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Oh Sheep!

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Oh sheep:

Monday Prayer

This past week I was challenged by something Daniel said to me in passing. He said something about "ritual" in reference to the way I pray. At first I was totally offended and upset and then as I thought about it more and really readied myself to hear what he was saying, I allowed myself to absorb if it is possible. If I have become to comfortable with the way I communicate with God. I don't know if it is true...but since then, I have really been aware of how I pray and really try to pay attention to my heart when I communicate to the Holy One. It has been kind of a challenge though because most of the time I am praying I don't even realize I am talking to God because I am whispering or thinking - talking to God in a sort of all day conversation.

But what Dan was talking about specifically was when I go through my lists or my dolls. What is she talking about now you ask? Okay...so since I am praying all the time, I have come up with all these games and techniques..fun stuff - really. Like to help me remember what and who. So the list thing is a compilation of index cards with a clip to keep them connected. I shuffle them around and add and scratch people and prayers on and off daily. That is just good organization if you ask me. I totally do not stick to the cards, they are just more of a reference. The doll thing was a fun idea I came up with for my peeps and I. They come in a set and I give or mail one to my friends (usually in America) and I keep the other one and put their name on the bottom. When I pass by that shelf I pray for that peep.Then I move that prayer doll over or lay it to it's side so I know I prayed for that person. See, a good idea!

I also pray, and invite you peeps to get involved with "Monday Prayer" and I pray with whatever requests or "whatevers" you leave here....

So in all of that, I really have been questioning my motives and my heart...when I pray and why. I really do long for a deeper relationship with God and I long for Him to answer our prayers and to draw us closer to Himself. I don't know the answers and I don't know if He will ever give us insight as to why we must pray...but I have always believed that He desires relationship with us. And so I will continue to pray.I will continue to pray and I will continue to check my heart motives to make sure they are not stale and routine.

So won't you join me in prayer this week?

All are welcomed here. If you have anything to pray about, anything you want to talk about, or any insights, please leave it here.

This is America

In a few days I will be leaving for my home country. I will be leaving for my other home. I will be leaving my home. I am always in a perpetual state of "where to belong", but when I am in one or the other, I love the place I'm in. I always long for the other...but I love the place I'm in.

I took this photo when we were in Oklahoma a few years back and it is one of my absolute favorite shots ever. This stranger was such a cool man. We wondered into his bar asking for directions and he ended up talking to us forever. We weren't in a hurry, so it didn't matter.

I can't wait to get back to the United States. I can't wait to see and thank all of the US military people I run into. I can't wait to have random conversations with people about nothing and everything. I can't wait to hear people talk like me. I can't wait to spend time drinking fabulous fabulousness at my favorite coffee shop. I can't wait to think about nothing when my biggest worry is what time to pick up my favorite niece and nephew from school. I can't wait to garage sale and spend time with my mom and sister. I can't wait to wonder into bars to ask for directions and stay for a bonus conversation from a new friend. I can't wait to listen to American radio. I can't wait to eat Grandma's cooking. I can't wait to see familiar faces who on that side are allowing us to do what we do over on the other.  I can't wait to do all those things because I know that as soon as I land I will be ready to flip back around and come back because I will have left my heart here...my other home.

This is South Africa

     

Buckle

I have never been one to embrace or accept authority. Nope. Not it. Count me out. I like to be in charge...take charge, take a stand but to "take it"? No. I don't think so. This is especially true of me when I can't seem to figure out why or for what reason somebody is loafing around their assumed or given authority in everyone's business. Seriously. Why do that? It is so unpleasant.

When those absurd situations occur, I usually feel a sense of wrongness bubbling to the surface and then me - (with my over-developed sense of justice) end up vomiting my emotions all over that said person -  who is loafing their "undeserved" (in my opinion) authority around. Dang it. Why do I even get involved?

So today, we were driving home (9 hour journey) and were pulled over on a "routine" traffic stop and I had to show my international drivers license (which the cop didn't know what to do with) then I had to give my name to be written down in a book for the "records". As all of that was happening, the other cop was like peeking into our back windows with his hands cupped around his eyes. I asked what he was doing because there was no "real" reason for us to be pulled over (since they already looked at our license and registration) - did I mention they didn't know what to do with my paperwork? and so he tells me they are looking for drugs and weapons. So then I get mad because if that is really the case then they can't really tell if I have any contraband because we have big black totes in the back of our truck (holding tools and stuff) but I am thinking how stupid the whole situation is and that they are just trying to get bribes and intimidate people because they are cops and they are allowed to treat people this way...but if they were "competent" they would have pulled out all of our luggage and done a thorough search. But no...they were probably just looking for money or intimidation. Grrrrrr.

Anywho, Daniel asked me (as we were driving off) why I get so upset in those situations and why I choose to treat people with such contempt. Obviously, I did not treat those people with love and respect, and Dan called me on it. I responded with hate and arrogance to all the reasons listed above and then I was angry at me on top of that for being so mean. Dang it.

So then I was thinking about why those situations bother me so much. Not about being pulled over, but about authority. About assumed authority. Even about people who have authority, but who yield it wrongly. I think it is because I feel forced to buckle. I feel forced to submit to things or to people who I never agreed to submit to.

But then while Daniel was talking it through with me and as I was trying to calm down, I realized that God is not a moron. He knows my heart and knows what makes us safe. Even when we don't. Even when I don't. So if I have to learn a lesson on humility and justice concerning something that doesn't make any sense to me whatsoever then I am willing.  I will choose to buckle my knees. I will buckle my knees in surrender not to man but to God.

Not because I am forced, but willingly because I want to be a willing participant in this journey He has invited me to be a part of.

I don't understand most of the absurd situations I find myself in...and today with these cops, it was one of them. But I know that I am responsible for me. I know that I can control my behavior and even if I don't understand or agree with whatever it is that is fluffing and flittering past me in my life, I can still love and honor and respect people. Regardless of what they do to me.

lesson learned.

Cafe - SA

You know when sometimes you think you have a good idea, but you don't really know? I think this is one of those times.

A couple times a week, I get emails or requests asking about our story or why we ended up here. A lot of times I cut and paste old emails because it is kinda a long story, but sometimes I re-write it because I think God is a fresh God and He doesn't always want the same story told over and over. He wants new things to happen. I like new things. I like when relationships unfold and I like when something fresh happens especially when it is unexpected.

So I want to open up a forum for you to ask what you want. It can be South African related or not. I don't care, but I won't be stale in my response because that is lame. I so desire authenticity (even though I think that word is misrepresented and over-used) but I desire it none-the-less. So if you have something to say, or something to ask, here is the place You don't even have to address me, you can talk to whomever and hopefully we can figure out the answers together. Maybe it will unleash conversations into "real life" where we can become more authentic and get us/me thinking. So lets go! Who's first?

Grow.

So much of what we do here is "see and learn"...like thinking out to see if something might or could be a good idea and then going with it. Gardens are a no brainer though. Our peeps out here are able (with help from the local government) to get the land donated to them, then we show them how to garden, get the supplies and voila...food. Oceans doesn't really work the land or harvest the food, we just give advice and help out if necessary. It is so ironic to me how much I consistently take for granted though, like the ability to grow my own food or the knowledge of "how".

So for the past few months or so one of our support groups said they wanted a go at this (we never tell or advise people what to do, it is always up to the peeps what they want to do with their abilities and resources) and we started making a plan. They got the land donated and started clearing a field. This week a guy is putting up a fence and a lady from the support group is having her "new" shack put up in the corner of the garden so to be the "watchman" so nobody steals the food or the fence.

All of the time and energy from the people is donated - like we don't hire the people to work because the pay back will be in the food they grow. But some of the men who were working - clearing out the field were not a part of the support group so I asked who they were and why they were there. Nozake told me that they were just there to help and that it "Makes them feel fresh to work". Translation: It makes them feel like a man.

That day it made me feel proud to stand next to them in that field looking at all the possibilities of South Africa.

Monday Prayer

We would love to pray for you. Please feel free to leave whatever is on your heart or mind and all will be prayed for throughout the week. All are welcome here.

Where to belong

When we moved here from the States two years ago, I was pretty out of my element. Not that I have ever been comfortable in my skin, but I was really, really undone when we moved here. I was unsure and afraid. But with Daniel taking me by the hand, we have made it this far. Some days are harder then others and some days are filled with worry and doubt, but we press forward. We know that this is home and that this is where we belong. We know we were made for this and that our gifts and talents are well suited for life here.

BUT (and I have said this before), we have fallen out of life in the States. I ( more then Dan) feel totally inept when it comes to being social now with Americans. When they come on the teams or when I go back to visit, I have lost some of my "American words" and in social situations I am at a loss as to what to talk about or who I am supposed to be. It would be so simple to say "just be yourself"...but really, who is that exactly? I am not at all who I once was, nor do I want to be but now I have the hardest time even relating on the simplest subjects. I have no idea why that is, and it makes me feel so ridiculous.

So much of what we do here is "feeding starving kids in Africa". Not that - that is our identity, but daily we get phone calls or people coming up to us in person telling us their crisis or explaining why they need our help. We have to discern who and where to put the resources that have been entrusted to us to oversee. I have to put my emotions in check daily (not an easy task) because we have lost so many to HIV/AIDS already and I know that more are to come...so I have to protect my heart some or else I know there won't be any left to give.

So when we do have the amazing privilege to hang out with Americans I feel so stupid. I feel like I have nothing to offer and I am left in doubt. There is almost nothing left of the "Kristi past" so when I try to go back to her - or try to remember what it was like to socialize about "normal things" that ends up a failure as well. I feel so needy to tell people why I am acting like such an alien or to try to explain my insecurities because I know that it isn't "their" burden to bear...but this is who I am now. Insecure and anxious. Raw and unsure. Dependent and unidentified. I have no idea how to balance.

When we go back to the States in a few days I know that all of these things will push to the surface and I will once again be unbalanced in the identity in the mirror. So much of "who am I" rests in what the Holy One has called us to, and if being uncomfortable is the price I am to pay, then so be it.

A lesson in love

Today in a visit with Nozake, we talked and I watched as she washed clothes. She sat in front of me leaning over a metal basin which sat on top of a yellow bucket - making sure each piece was clean. She would scrub and wash, carefully folding over the shirt or pants this way or that on top of itself as she worked her way down the garment - then she would turn it inside out - making her way down or up, the same way, folding it - in on itself, working all of the corners and pockets. She would pull it up and down out of the soapy water and scrap it against her fingers. She would every once in a while lift a shirt here or there to inspect a stain or a tear but mostly she never stopped moving. Dipping, soaking, wringing, scrapping, scrubbing. From five feet away I could see her brown skin worn and raw. I asked her if she had ever washed her clothes in a washing machine [ever in her whole life]. She said "No, I wash my own clothes."