frustration

How do you spell it?
Recklace
Recless
Wrecless
Holy crap! I really can’t picture the word in my mind to save my life? What is wrong with me? And I can’t figure out how to use the dictionary on Windows Vista. How can I write this blog post is I can’t figure out how to spell the word? It’s so far off, the spell check doesn’t even recognize what I’m trying to spell.
Forget it. I’m picking a new word.
Y’all I dun got dummer heyer in Afrikka.

Thinking outside of the par-a- dig-m.

Africa does funny things to your mind. It changes your perspective on what is “proper”, what is
acceptable. We had a game night on Wed, and the hostess served Easter shaped sweet tarts that someone sent from the states a while back. Isn’t that funny? Would you ever serve Easter candy at Halloween? Of course not. It would be “old” and therefore gross, and your guests wouldn’t want to eat it.
But we were very excited to have sweet tarts. No one cared.
I’ve seen partially used bottles of Bath and Body given as a gift, and the recipient being thrilled to have it! Ha Ha.
Last night, I invited a friend Jacci, to dinner. Since she lives in Manzini, we pre-planned that she would just stay with me last night and go home in the morning. (The Swazi don’t even drive in Manzini at night, so there is no way a white woman will.) Since I don’t have a guest room here, but I do have a proper double bed, she had to sleep with me. The funny thing is, neither of us even thought it was strange. It was just practical. It was kinda fun, talking until 1 am after the other guests had left and then just falling asleep. This morning I thought to myself, “I’m 30 years old, and I just had a slumber party.”
What a riot! You just wouldn’t do those kind of things in the states, but here, it’s second nature. No one thinks twice about it.
I love it. I love the freedom of doing what’s enjoyable, fun, realistic, and rational, instead of what is “proper”.
So I give you permission to abandon all sense of “how you should do thing.”
If it tastes good, eat it, no matter what shape it is. Give a gift you know someone will love, even if you used a bit. Sleep with whoever you want…err. No wait, that didn’t sound right. But you know what I mean.
Live Life! Love Life! (I saw that on a t-shirt here. I’m adopting it as my new motto)

Written Sunday

Did you ever watch that show Sliders? You know the one where you discovered an older, slimmer, much cuter Jerry O’Conner? Or O’Connell, or whatever his name is. You know the chubby kid, Vern, from Stand By Me? Anyway in each episode they were in a parallel universe. And that’s how I feel lately. I feel like I’m existing in a world that’s operating day to day, and once in a while I can look through the window back into the life that I experienced for so many year.
On my homepage, yahoo, they listed the top scary movies.
So? I thought, why would they do that?
Duh, Halloween is in 3 days. This entire month has slipped by and I didn’t even realize it. Without a Wal-Mart full of costumes, and grocery stores with isle after isle of candy, I didn’t even realize it was Halloween. I started thinking about my former students, the fun activities we did in the fall, and how I would decorate the classroom and my home.
But not this year.
Somewhere on the other side of the world, my mom has a giant pot of mums blooming, children are carving pumpkins, friends are having movie night with scary film, and my dad has bought 6 bags of candy using the excuse of trick-or-treaters, although we never have one at the house.
And one more I discovered just this instant. My microwave clock says 7pm. My parallel universe computer clock says 6pm.
Y’all had daylight savings time today, didn’t you?
Nope. Not here.
It’s such a strange feeling. Life is going on without me, while living a life here.

One for my dad...

Don't know why I was surprised, after all, orchids come from Africa. But when I saw these lining my drive way I was so excited! It's like the way you have daffodils in the states. With teh rain and warm weather they just appeared out of no where.
So I shot this for my dad. He loves flowers and growing them. When we went to hawaii a friend had told him, "Don't just shoot a flower. You have to put a person in the picture too." So everytime he saw a flower/tree/bush/plant he liked, he made me stand by it.
We have a lot of pictures of me, and hawaiian flowers.
Unfortunately, there was no one around when I shot this, so my appologies. It's just a picture of a flower, no person. :0(

"everything will be fine"

I got my microwave back! Fixed for Free! I took it to the repair shop and they told me it would be $450E for the Part and another $100E for the labor.
Ech
But they saw how new it was they asked if it was under warenty.
Of course it is, but I couldn't find the slip or the box (which is required here.) The manager sent me to the shop I bought it at (across the street) and in a book, they keep all of their registars, and I was listed on the first page.
Now I must repent. I complain about the lack of technology in Swaziland, but in this case, hand written recipts make a difference. The manager gave me a copy, and then filed the paperwork himself.
I got the call today, and took it home right away! While life was not that bad without it, I'm happy to have it back.
Not sure the lesson in all of this....but I had peace about it all. I guess I'm just suppose to learn that lightning stikes here, I should always keep my boxes, and modern technology isnt' always what it's cracked up to be. We can live well without it.

Okay, a week late but I can update you on the camp. It was a wonderful experience. Yes I slept horribly, and was dirty and tired, but I think it made such a difference to the teens that were there. They were so tickled that I came and slept over.
And you know watching them pray, sing, and dance I was so blessed. I thought to myself "this is so cool." It almost brought tears to my eyes. I love them so much!

Here it is!

Okay, this is my baby,- the Chippie cottage! Not 100% finished, but it's coming along. My kitchen was too dirty to shoot, I don't have one of the living room yet, but here is the outside view, the dining room (I have to hang the mirror)and my bedroom. Yes that's a misquito net, but it's more for decoration than necessity, at least at this point. It's still not hot enough to sleep with the windows open. But to me, when it's down, it looks very "Africany"

So it will make sense to you too...

I love my friend Lauren for many reasons.
She’s taught me that African pancakes (crepes) really are amazing with avocado and bacon, or that sweet bananas, onions and spicy curry really do go together.
She’s sweetly quirky.
“When I was a little girl, I use to love thunderstorms. I’d lie in bed listening, and get all warm and tingling inside. I’d think, ‘Yes! My God is that powerful!’”
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I’m struggling.
How do you go on day after day on blind faith.
When you don’t see His hand working. When you don’t see an end in sight.
How do you continue on for one more day, when, honestly you don’t believe it will be just one more day.
That day will lead to the next, to the next, to the next.
“Behold! I do a new thing…”
But month after month, the test results are negative.
Months have turned to years and he still won’t speak to her.
Countless prayers for her, and she’s farther away from God than ever.
What do you do, when you realize that you're no longer surprised by the disappointment.
Your heart is right before the Lord, “But it’s been the same for so long...”
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The thunderclap shook my house this morning… “I am that powerful!”

A scary story with a happy ending

The other day we left our teacher's meeting at St. Paul. One of our teachers, Lungile couldn't find her son. She went throughout the carepoint, and then took other teachers throughout the community. They visited homesteads, and his little friends thinking perhaps he'd left with one of them. Finally a teenager came forward and told her he'd been picked up by the police and taken home.
so the next day I'd asked her about it.
She said he'd wandered out of the carepoint because he wanted her. He was trying to walk to St. Paul's to find her when the police picked him up. He said, "I want my mom" but had neglected to tell them she was just around the corner at the church. So the police took him to the store, bought him some food items and then took him all the way to his homestead, about 15 KM away. She said she walked into their house frantic, and he stood there all smiles.
"Look momma I have food for us!" He was the little man of the house.
So sweet. It's also nice to hear a good story about the police here.

One for Miss Jean!

This is a jacaranda tree near our Makholweni carepoint. Isn't it beautiful? Most of the blossoms are gone now, but it was soo cool to drive around Manzini and see purple trees throughout the landscape.

Say cheese!

Hey I finally got it to load!
So many of you commented that it was good to see a picture of me. So here is one of me, Lauren and Julia. You can see I'm healthy, and happy here in Africa

coming soon...

okay, I know I promised an update on camp. But I've been really busy. Please wait patiently. I'll get an update soon, possibly with picture ofChippie cottage as well

Camp

I’m going to youth camp today. You know, I wasn’t a Christian when I was a teenager, so I never went to youth camp. And I’ve certainly, never been to African youth camp, - so I think I’m in for a surprise. In my mind I’ve been thinking of bunks and cabins, but I know for a fact it’s nothing like that. I’ve heard “horror” stories from some of our other Americans who’ve attended in the past.
“It’s hot! You can’t shower. You have to sleep on the ground…” They usually just go home to sleep, bathe and return the next day.
At first I thought this sounded like a great idea, but as it’s approached, I’ve been feeling in my heart that I need to go and stay. How can I expect my teachers to do something I’m not willing to do? I’ve been to their houses, - they sleep in beds too. I’ve given them a good sniff, - they bathe everyday too.
In addition, many have husbands, and kids and extended families at home that they are leaving behind for a whole weekend, to love on these teens, serve them, teach them, etc.
In my “lead by example” approach, I feel it’s important for me to be there too. I’ve been fighting it, but this week I finally submitted to what the Lord is asking me to do. It won’t kill me to get skuzzy for a day or too. I will not melt in the heat, nor will I literally be eaten alive by mosquitoes. I’m just viewing it as camping. After all, I’ve already been asked to bring my own sponge (foam mattress) sleeping bag and dish to eat from. I’ve packed my sunscreen, bug repellant, and wet wipes to bathe with.
And do you know what? The past few days I’ve been getting a bit excited to go! I’ve never been to youth camp or even tried real “roughing it” camping before. Yea! I get to get dirty, and nasty, and eat food cooked on a fire. Not only that, I get to spend a night with the teenage girls from Moneni, who I have grown to love so much!
It’s funny how when you have a submissive attitude, God will bless you and change your heart. So, please pray for me this weekend at my first ever youth camp. I guess it’s never too late to start. But more importantly, pray for the 130 teenagers who will be there. Pray that they have “eyes to see and ears to hear”, that something will strike a chord in them. Pray they will have an “a-ha” moment or an “I get it now.” Pray that their hearts are changed and that their lives will be changed as a result.

It's worth repeating...

A few years ago I read Blue Like Jazz, by Donald Miller, and there is an amazing chapter about loving others. I posted an excerpt on my blog a year or so ago, but so many of you weren't reading yet. So it's worth repeating...

…The problem with Christian culture is we think of love as a commodity. We use it like money...If somebody is doing something for us, offering us something, be it gifts, time, popularity, or what have you, we feel they have value, we feel they are worth something to us, and I and, perhaps, we feel they are priceless. I could see it so clearly, and I could feel it in the pages of my life. This was the thing that had smelled so rotten all these years. I used love like money. The church used love like money. With love, we withheld affirmation from the people who did not agree with us, but we lavishly financed the ones who did.
The next few days unfolded like a thick line of melancholy thought and introspection. I used love like money, but love doesn't work like money. It is not a commodity. When we barter with it, we all lose. When they church does not love its enemies, it fuels their rage. It makes them hate us more.
Here's how it worked out on a personal level:
There was this guy in my life at the time, a guy I went to church with whom I honestly didn't like. I thought he was sarcastic and lazy and manipulative, and he ate with his mouth open so that food almost fell from his chin when he talked. He began and ended every sentence with the word dude.
"Dude, did you see Springer yesterday?" he would say. "They had this fat lady on there who was doing it with a midget. It was crazy, dude. I want to get me a midget, dude."
That's the sort of thing he would talk about. It was very interesting to him…regardless; I had to spend a good amount of time with him as we were working on a temporary project together. He began to get under my skin. I wanted him to change. I wanted him to read a book, memorize a poem, or explore morality, at least as an intellectual concept. I didn't know how to communicate to him that he needed to change, so I displayed it on my face. I rolled my eyes, I gave him dirty looks. I would mouth the word loser when he wasn't looking. I thought somehow he would sense my disapproval and change his life in order to gain my favor. In short, I withheld love.
…I knew what I was doing was wrong. It was selfish, and what's more, it would never work. By withholding love from my friend, he became defensive, he didn't like me. He thought I was judgmental, snobbish, proud, and mean. Rather that being drawn to me, wanting to change, he was repulsed. I was guilty of using love like money, withholding it to get someone to be who I wanted them to be. I was making a mess of everything. And I was disobeying God. I became convicted about these things, so much so that I had some trouble getting to sleep. It was clear that I was to love everybody, be delighted at everybody's existence, and I had fallen miles short of God's aim. The power of Christian spirituality has always rested in repentance, so that's what I did. I repented. I told God I was sorry. I replaced economic metaphor, in my mind, with something different, a free gift metaphor or a magnet metaphor. That is, instead of withholding love to change somebody, I poured it on, lavishly. I hoped that love would work like a magnet, pulling people from the mire and toward healing. I knew this was the way God loved me. God had never withheld love to teach me a lesson.
Here is something very simple about relationships that Spencer helped me discover: Nobody will listen to you unless they sense that you like them.
If a person senses that you do not like them, that you do not approve of their existence, then your religions and your political ideas will all seem wrong to them. If they sense that you like them, then they are open to what you have to say.
After I repented, things were different, but the difference wasn't with my friend, the difference was with me. I was happy. Before, I had all this negative tension flipping around in my gut, all this judgmentalism and pride and loathing of other people. I hated it, and now I was set free. I was free to love. I didn't have to discipline anybody, I didn't have to judge anybody, I could treat everybody as though they were my best friend, as though they were rock stars or famous poets, as though they were amazing, and to me they became amazing, especially my new friend. I loved him. After I decided to let go of judging him, I discovered he was very funny. I mean really hilarious. I kept telling him how funny he was. And he was smart, quite brilliant; really, I couldn't believe that I had never seen it before. I felt as though I had lost an enemy and gained a brother. And then he began to change... It didn't matter to me whether he did or not, but he did. He began to get a little more serious about God. He gave up television for a period of time as a sort of fast. He started praying and got regular about going to church. He was a great human being getting even better. I could feel God's love for him. I loved the fact that it wasn't my responsibility to change somebody, that it was God's; my part was just to communicate love and approval…

Love

God’s re-accuring theme since I’ve arrived in Africa has been love. I’ve been on this journey of learning all over again. How do I love others? Many days I feel, not very well.
Our focus of the recent retreat was Loving Well. (It’s a Beth Moore study that I highly recommend)
It made me question many things. Do I love from an outflow of the love I receive from God, or do I love out of my own strength? Do I look for opportunities to love, or do I love because of a sense of duty? Is it a chore to love, or is it a joy to love?
This is not a one day fix-up, but a continuous journey of seeking a better understanding of Christ’s love. While I might never in this life understand the fullness of His love for me, there’s one thing I’m realizing about it:
It’s not a just- enough love.
It’s not a filled- to- the- brim love.
It’s an overflowing love.
There is a beautiful song on a CD that a friend gave me.
Your love is deep, Your love is high
Your love is long, Your love is wide
It’s deeper than my view of grace,
Higher than this worldly place
Longer than this road I travel,
Wider than this gap you fill...
Pauls writes, “And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep the love of Christ is”. Ephesians 3:18
I don’t know if I’ll ever fully understand his love for me. But his love is an abundant love.
It’s not limited to my understanding of it.
It’s not just enough to get me through the day.
It’s not equal to what I need to go through the tough times.
It is more than I could ever imagine.

African Funnies

Africa makes me smile.
The other day I rode to work behind a pick-up truck. In the bed was a man, a woman, her baby, a granny, and a goat.
Only in Africa.

Nomty is a sassy 20 year old who works in our office. One day, frustratedly teasing Queeneth, she said, “Oh I see. You think you are better than cheese on toast.”
To an African that would be pretty good. :0)

We had dinner with a group of Zimbabweans who were visiting. For desert, Felicity had a big bowl of ice cream and brownies. Since I’d been eating cookies as an appetizer, I only had a tiny scoop of ice cream and a tiny little brownie.
She was appalled! “How come I have this huge bowl, and you only have a lick and a promise?”
I like that one. I’ll use it. You can use it too.
Smile!

It's christmas!!!

In the states, October is for Halloween.
November is for Thanksgiving.
December is for Christmas.
But here in Swaziland, we don't celebrate Halloween or American Thanksgiving.
So Christmas can start in October!
Yeah! I'm so happy.
I went grocery shopping at Spar yesterday. There were giant gingerbread cut outs hun from the ceiling, Santas, wreaths with bows and bulbs, pine garland, and Christmas candy!
I'm so happy!

words of wisdom

"When you love someone, you do what's best for them."
Pastor Ron said this in our last Marriage and Family class lecture. It makes sense to me.
God always does what's best for us.
Parents do what's best for their children, even if they don't like spinach. :0)
It's not always easy, but it's important.
This week our chapters covered divorce and remarriage. "...Because those involved in marital conflict often do not receive support to keep their vows, their hearts become hard and divorce becomes a consideration. Jesus makes clear the concept that divorce is always perpetrated because of hardness of heart. Many other situations usually exsist but this is the root cause (Matt 19:8) The devastation left by divorce leaves deep wounds and scars. God wants to bring resptration. Pointing the finger at a mate and passing the blame to them will never bring restoration, but coming to God and repenting will begin the restoration process." R Tucker 2000.
I see this in the divorces I've seen. A friend of mine one confided in me that things were rough in her marriage. She said, "I don't want to be a statistic, but things are bad. I can't stay like this anymore."
When I asked her what was so wrong, she began to list all of the things her husband didn't do for her, and how he wasn't making her happy in this way and that way.
Knowing her husband is a good, decent, caring, supportive man, I couldn't beleive why she was so unhappy. I remembered when they first met and she was falling all over herself to be a loving caring supportive wife to him.
Sometime during the marriage she'd stopped doing what was best for him, and started looking out for what was best for her. As a result, her heart became hardened.
A few months later she told me things had been getting better. "I realized the problem was with me. It was my attitude towards things." As her heart was softened, her live for him returned, and now things are much better between them.
Guard your heart readers.

Nkosatana Sihle

This means "princess Sihle" She is a spunky outgoing little girl at Moneni, who needs your prayers.
She was the first friend I made at Moneni.
She was trying to tell me her name and I just couldn't get it. she got so frustrated with me. Finally she did a big sigh at me, rolling her eyes. With her huffy voice she said,"Say 'see'"
I repeated obediently, affraid not to.
"Say, 'shlay'"
"Shlay"
"yes! see-shlay"
Plucky little girl. I love her, please pray.

Book Distribution

A few weeks ago I went about distributing books to the carepoints. I'd always been told that the swazi aren't really into books and reading. But children have a love for stories reguardless of where they are raised. They met me at the truck and wanted to carry in the books themselves. And even the tiny ones were grasping at them, with wide eyes! They were facinated with the colorful pictures, knowing that the black marks meant something. They would point to the pictures and chatter excitedly to one another. And sometimes they would point and tell me the english words as well. I sat a read with a few tiny ones about going to school and every page they would point excitedly shouting "Peeen-sul!" Well at least they know what a pencil looks like!

Who can I vote for?

Well you know I don't follow politics much. But we will be getting a new president next year. My mom sent me this link, now I have a much better idea who to vote for next year in November.
http://www.wqad.com/Global/link.asp?L=259460

okay okay, I take it all back!

You know in spite of my ranting and raving about looking a mess, I went to my carepoint to spend the afternoon with my babies. And as I turned off the road onto the dirt side street, they spotted Punkin, my man-truck. The children began and cheering, “Yea!” pumping their arms up and down in the air as they jumped about. They ran to me shouting what little English they know “Hel-lo Aunt-ie. How are Youuuuuuu?” They hugged me in a mass that almost knocked me down.
Some teens arrived later, rushing in as they saw Punkin parked at the gate. The twins came to hug me, “Oh Auntie, I’ve missed you. Did you come yesterday? I heard you were here. I’m sorry we missed you last week. We have much to tell you.”
They wanted to sit right next to me and ask me about my favorite food, and favorite colors, about my house and my family. They wanted to share with me about how their father just died, and now they are only with their mother, and asked me to adopt their friend’s baby sister.
They don’t even notice my melted skirt, and rained-on hair,- I’m a rock star to these kids. They will hang onto my every word, and adore me no matter what kind of a mess I am, simply because I come with love, a smile, and a listening ear.
What an opportunity I have to influence them. What a responsibility I have to influence them.
I love them so much.

Skirting the issue

I have to vent.
To the Swazi, skirts are a big deal. Women simply don’t wear pants. Ever.
So now that I know I’ll be here in Africa a while, I decided I have to wear skirts more often. Sigh.
Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against skirts. I own a few. But to be sentenced to a life time of skirts is a bit much for me. Yeah, sure I could wear pants, it’s not against the law, but the Swazi honestly respond differently to me in a skirt. It’s as if I’m not trying to separate myself as an “American woman” but trying to fit in with them.
So I bought another long skirt this past weekend in Nelspruit.
Sigh.
I hate that I look like a …a… missionary. All I need now is my long braid back and I’ll be set. Long skirt, long hair, no make- up, frumpy frumpy frumpy.
So I wore the skirt on Monday to my teacher’s meeting, and the women were very excited. They also noticed I was speaking SiSwati (I thought I had been for the past 3 months. Where have they been?)
Yesterday I wore pants, but today it was back to a skirt. I choose the long brown one that my mom had given me before I left. I tried to iron it, and found that it’s the kind of skirt that melts with a hot iron.
Nice.
Ruined skirt. Ruined brand new iron.
It’s not the first time I ruined a skirt. I also have a black iron deposited mark on my favorite white linen skirt. And it’s not like I can just throw them out. Then I would have even less to wear than I already do, so I just have to suck it up and wear them. The shopping here is really limited, so it’s not like I can just go out and buy more.
You know, it’s one thing to be condemned to a life of long frumpy skirts. But I hate that now I have to wear long, frumpy, melted, scorched skirts.
I don’t consider myself vain, but is it too much to ask to have clothes that don’t get ruined!!!! Is it too much to want to look at yourself in the mirror and say, “hmmm. I look nice today.” C’mon! I’m a woman! But with rain every day, my hair stylist moving back to the states in 1 ½ weeks and Este Lauder foundation running $60 US dollars a bottle this is quickly becoming unrealistic for me.
So here is a picture of me from Hawaii, New years, and Christmas where I think I look rather cute, albeit cheeky. Please print them off and hang them on your fridges, because I want you to remember me that way. When I return for a visit next year, I won’t look anything like this. I’ll be a mess!
I quit trying! That’s it! No more trying to look pretty here in anti-pretty Africa. I quit! No more shaving my legs, plucking my eyebrows, painting my toenails, or trying to wear anything cute! In fact I’m going to quit Children’s Cup all together and join the Peace Corps. Yes that’s more like it. I’ll have hairy underarms, shoes made out of hemp, wear patchouli oil and live in a homestead with a squatty potty. Yes that is the life style to go with my new look!
Grrrrr!

Thanks Heidi

My BFF sent me this email. It's how I feel some days. Get ready girl, you're next.

I read this quote in the Donovan book I told you about and thought of you. "A missionary is essentially a social martyr, cut off from his roots, his stock, his blood, his land, his background, his culture. He is destined to walk forever a stranger in a strange land. He must be stripped as naked as a human being can be, down to the very texture of his being."

Blessings,
Heidi

You know in Africa I’ve experienced nature in a whole new way. There are just cool new trees, bushes, animals, smells, and phenomena that I’d never seen before.
A few weeks ago I was at a carepoint in Mangwaneni Mbabane. The fog was so think way up there that you couldn’t see anything beyond the carepoint. Not the hills, not the homesteads, not the highway, nothing. In a short while it warmed a bit and the breeze picked up. And I stood there watching the wind blow the fog off the mountain. It was so cool!
A few days later I was driving home from a cloudy Manzini towards Mbabane. A cloud of fog had simply come and rested on top of the mountain. It was like a painting it was so beautiful.
But the most amazing thing was just yesterday. As we drove back from South Africa we came through a lightning storm. The bolts of lightning were pink and wildly webbed. The rain poured as we approached the border of Swaziland, and the landscape was magnificent. It looked like the stereotypical Africa picture. The grass was long and browned from lack of rain. Acacia trees were scattered along the plains, and the mountains stood in the background. Oh I wish I had a picture to show you. When we went through the border post and into Swaziland, the sun came out, creating a giant rainbow. You could see the entire arch, from one hill, over the highway, and then resting on the opposite hill.
Wow! I have never seen that before in my life, it was amazing!

weird microwave

When I first moved in to my house, Nathaniel told me to unplug all of my appliances when they are not in use. That way if there is a lightning storm, you won’t fry anything.
Good advice from a 12 year old.
So yesterday we were having our first lightning storm. I went around unplugging my TV, DVD player, and refused to plug in my laptop even thought the battery was dead.
As I started to sit down I thought I better unplug everything. I got up again and unplugged the dryer, the coffeepot and went to my microwave.
No the microwave will be fine. Besides I didn’t want to move the fridge to reach behind it and unplug it.
I started to sit down and thought again about the microwave.
No, it will be fine. (Too be honest, I don’t know if I thought it or “heard” it but I felt fine about it.
I went to bed and the power flickered for a while. It would cut off, and then when it came back on, I’d hear my microwave beep.
So this morning I wake up, and the clock on my microwave is dark.
When I opened the door, the light inside came on, but the buttons and panel are out. Was it fried by a power surge? My fridge is plugged into the same plug and it’s fine. So is my oven. But the microwave will not work.
Huh? So what was all of that about last night? I think if it was that small voice telling me to unplug it, and I didn’t listen, I’d feel guilty this morning.
But I don’t. I feel peaceful that everything will be okay.
So pray for me as I pray from my microwave. Strange… I don’t know what the lesson in all of this is yet.

The retreat

The weekend in Nelspruit was wonderful. I made a few purchases, made a few new friends, and felt revived. We did Beth Moore’s Loving Well study, and it really helped me to focus on the idea that I need to learn to love the unlovely, especially those that I’m close to.
One morning while I was doing my hair, I heard the Lord say that I’m home now.
Hmmm. Can’t say that I’m surprised. I’ve kinda been expecting that to come. But I’ve been feeling for a while, in spite of all the icky culture shock and such, that this is to be my new home and I need to begin building my life here. That’s not to say that I’ll never be back in the states, but as for now and this season of my life, Africa is home.
That’s hard to accept, because part of me has been trying to hang on to America with one hand. But I realize I severed all ties to the states, with the exception of my friends and family. I have no job there, no house, no car, no furniture, no toys, nothing!
But it’s helping my attitude, and accepting things. Instead of thinking, “why can’t things be like this or that,” I think “well this is where I live, and that’s how we do things here.” :0)

I love lots of things. I love my family. I love bacon. I love words that rhyme.
I obviously don’t have the same affection for all of these things, but in our English language, we only have one word, - ‘love’. In Greek, there are multiple words for love. One is ‘Agape’ which is a chosen, self sacrificing kind of love, - like what Christ shows for us. Another is ‘phileo’ which is a friendship love. Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love, gets its name from this word. Sometimes you can have one or the other, sometimes you can have both.
For example, when I was born my mother (agape) loved me. A mother’s love for a child is intense and self-sacrificial, - but we weren’t friends. Now I am grown and we have a good relationship. Sure she still agape-loves me but now she has a phileo-love for me too. Bonus.
Well learning these things have revealed a new understanding for John 21. It use to confuse me in a lot of ways: Why was Peter fishing naked, and then why did he get dressed only to jump in the water and swim to shore? (That’s a technical fishing thing that I’ll save for a different day.) Why does Jesus keep asking the same question and saying the same thing? But now I think I see a little better what is going on.
You read it first:

15After breakfast Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?" "Yes, Lord," Peter replied, "you know I love you." "Then feed my lambs," Jesus told him.
16Jesus repeated the question: "Simon son of John, do you love me?" "Yes, Lord," Peter said, "you know I love you." "Then take care of my sheep," Jesus said.
17Once more he asked him, "Simon son of John, do you love me?" Peter was grieved that Jesus asked the question a third time. He said, "Lord, you know everything. You know I love you." Jesus said, "Then feed my sheep. 18The truth is, when you were young, you were able to do as you liked and go wherever you wanted to. But when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and others will direct you and take you where you don't want to go." 19Jesus said this to let him know what kind of death he would die to glorify God. Then Jesus told him, "Follow me."
20Peter turned around and saw the disciple Jesus loved following them—the one who had leaned over to Jesus during supper and asked, "Lord, who among us will betray you?" 21Peter asked Jesus, "What about him, Lord?"
22Jesus replied, "If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You follow me." …
Do you understand my confusion?
So these are some things that have been pointed out in sermons, and some things I see here myself:
First, off Jesus and Peter are using 2 different words for love here. Also, this is the third time Jesus has appeared to his disciples since his resurrection, but the first time Peter has been there. Now remember, when Peter first recognized him as the Messiah, Jesus changed his name from Simon, to Peter. ‘Peter’ means, ‘the rock’ and he was to be the cornerstone of the church, but here, after he has denied Christ 3 times he’s getting called Simon again.
So it goes like this:
“Simon, do you Agape me more than these other guys?”
“Yes, Lord, you know we’re friends…”
“Then feed my lambs.”
Jesus, not ready to accept a quick off the cuff answer repeats the same question, this time just focusing on Peter.
“Simon, do you agape me?” He’s asking, ‘do you love me to the point of death? Would you give everything for me?'
Again, Peter answers, “Sure, Jesus, you know, we’re good buddies.
“Then take care of my sheep.”
Finally the last time, Jesus changes it up. He says, “Peter, are you my friend?”
And Peter gets upset when he’s asked this third time. He’s denied Christ 3 times and now has been asked to show his devotion 3 times, the last time what’s expected of him has been down-graded.
“Lord you know everything. You know I have can offer you only friendship love.”
“Then feed my sheep. The truth is, when you were young, you were able to do as you liked and go where ever you wanted to. But when you are old, you will stretch out your hands and others will direct you and take you where you don’t want to go.”
Jesus has big things for Peter, the rock, to do for the kingdom. Again and again, Peter honestly tells him, ‘I only have enough love to love you like a brother.’ And again and again, Jesus replies, ‘if this is the kind of love you have for me, then this is what you can accomplish for my kingdom: You can feed some baby followers. You can take care of some older followers. You might even be able to feed some mature followers. But to do the kind of things I’m asking you to do, to fulfill the role I’ve given to you, to be “Peter,” to go and serve unto your own crucifixion, you need an all encompassing, passionate, sacrificial unto death kind of love.
Then Jesus repeats the first words he ever spoke to Peter, way back when he was still ‘Simon’
“Follow me”
Under the gun, Peter does what most of us would do… he looks around and finds another disciple to take the focus off of him. “Me?!...Hey, Jesus what about that guy?”
And Jesus refuses to change the subject. “What’s he to you? I’m not talking about him, I’m talking about you…Follow me.”
And the scene ends there. But we know that Peter will follow him, and eventually will develop that Agape love that will allow him to carry out his purpose, - even to death. What facilitated that, I dunno. You’d think witnessing the resurrection would have cemented it for him, but it obviously didn’t. Perhaps it was the empowerment of the Holy Spirit in Acts 2. Oh but that’s for another day…
But now after seeing and understanding this in scripture I have to ask, do I agape Jesus?

Forgiveness!

I have a good friend, but a few years back our friendship hit a rough patch. It was caused by several things and I always felt this kind of dark cloud hovering between us. We went through all of the friendship motions but we both knew there was a strain.
Then one night she sat me down. “I need to apologize for something. I’ve been holding anger against you for A,B,C, and The Lord has been dealing with me about this…”
And as she talked I saw where this was going. I remember getting so excited, not because she was making some kind of “I’m wrong/you’re right” confession, but because I saw we could heal our friendship! And when she finally finished with “…will you forgive me?” It was all I could do not to shout out “Of course I forgive you! I’m just happy to have my friend back!!!” That started a season where we each asked for forgiveness for things we’d done wrong towards the other, and now we have a great friendship again.
(I know you are reading this, I love you girl)
Well lookie what I found in the Bible today:
“O Lord you are so good, so ready to forgive,
so full of unfailing love for all of those who ask for your aid” Psalm 86:5
I can just picture God as I come to him to ask forgiveness. He’s not gloating, he’s not smug. He doesn’t have the “I-told-you-so” look on his face. He’s excited, and can’t even wait for the words to come out of my mouth. He can’t wait for me to finish speaking, because he knows where this is going. We get to be friends again! And He doesn’t mind shouting, “Of course I forgive you! I’m just happy to have my friend back!!!!”

As promised!

Here is a pic from our teachers Braai, two weeks ago. They have refused to load! These were two or the Chubby Bunny contestants. Surprisingly, neither of them won!

interesting thought

An interesting thought from Robert A Tucker, Author of Marriage and the Family: “ We are to see [children] as an eternal inheritance. Our children are the only earthly things that we can take to heaven. Our children must not become idols to us, nor should we favor them to their own destruction. But God wants us to invest our lives to see that they carry on in the purposes of God.”
Hmmm…Can’t take the car, the house, the PHD, the bank account, or the family pet. But we have to potential to take our children with us.

In case you didn't get my email..

It was an unexpected surprise. I stopped by the clinic to pick up a friend Nombti, and give her a ride back to the office. Then I saw some of my children there who were brought to be treated for colds, coughs, and other such things. I sat and chatted and hugged them.
“Christy. We need you, two minutes” Ncamiso said. “There is a woman here. She is very sick. She needs prayer.”
It was a small frail woman. Just shorter than I am, she can’t weigh more than 80 lbs. Sunken cheeks, dark eyes, and the tale tell lesions on the side of her face. She hobbled into the room and struggled to lower herself into the chair.
Ncamiso and Tbeko prayed for healing, but to be honest, I felt nothing leading me to pray that way.
She didn’t respond much.
I did feel led to pray against her root of rejection, - her struggle to receive the forgiveness she’d been promised though Christ, and her confidence to approach her heavenly Father boldly, without fear that He was angry with her.
When we were done, she sighed. “I feel warm. I feel warm on this side.” (the side I’d been laying hand on.) She looked no more healthy, but more peaceful.
As we left I asked her, “L- they say you are A-’s family?”
“Yes, he is my brother.”
The first person I prayed for here in Swaziland was “A-’s sister.” Unnamed, and unknown to me, I felt led to pray with him one day in the kombi. She was sick in the hospital, and he was so concerned for her. And today I met her face to face and got to hold her gentle hands in mine.
It was an unexpected surprise.

Cool Quote

“Don’t ask God to guide your footsteps, if you are not willing to move your feet.”
Don’t know who said, it, but I love it!

Part 2...Finally!

Wow! my readers have been getting restless! Hope you're not to disappointed with part 2. Nothing profound, just another day of being humbled. Here it is:

Okay so I wrote It’s not about me on Sunday evening, pressed ‘save’ and went to church.
Guess what the sermon was about…Obedience.
Not just obedience, but obedience with the right motives.
Ouch!
Yes I gave the lamps, I was obedient. But I did it for the wrong reasons. I gave them because I “had to” not because I had compassion for a woman alone in a new and scary place who might have wanted just a touch of home.
Galatians 6:18-23 says : But when you are directed by the Holy Spirit, you are no longer subject to the law . When you follow the desires of your sinful nature, your lives will produce these evil results: sexual immorality, impure thoughts, eagerness for lustful pleasure, idolatry, participation in demonic activities, hostility, quarreling, jealousy, outbursts of anger, selfish ambition, divisions, the feeling that everyone is wrong except those in your own little group, envy, drunkenness, wild parties, and other kinds of sin…But when the Holy Spirit controls our lives, he will produce this kind of fruit in us: love joy peace patience, kindness goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
Considering my actions and attitudes these past few weeks, I think it’s clear that I’m trying to be obedient to the law, not the spirit.
Sigh. No fun.
And it never works out anyway. :0)