Hip, Hooray!