Another African Adventure

We climbed a mountain in Africa. Not just a hike. Not just a stroll up a hill. A mountain. A huge pile of rocks and cliffs.

It was honestly one of the best parts of our trip. A beautiful, hot, sunny day in East Africa. A chance to really talk to some of the kids, to really get to know their stories and their lives.

One of the guys who led us up the mountain (all kids who led us, mind you), his name was David. He was just about to graduate from University in Kenya. Grew up as a street child, no parents, no hope, no love, hardly any food. Until he found his way to Mully Children's Family.

I was so impressed by his heart and his knowledge I didn't hardly know what to say to him. He asked me all kinds of political questions and my opinions as an American about all kinds of things. It was fascinating.

The climb was beautiful. A word that seems hardly appropriate, but it's all I have. An unlimited vista spread before us. The villages, the river, the little huts scattered around.






One of the most amazing things was the soil. This part of Kenya is a pretty dry area. Even right by the river, the dirt is red and sandy. However, the whole property belonging to MCF is rich, black soil. As if it were all topsoil. They can grow crops with much less work than even just a few hundred yards in a different direction. As if God directed Charles to purchase that property by chance. It was for his retirement home. A huge piece of land to build a huge home for his family. And now it is the perfect piece of land for farming for his whole 548-child family!

I have to brag just a little bit. I was the only white person to actually make it all the way to the very top of the mountain.

I've always loved climbing things. As a kid I was always in a tree or up a ladder or on the roof. If a window has an adjoining roof, I'd be up there. The climb up the mountain was long, and hot, and very tiring. The air was getting thin and the breeze was getting cold. We were very near the top. But there was a problem. Between the myself and the summit was a chasm. And to jump it was quite tricky. Because you didn't jump over to another rock, you jumped over to a rock face. One needed to have a seasoned climber bridge the gap and then brace themselves against the rock wall and help you over, help you find a handhold and then you had to scamper up the wall...my husband was terrified the entire time. He kept shouting up at me that he would be very angry at me if I died. But do you see how high we were? Right in the middle of the clouds.

How Strong Am I?

I like to learn things. I like to know what I am good at and what I am lacking in. I like to be able to improve myself in whatever I am not very good at. One thing I know, however, is that I am very very impatient with myself.

I want to be a better guitar/piano/bass/percussion player NOW. I have a book for everything. Learn to Play Bass Today. Learn to Play the Congos Today. Learn to Play Guitar Today. But it doesn't seem to work that easily.

And I hate that it takes work, and I hate that it takes time. I want to be able to swim NOW. I can doggy paddle like a pro, but when it comes to really swimming, I'm not so good.

However, there are many things that I am naturally very good at. There is still room for improvement...so I know that potentially someday I could be great at them. And there is still a need for patience, practice and time.

Something hugely significant to me that I took away from the conference last week, was working harder on your strengths than your weaknesses. Not to put all the weaknesses away and never work on them, but to focus on being much better at what you are already good at. Along with this, to focus on the strengths of those you manage or lead.

I am just learning how to be a leader/manager of my little band of musicians. I am just learning how to guide them where I want them to go. I want to encourage them to be strong; encourage them to be great. I am patient with them, I give them time, I tell them to practice.

So I need to follow what I lead. I need to be patient with myself, give myself time, make myself practice. Focus on making myself much better at what I'm good at and a bit better at what I'm ok at. Be more well-rounded, but yet very strong.

Here is my challenge and my question for you: What are you good at? What are you great at? Don't be shy. Be honest about yourself. And along with that, do you know someone who could help you excel at your strongest strength? Because we can't do it on our own.

A Dinner, A Man, & A Pinched Nerve

On to a few lighter topics for a while!

At my stellar Hot-Lanta conference, I had the lovely opportunity to dinner with family. Everytime I go to Atlanta, I love it. The traffic I could do without, but we fortunately had a hotel at just the right place so that we never had to sit in any of the bumper to bumper.

It's a great city. Every suburb has it's own personality. Buckhead has been my favorite. The old buildings, the beautiful new buildings. And the restaurants! So many choices, so much good food. We met my aunt and cousin at a two-story fish. Literally, this thing was enormous! But it made it quite easy to find the place...

The food was spectacular, the company was so good to see after so very long. We weren't sure if it had been two years or three...or more. That's never a good thing. Promises to meet again sooner. "Please come up to Michigan...you said you would last year!" I'm keeping my fingers crossed this time.

We stayed very late. We talked over everything. I think we were one of those tables that the waiters talk about back in the kitchen. But sometimes you just have to stay.


Saturday night--back in Michigan. Charles Mulli was speaking at our church. The organization that we stayed at and served with in Africa is called Mully Children's Family. The orphanage that he started from the ground up. A man who was abandonded as a child, left home alone for months while his parents ran to another city to find work. A man who lived by begging, by stealing, by going from home to home to find someone who might help him. He finally got work, and not just that but he found Christ. Finally, he had hope that Someone actually cared about whether he lived or died. He was wildly successful. After many years, he owned several businesses, land, vehicles and was very wealthy.

But he knew he was meant to do something else. God had a different plan for him that didn't involve him being rich. After some time, he realized he was wealthy so that he could minister to other children living on the street like he had. Children who sniffed glue or gas or found some other drug. Kids who had no family, or the family they had beat them or sold them or abandonded them. His heart was for them. All of them.

There are five locations of Mully Children's Homes. All around the country of Kenya. Charles has adopted over 1200 children. Given them clothing, food, shelter, love and the knowledge of God. They all call him Daddy and run to him whenever he is there. I can't think of a better example of the love of Christ than Charles.

All that to say that he was visiting our church this weekend and it was so good to see him again. To hear his familiar voice and to strain to understand his words through his accent. That beautiful accent. Our group got another chance to be together and just hang out together. Sometimes it still feels weird not to see them every day.


Sunday. A beautiful day. Sunny and not too cold. Singing with hundreds of kids. Praising and playing. And a pinched nerve. I don't know when it happened, but it got steadily worse over the day. So that by the end of the evening I could hardly get off my heating pad on the couch. This morning finds me sore. I don't think it's pinched anymore, but everything aches. I am getting so old. It makes me worry that I will have a difficult time carrying my children. So I just try not to think about it.

Now we are all caught up. If you were able to read this post and the one before it all the way through to the end, I commend you. Apparently I am really wordy lately!

So, what is going on with you? What is the one most meaningful thing that happened to you this week? One word or a paragraph, I want to hear it.

A Conference & Some Luggage

It has been insanity. I know we all say that. Our lives are all very busy nowadays. I feel like since I got back from Africa I haven't had a chance to catch my breath.

My mind is still spinning from that and so much more has been thrown on top. This past week we flew down to Atlanta for the yearly Catalyst Leadership Conference. I am always blown away by the production of the event, the quality of all of the speakers, the fun, the music, and just the overall learning. For example, the first day of the event is kicked off with a hot air balloon, a red carpet and breakdancers. To honor one of the British speakers, in walk several British flag-bearers, and men on horseback. Jeff Foxworthy shows up. Just for fun, we have the Guiness Book of World records come to officiate the world's largest pillow fight and then the national dodgeball champions come in for a round of dodgeball. And then there are the speakers. And the worship time.

Every year we look forward to going and then talk about it for the rest of the year. I read through all my notes a few more times. Trying to remember what seemed most important to me. But honestly, the biggest event at the conference had nothing to do with the conference.

When we flew into Atlanta, I went to the rental car counter to get all the paperwork taken care of for our vehicle. Then we all trooped out to the shuttle to go pick it up. When we got into the lot, I headed off to the minivan as I was in charge of that part and I assumed that someone was taking care of my luggage. Not the best assumption I have every made. One should never assume anything.

Needless to say, when we arrived at our hotel 45 minutes later and unloaded everything, I discovered that my luggage was not in the van. I first cried and then immediately called the rental place. They called each of their shuttle drivers and no one had any luggage. Later that evening I called again to see if another passenger had called to say they had luggage that didn't belong to them. Meanwhile I ran out to the store to get the necessities, all the while so sad for the things I had lost. In my head I reminded myself over and over, "they are just things, it doesn't matter" but I was still so frustrated. Not the end of the world, but sad. Sigh.

The next day I put it out of my mind during the conference. I refused to let it ruin or impair any of the time I had to learn and love. I called the rental place again and heard the same message, "No one has called to turn in any luggage." I was giving up any hope.

My last option was to call again and ask for the phone number of the people who got off the shuttle after we did. They had to have accidentally picked up my bag. I knew the time and the exact parking spot they had their rental in. And we also knew that they were at the conference with us because we had heard them mention it on the shuttle.

It was Friday. The last day of the conference and my last chance to find my luggage before we left for home. After one of the sessions, I stepped outside to stand in line for a book signing. I walked out the door, past the heaping trash cans and stopped short. "Do I?" I turned to the three men standing by the door.

"Excuse me, but did you ride the Dollar Rental shuttle?"
"Are you missing your luggage?!"
"DO YOU HAVE MY LUGGAGE?!"

They asked me my name and I started to cry. All over these wonderful people. I just happened to think that perhaps one of them looked familiar and they indeed did.

They went right away to get my bag from their hotel and I could not express my joy. I cried several more times that day. In thankfulness. In relief.

I know, I know that was just a bag of inconsequential items. And every time I prayed that it would return, I also prayed that I would have a heart of peace if it did not. My life will continue without those clothes or whatever, but the gratitude I felt on receiving them back to me was overwhelming. That God would see fit to let me have my 'things' back. To show me He does actually care about my little silly problems. Nothing I did brought that bag back to me. In fact, while I was standing with them, one of the guys said, "I was just wondering why we were standing here by the trash cans rather than by a tree or something!" To which I replied, "You were here so that I could find you!"

What is Driving Me?

Is it a meaningful book I've read? A book that changes the meanings of words and redefines concepts in my heart.

Is it a successful event I've been a part of? Pulling off something I didn't think would ever come together.

Is it a trip I've been on where I felt as though my entire world was turned upside down? As though when I got back I couldn't breathe anymore and didn't know what to do with myself anymore but I had to do something.

Was it a really great sermon? Someone speaking profound truth into my ears so loudly I couldn't help but listen and understand and know.

Is it whatever I consider to be my passion? My love for doing what I do and being who I am and becoming myself more every day.


It is all these things. But it is all these things in the love of Christ. Without His love I don't have passions. Without His love there are no great sermons or great books. Without His love I wouldn't go on trips that change my world or be able to be a part of events or work. Whether I realize it on a daily basis or not, the love of Christ is my one and only driving force. It is why I get out of bed in the morning, why I bother to have friends, why I choose to leave my house or drive my car or go to dinner. It is why I want to serve the children, to give to the hungry, to meet with the lonely, to pray to my God.

It's not profound, but oh, it's so true. And oh that I remember it.

The Smell of Burnt Fur

Still lingers in the air. It's one of those things I've always said would happen. And it did. Clara got her tail too close to a candle and you hear the crackle at the same time you smell the smoke.

It's hard to laugh and trim a tail at the same time.

In other news, we are in the process of getting rid of a cat. It's very sad. Well, no, I take that back. I'm past sad. At the moment, I'm still just angry. We have tried pretty much every training trick in the book, including a pet psychic (yes, it's truly true) nd this morning I cleaned up four spots. FOUR! I cannot have a cat who refuses to use the litter box. I have sacrificed for this cat. I have loved him and fed him and taken him to the vet. I have brushed him and given him treats and scratched him under his chin. But he refuses to reciprocate. Oh, he'll have you believe that he's sweet and innocent and snuggly. But under that furry, cute exterior is a heart of stone. A heart that loves only to pee in the corner.

And so, he must go. Away from my house. To a barn where he can chase mice and eat grass and do whatever he wants to his little stoney heart's content. My heart is stone now also.

The Beauty of Africa; Part 2: The Children

The Beauty of Africa; Part 1

OK, I've Been Lazy Long Enough

So I'll post on what I'm good at: food.

The food in Africa was excellent. We stayed at a children's home where they had many many acres of farmland. Their main producing vegetable is green beans. They export to the European Union to make some money to help support themselves. The beans have a ton of regulations on them. In how they are grown, harvested, cleaned and selected. They have to be absolutely, perfectly straight or they are tossed.

Now, I grow a few meals worth of green beans every year in my little bitty garden. And I have yet to grow a straight green bean. However, this farm grows millions. So many that the imperfect beans are kept for the kids' consumption and only amount to 5% of all they grow. In their highest production month, they export over 32 tons of green beans. Can you even imagine?!



They hire many local village workers to do their greenhouse labor.This helps the farm and helps the local families. Many of whom would have to walk very far distances to find work otherwise. A bicycle is a valuable object and only the well-off own one. Walking is the prime method of transportation.






The greenhouse is four acres square and the beans are on a four block rotation so there is always a section ready to be harvested.
The most amazing part is that the beans are planted in gallen-sized bags filled with porous volcanic rocks. No dirt. They feed and fertilize through the sprinklers. It's unbelieveable.




We had beans in most of our meals. Green beans, tomatoes, onions and rice. Green beans, tomatoes, onions and fried potatoes. (and the occasional Coke as a respite from water, water, water)

Or lentils, tomatoes, potatoes, and a fried flatbread.
I know some of the boys got tired of not having meat in their meals, but I thought everything was amazing. So fresh and so flavorful and so healthy. I find myself craving green beans. And tomatoes and lentils and flatbread.

I'm also craving Africa.

Forward and Back

Welcome to the USA. Everyone speaks English. Everything is so clean.

But it doesn't seem the same here. It all feels different. It's not right.

Was I really just in Kenya two days ago?

I have much to say. Much to show. But it may take me a while to get it all out. I'm emotionally drained and physically exhausted. I'm not sure what day it is or when I am supposed to do what.

Keep watch. There will be much to teach. Much to learn.

Tomorrow...

I'm leaving for Kenya. It's weird because everyone keeps asking me if I'm excited. And I am. It's an exciting trip, an adventure I've never been on, a place I've only read and dreamed about. I could see lions and giraffes and huge expanses of desert.

But I really don't know what to expect. I don't know who I will meet, what I could see, where we will even go. I don't know what God is going to have to say to me through all these people, these new experiences. He works in different ways in a country where people have to FULLY depend on Him. For more than just paying the bills. For more than just safety in travel on vacation. For more than emotional stress in a relationship. For a bigger car and a better home.

Please don't hear me saying that those things aren't important to us, or important to God because they are important to us. They are, but they are not living and breathing.

To depend on God to get at least one meal a day. To depend on God through horrible illnesses, physical abuse. To depend on God for breath, for a scrap of clothing, for a smile once in a while.

So I am excited. I will be overwhelmed and challenged and encouraged and blessed. And I am terrified. I will be overwhelmed and challenged and saddened and troubled.

Please keep me in your prayers while I am gone. Maybe even post a prayer for me here every other day or so. I don't know what to tell you to pray for. Our itinerary is pretty fluid. But you'll know. You'll all have something different on your hearts that will be just what we need at the right time. So thank you in advance. And I hope I'll have much to share when I return.

Things to Do

1. Upload tons of new music into ipods. Charge ipods.

2. Spray all clothes with bug repellent. (Must not get West Nile Virus)

3. Buy new underwear as package already purchased was wrong size. (Like I don't know my underwear size? What is my problem?)

4. Pick out good book for plane reading. Not too big as is not much room in backpack, but not too short as to finish it too quickly.

5. Walk brother through watering all plants so none will die.

6. Empty and refill all litter boxes so no accidents will occur. (Please let no accidents occur!)

7. Clean off memory card of camera. Pack extra batteries.

8. Go through all lists and make sure have all needed for trip.

9. Pack backpack.

10. Run to store for something left off list.

11. Stay up extremely late.

12. Sleep in extremely late.

13. Worry that am forgetting something important.

14. Go to airport. (Too late for whatever was forgot)

Flipper

I often wonder if I am too flippant. And then I decide I probably am. Then I wonder if that is a bad thing. And that I am not sure of.

I think I wonder this because so many people around me are often so serious. And that's not a bad thing. There are an awful lot of things in life to be serious about. There's more crap than most of us should have to live through, but we do.

I read so many good books this summer, most of which were nonfiction. Thoughts and ideas and philosophies. My brain feels well used and stretched. I often find that books that don't make me think at all are tasteless and pithy. I can't finish them.

I like random entertainment in a movie. But I also need a film now and then that challenges how I look at the world.

Anyway, all this to say that there has been enough in my life that is serious, and there is sure to be plenty more to come in the future. I need to laugh all the time. My life is lived for smiles. I want to provide the levity, the break, a bit of sunshine.

I hope I do that. I hope I'm not flippant or shallow but that I bring joy and fun and light amidst a life of sorrow and seriousness and bleakness. I just wanted you to know that. That's who I am, that's what I'm made for. I'm always afraid people don't think I'm smart enough or deep enough or whatever enough. But I'm me enough.

I think I'm reminding myself of this as much as anything else.

Truth

Why Do Cats...

My dearest Heather has asked some good kitty questions. I am assuming this means that she has brought Teva home and is resettling in with her sweet feline.

Why do cats eat grass (esp. b/c they/she just throw it up)?
Will my cat stop eating grass if she gets used to being outside?

This is a very common kitty malady. Or habit, whatever you'd like to call it. Every single time we let our cats outside (which is not often partially due to this situation) they head immediately to the grass to start mowing. So kind of them. To mow the grass for us.

I think there are two reasons for this. One is physiological.Cats cannot digest grass and they will always throw it up. They somehow know this and when they can't get a hairball to pass (gross, I know) they will eat grass or a plant to take care of the situation.

The other reason I believe that cats eat grass is because they can. It's different. It's not something they usually eat. It's a different and interesting texture and taste in their mouth. They are weird like that. Why does a cat climb into a plastic bag or a cardboard box? Because they can.

Unfortunately Heather, Teva will not stop this practice if she becomes accustomed to the outdoors. She'll just have more ready access to it. However, she may be more likely to "get rid of" the grass/hairball outside as opposed to bringing it in for you to clean up. If you see her eating the grass, give her a little time before bringing her back in and you'll save plenty of money on paper towels.

Iggy Likes to Hide

Ok, so I know this isn't the greatest picture. But he is behind the table, behind the door and behind the curtain.

He was in my pink room, so maybe he was just embarrassed to be caught in there. Only his little pink nose sticking out.

Organization

A while back I read on someone's blog about how they had found or bought or thought about buying cute patterned file folders.

(Again, boys you may want to look away from the blatent girliness that will follow)

I love to orgnize things. I'm not saying I do it all the time or even that I keep it orderly once I have done the job, but I do love doing it. My books are organized by genre and author in my library. Movies also separated certain ways. Closets, shelves, drawers. It makes me so happy to see them in their orderly perfection.

So when I read that post about fancy, girly, pretty file folders, my heart jumped. (Yes, I often have a silly heart) I followed the link and looked at the vintage patterns, the feminine swirls, the cutesy bubbles. But the prices seemed a bit high for cardboard. Mind you, I wasn't above ordering them the moment I fell in love with them, but I did amazingly refrain.

And have been searching diligently hither and yon for more affordable options. Target online had very cute patterns. However, I couldn't find them in the store. And I wanted to be able to be sure they were just what I wanted. I wanted to hold them in my hand.

Imagine my surprise this weekend when I found the perfect PERFECT file folders at Old Navy! (I was returning some pants I had bought for my husband online [I can only find pants for him online as he has a longer inseam than any regular store anywhere bothers to carry] which had claimed to be the correct size, but in fact, they were not. Curses.)

So I scooped up four sets of them for my perfect home office organizing. All in shades of pink. Of course.

All this to say, if you are organizing (or would like to organize) any office, I would recommend popping over to ON and grabbing a few of these while they're hot. There are even stylish masculine designs for anyone inclined to venture outside of the boring off-while folder.

They Won't Hurt You

Best Porch Ever

There was the emptying of the porch. The removal of old rotten wood.

There was the purchase of new wood paneling, carpet, nails and various other building sundries. (I just like using that word. I'm not sure if it means what I think it means.)

There was the caulking of the windows until the very possibility of water leaking was completely prevented. At least for a good ten years or so.

There was the laying and the measuring and the rolling and the unrolling and the cutting and the fitting and the taping and the gluing of the carpet.

There was the priming and the painting of the walls and the cutting and fitting and nailing and painting of the trim.

The windows were washed, the furniture was restained & painted and new cushions were made.

Everything was put back in and arranged.

Now it is cozy and clean and fresh and smells like new carpet. Now there is no more random stuff lying about. Now there is no clutter, no trash, no dead leaves. Now there is a lovely palm tree to make it feel homey and tropical.

We ate lunch in the middle of the new clean floor. This was also one of our fastest projects ever. Two weeks! Unbelieveable.
Feel free to come over any time to take a nap or eat your lunch. Even if we're not home. :) It's a very cozy porch to sit on. I'd be happy to share its coziness with you.

Ahhh

A hard work day.

A short nap.

A good movie.

A long bike ride.

A yummy dinner.

A hot coffee.

Another long bike ride.


A bubble bath.