A life less comfortable

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 ru

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

"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 mont

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 joyful

"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

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 u

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

I knew it was going to be a good party when PapiJoe showed up at the house in the early afternoon, hours before the dinner began, to set up a huge amp. No joke, it was the size of a small refrigerator! My eardrums nearly exploded by a wall of sound as PapiJoe miscalculated the volume level during his brief sound check. He laughed gleefully and left soon after saying he'd see us later. Once a month or so our Gabonese OSPAC (the social work branch of the local CMA) friends join us Americans for a dinner. We take turns hosting and all contribute food-wise so it's a delicious mix of African and American cuisine. Sometimes, not always, there is dancing involved. Now I am far from being a dancer. As a teen I watched the movie Footloose staring a young Kevin Bacon and fell deeply in love with Grain-Mill Proms held on the outskirts of small town USA. I mean who can't relate to the down-trodden teen characters of the movie as they rise up and challenge the powers that be?

I just read a book the other day that pointed out the profound truth that we are the stories we tell. Last night I spent hours lingering over the dinner table talking with Pauline and Christina. They flew in yesterday, Pauline from England and Christina from the US. I know both and was so looking forward to their arrival. Pauline has lived in Africa for the last 16 years or so with trips back to mother England from time to time. She has been away for quite some time as last August she had to quickly go home due to her mother's sudden death. While Pauline went through the grief and whirl-wind of packing and going, I was in Cameroon with the kids getting them settled into their new life. Pauline has been in the northern part of England since then taking care of her 99 year old grandmother. She claims she is the linguist that "no one can understand" due to the heavily accented English words she slings with speed and a cadence all her own. She is a beloved part of ou

Last week here at the thriving Gros Bouquet guest house we had a world traveling comic book artist/teacher/writer extraordinaire stay with us for a few nights. Her name is Marie Javins and she is traversing Africa overland for the second time in her life. She wrote a book entitled "Stalking the Wild Dik-Dik, One Woman's Solo Misadventure Across Africa" about her first trip across Africa in 2001. Ten years later she is doing it again only backwards this time (she is going in the opposite direction not walking backwards). You can follow her on http://www.mariesworldtour.com/. I was able to hang out with her and hear about her journeys first hand. I then ordered her book on my kindle and was able to talk with her as I read the book. On the morning we woke up and heard of Bin Laden's death we talked about how ten years ago she was in Africa when 9/11 happened. The irony of the time and place and being so far from home when such terrible things occur. On her last

"The aim of the person of faith is not to be as comfortable as possible but to live as deeply and thoroughly as possible - to deal with the reality of life, discover truth, create beauty, act out love." -Eugene H. Peterson I read Peterson's book "Run with The Horses" during a particularly painful and uncomfortable time last year. It spoke to me to the very marrow of my bones. Things are certainly better now but still uncomfortable. I keep coming across articles on false guilt and blogs about living out a life that fits and feels "right". So how am I to respond... The words "ought to" can be very imprisoning but at the same time they can keep you from falling off of the edge. I don't write many blogs because I am uncomfortable and don't want to whine and complain and bemoan my way through so I am often silent. Which, if you know me well, is quite contrary to my personality. I am a verbal processor and writing helps to clear th

I just finished reading a book called Imaginary Jesus. It's a bit trippie but a good read. It's outlandish and funny with bits of startling depth scattered through out. I recommend it. The main character in the book is confronted with the realization that he has quite happily replaced the real Jesus with an imaginary one. The apostle Peter appears to him in a communist vegan cafe in downtown Portland, Oregon and proceeds to get into a fist fight with the imaginary Jesus. Yes, that is how the book begins. It goes on from there as the main character has to decide if he wants to find the real Jesus or stick with the comforting Jesus he has imagined up. As it turns out there are many imaginary Jesus' lurking in his life and they chase after him or he chases after them throughout the rest of the book. Apostle Pete and a talking donkey named Daisey are his help in addition to one trip back in time to see when the Apostle Peter first meets Jesus. Of course I can't help

It started with a slight twinge within. I felt increasingly uncomfortable. Soon it seemed my stomach was pressing against my spine and under the front of my ribs. I felt round and rung out like a dirty dish towel. Misshapen. That is when I began to suspect worms. Yes, worms, living inside of me. The other night I couldn't sleep as I imagined the tickling in the back of my throat to be a worm wriggling about. It's hard to relax with such thoughts roaming and rattling around in the dark of night. By Wednesday I was sluggish and slow moving, the worms within eating my strength. Steve and Sam went to the pharmacy and picked up a worm treatment for us all. Since then I am feeling better. It seems that getting worms here is not an if but a when. So now I am among the many that have had living worms within. The other night we went to do a surprise pick up some friends coming back from a quick trip to South Africa. It was Sam's one and only friend and his mom. They a