Hey everyone!
Today was a tough one for me (Joy) but all is well. We're getting up early tomorrow morning so it'll a very short post here.
Pray for the Congo, about 1,000,000 refugees are flocking to the city of Goma which is quite near the Rwandan border. If the refugees are coming for relief, it may have devistating affects on the already hungry povertous people of Rwanda. Pray for hunger to be quenched (it's been 4 days now with very little food for families including children and the elderly), for bravery to be caught and for organization. Lots of relief is coming in but pray that it gets to those who need it.
We are all quiet safe in Kigali, and doing well as we continue to minister to the people. We're in excellent health and continue to praise the Lord for all that He's provided for us!
More later,
joyous
Serving the Rwandese Orphans and giving them a voice.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Kibuye (KeeBooYay)
Hello Friends!
The road from Gitarama to Kibuye was insane! You simply would've had to see it to believe it. I would've taken video footage of the drive... but I was holding on for dear life to keep from being tossed into Chrissie to my right and the door to my left! Truly, there were NO stretches of straight road. It was two hours of screeching left and right turns. And, in Rwanda, the only rule seems to be: try not to hit anyone. Speed limits? Everyone knows where the police stand, so there are backlogs there. Side of the road? The rule seems to be, stick to the inside of the curve and hope there isn't any oncoming traffic around the bend... and to top it all off, Chrissie said that he was driving extremely cautiously today! Gracious! We traveled from Kigali on the left to Kibuye on the right. From Gitarama west is the crazy part, though the map will hardly do it justice.
Tomorrow we are sitting in on a training seminar associated with Hope International. We'll learn more about microfinance through Savings Groups.
Nancy here. Been silent for a while on the blogspot, and I'm back!
Today, Joy and I saw some of the most beautiful landscapes of our lives. We traveled all the way to the western border of Rwanda to Lake Kivu. Chrissy and two of her coworkers were paying a surprise visit to one of their churches. Chrissy invited us along to explore the lake since that area was home to Immaculee Ilibagiza, author of Left to Tell, one of our first glimpses into Rwanda and the genocide.
We decided to use our hour of free time to take a boat ride and we don't regret it!! Here are some of the stunning views we saw. It's not hard to understand why Immaculee said she grew up in paradise.
Even though the lake was astounding, the views on the drive may have topped it. Simply amazing.
The road from Gitarama to Kibuye was insane! You simply would've had to see it to believe it. I would've taken video footage of the drive... but I was holding on for dear life to keep from being tossed into Chrissie to my right and the door to my left! Truly, there were NO stretches of straight road. It was two hours of screeching left and right turns. And, in Rwanda, the only rule seems to be: try not to hit anyone. Speed limits? Everyone knows where the police stand, so there are backlogs there. Side of the road? The rule seems to be, stick to the inside of the curve and hope there isn't any oncoming traffic around the bend... and to top it all off, Chrissie said that he was driving extremely cautiously today! Gracious! We traveled from Kigali on the left to Kibuye on the right. From Gitarama west is the crazy part, though the map will hardly do it justice.
Tomorrow we are sitting in on a training seminar associated with Hope International. We'll learn more about microfinance through Savings Groups.
I'll leave you with a picture of me and my little precious namesake! Claude and his wife pay me such an honor to give their daughter my name! We'll see them again on Friday night at their church service - the pastor invited us to come and preach at the service! Gracious! Wouldn't have been my idea, but it'll be a great opportunity to share what the Lord has done in our lives and through our time here in Rwanda.
~nancy
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Another Nancy!
This is Keza NANCY Shekinah, and on the right, Nancy with Mum and Dad. Our driver for our Compassion International visits invited us home to meat his daughter, the one he named after Nancy. WHAT!? Honestly, what an honor, surprise and it's something that leaves you speechless. We were instantly in love from the moment we held her.
Just after that visit, we joined Claude at his church to listen to/record another choir rehearsal. Just as we were about to leave, the rain came down like a flood from the sky, hailing as well. This poor lad was a bit wet when he arrived through the doors. Please pray. When it hails there is potential for crops to be ruined and hunger to ensue. So while you take up concern with the Lord, lift of His people in Rwanda, that the crops would heal from the hail and yield a terrific harvest!
This same church we attended today invited us back on friday night where the want us to be a part of the service. Again, we're honored beyond what we're worthy of, and we just ask God to be all that breathes within us. Please pray for us and for this coming friday evening!
I got the best, clearest and most desired recordings today. The choir was lively, dancing with feet keeping beat, arms held high and voices lifted up! The first time I heard a choir alone let loose without a synthesizer or electronic lead. Just people.
Just recently I mentioned my friend, Claudine. Tonight we came to her home where she is a parent to her siblings (3 of them) even though she is only 20 years old. We sat around a table there at the compound with a living room FULL of people behind us. We were a little uncomfortable at first, but soon, the night gave to singing and even a little bit of dancing! Imagine that! HAHA!
In Rwanda, they are a very loyal, hospitable people. Often, even though there is begging on the streets, they are a people who look out for each others needs a lot more than we commonly see in the states. I have seen more than once, hungry people giving food to other hungry people. My children with compassion sharing chocolate with friends without having any themselves. We have been corrected very well! Life is not solely about one person, it's about all of us, and the Maker who fashions us together with the fibers of love. We were so glad to be in their company tonight! Thank you God, for a chance to know these people and to talk freely about the saving grace of Jesus with them!
More to come tomorrow night! Love and joy to you all who are praying! And thank you immensely!
Joyous
Today is "Public work" day. Every family comes out of their homes and cleans around their house on the last Saturday of every month. So, it sort of forces a bit of stillness in the morning. Jano and Chrissie are both spending time in their books with a cup of tea. Nancy is resting and I am restless. Haha! You can hear the sound of brooms sweeping and singing. The sky today is the first one which isn't overcast. Bird songs sound so different and almost happier when the sun is out.
This is a woman we call Rachel. She helps Chrissie by going to market and by cooking when she has guests staying. Our meals have been so delicious here! Rachel loves Jesus and seems to leave pieces of His joy wherever she goes inside or outside.
Yesterday, we spent time city dwelling with Marcell! It was the first time I recognised a face other than Marcell's while we were out. Between those occasions and making new friends (Claudine, Alice, Yvette, Judith, Rose and Yvonne) it feels a little easier to talk freely with the beautiful people here. The two most popular topics in passing conversation are Jesus and English to Kinyarwanda translation- two things people can't seem to get enough of here. I would have pictures of my friends for you, but sadly, my camera is broken. :( The lense function no longer functions. Nancy is very generous to use her camera to capture sights we both see and communicate them to you (to save them also for us and ministry in the future).
Savings Groups
Would you look at these faces? These are our new friends that are working with a ministry that is initiating "Savings groups" among the people. The ministries are country wide, but this group works with savings groups through the local Anglican church body in Kigali. However, Malou is special. She the lovely lady in the purple shirt. She gets to go all around Rwanda, aiding church leaders as they need further guidance and application.
"Savings groups" unite groups of local people with a common goal: to learn to save money, restore trust with each other(post-genocide) and defeat poverty eventually all with the constant focus on Jesus Christ.
The day we came to visit, a major training had just finished. Church leaders from all over the country, in 10 different diocese came to know how Savings Groups work and how they will teach the leaders beneath them and then the local people how to apply the teaching and benefit from it.
Diana, the young lady in the brown shirt, invited us to the choir practice that evening at that Anglican Church. We felt like we belonged in the group we sat in, singing American songs along with them. For me, there was an overwhelming sense of unity that reminded me of Psalm 133. "Oh how sweet, and oh, how blessed it is for the Brethren to dwell together in Unity."
Songs to Jesus filled the church from the lowest corners to the tallest corner of the steeple. The song we learned that night was the song by Watermark "Make My heart Your Home".
We came back home at 7 to have dinner with new friends, Jean Marie and his wife Sandra. Jean Marie has a very gentle spirit and the biggest smile I think I've ever seen. Sandra, though she didn't speak much English, brought grace to the room and a steadiness as their children happily played around her. We learned a lot more about the inner workings of Microfinance and how it affects the lives
of the people.
I'll leave you with this picture. These lizards are most welcome in dwellers in homes, out of them and in the forests. They eat mosquitoes and other insects - :) - they are most welcome in homes and cute to watch as they squiggly creep up walls.
Thanks for praying for us! We love you! Tomorrow we are visiting Kibuye and Lake Kivu with Chrissy. Home ground to Imaculee Ilibagiza, author of the book "Left to Tell".
This is a woman we call Rachel. She helps Chrissie by going to market and by cooking when she has guests staying. Our meals have been so delicious here! Rachel loves Jesus and seems to leave pieces of His joy wherever she goes inside or outside.
Yesterday, we spent time city dwelling with Marcell! It was the first time I recognised a face other than Marcell's while we were out. Between those occasions and making new friends (Claudine, Alice, Yvette, Judith, Rose and Yvonne) it feels a little easier to talk freely with the beautiful people here. The two most popular topics in passing conversation are Jesus and English to Kinyarwanda translation- two things people can't seem to get enough of here. I would have pictures of my friends for you, but sadly, my camera is broken. :( The lense function no longer functions. Nancy is very generous to use her camera to capture sights we both see and communicate them to you (to save them also for us and ministry in the future).
Savings GroupsWould you look at these faces? These are our new friends that are working with a ministry that is initiating "Savings groups" among the people. The ministries are country wide, but this group works with savings groups through the local Anglican church body in Kigali. However, Malou is special. She the lovely lady in the purple shirt. She gets to go all around Rwanda, aiding church leaders as they need further guidance and application.
"Savings groups" unite groups of local people with a common goal: to learn to save money, restore trust with each other(post-genocide) and defeat poverty eventually all with the constant focus on Jesus Christ.
The day we came to visit, a major training had just finished. Church leaders from all over the country, in 10 different diocese came to know how Savings Groups work and how they will teach the leaders beneath them and then the local people how to apply the teaching and benefit from it.
Diana, the young lady in the brown shirt, invited us to the choir practice that evening at that Anglican Church. We felt like we belonged in the group we sat in, singing American songs along with them. For me, there was an overwhelming sense of unity that reminded me of Psalm 133. "Oh how sweet, and oh, how blessed it is for the Brethren to dwell together in Unity."
Songs to Jesus filled the church from the lowest corners to the tallest corner of the steeple. The song we learned that night was the song by Watermark "Make My heart Your Home".
We came back home at 7 to have dinner with new friends, Jean Marie and his wife Sandra. Jean Marie has a very gentle spirit and the biggest smile I think I've ever seen. Sandra, though she didn't speak much English, brought grace to the room and a steadiness as their children happily played around her. We learned a lot more about the inner workings of Microfinance and how it affects the lives
of the people.I'll leave you with this picture. These lizards are most welcome in dwellers in homes, out of them and in the forests. They eat mosquitoes and other insects - :) - they are most welcome in homes and cute to watch as they squiggly creep up walls.
Thanks for praying for us! We love you! Tomorrow we are visiting Kibuye and Lake Kivu with Chrissy. Home ground to Imaculee Ilibagiza, author of the book "Left to Tell".
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Les Milles Colline - A thousand hills
They call Rwanda the country of "a thousand hills" and today as we visited Butare, in the south of Rwanda, we found out why. God seemed to have rolled out the red carpet when he created this place. The hills presented themselves filled with work (of man and God) and absolute beauty. Flowers here and there were brilliant red, yellow, white and pink! Bird songs just stopped us in our tracks and we walked a path (sometimes narrow, sometimes wider like the one in this picture) singing Rwandan songs together about Jesus. Today was very special for me (Joy). It was the day that I met Mukanyandwi Jacqueline for the first time! This is the child that we have sponsored for the longest and the one who we knew most about, and who knew most about us.
We felt so special today! When we first arrived at the Compassion International school, they sat us in the front of the church, with pews filled with children (253 to be exact, 3 of which don't have sponsors yet) and invited us to sit facing the crowd. We met Jacqueline (!!! who glowed from the time she came in!!!), listened to the choir sing and then dancers came in with the leader singing in a beautiful loud voice and playing 3 drums that looked a lot like the djembe. We were led through the sea of smiling, very happy children into the main office there at the school. We heard about the inner workings of Compassion (go to www.compassion.com) then we were off on a long walk through the most beautiful setting I have ever seen to visit Jacqueline's home.
We heard that her brother and his wife who was living right next to her, had just given birth for the first time to twins and today they are 4 months old! A boy and a girl! When we arrived, we had the joy of holding each of them. Here's Nancy will little baby Marissa. And Jacquline's precious Nephew who's name I can't remember, but it means "sent from God".
When visiting their home, we were amazed that it was through the sponsorship of compassion (and a gift of $50) that constructed the very house we were sitting in, from the ground up! There was no running water or electricity, but there was a sitting room, a kitchen, a store room and a bedroom which is more than most have in those parts. Look at what God has done for them through this ministry. If you haven't thought about it, look into Compassion International. Make a difference in the life of a child! I have now seen with my eyes what I knew was happening in her their lives through this ministry. They are given a chance to have a bright future for Mukanyadwi because of it. I've seen the school, met the directors, met her peers and her family. Her manerism, her joy, her thoughtfullness for others and her full, sincere smile has said it all. She has hope, because of Jesus and she is blessed through Compassion.
The visit was cut short by the oncoming of rain, yet we managed to get this picture. Above the doorway reads "Numa RiUmana" which means "After is God". After everything, there is God... Thank you God for hope when everything else fails us.
Since the roads that would bring us back to the city were dirt roads, rain posed a serious threat for safe travel! We ended up making it back to the main roads just before the rain fell, we had dinner with our translators and driver, and boy we had a terrific laugh then! We have loved making new friends in this very beautiful, friendly world over here.Tomorrow we are taking in a much needed morning of rest. We'll be journaling and writing until about 1. Then we're off with Marcel, again. We have no plans, but please pray that we will be filled with God's unabashed love for the people, confidence in His word, a desire to be patient and a quickness to listen.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Transition and Worship
Hello friends! Fun day today. Thanks for all prayers for my belly - things seem to be ok! :) Joy had the honor of meeting 3 of the children that she and Rob sponsor through Compassion International today. It was a fun time of exchange, meeting new friends who work with these dear children, and learning more about Compassion.
Gihozo is front-left with her mom and auntie behind her. Joy is center with Jean Claude, and Sanga is front-right with his mom (and baby sister strapped to her back) behind him.
Then, Joy and Marcel adventured to the market so Joy could buy a few things while Chrissie and I visited Amahoro ava Hejuru - a little business where Rwandese widows make and sell crafts. This is also where our friend Laurel worked when she was here. This one's for you, Laurel! :)
I feel like Joy and I have had some time to settle into Rwanda and the culture here. We've learned some Kinyarwanda phrases, greetings, and vocabulary. Jano, Chrissie, Mugabo, Marcel, and Rakundo are friends beyond acquaintances - they give us that foundation of "family" that helps us to venture out, knowing we have a place to come back to. The hillsides and scenes of Rwanda are more familiar now too. People laden with bananas, chairs, and anything else on their heads and women with little babies on their backs aren't new novelties, but part of the familiar scene.
Gihozo is front-left with her mom and auntie behind her. Joy is center with Jean Claude, and Sanga is front-right with his mom (and baby sister strapped to her back) behind him.Then, Joy and Marcel adventured to the market so Joy could buy a few things while Chrissie and I visited Amahoro ava Hejuru - a little business where Rwandese widows make and sell crafts. This is also where our friend Laurel worked when she was here. This one's for you, Laurel! :)
I feel like Joy and I have had some time to settle into Rwanda and the culture here. We've learned some Kinyarwanda phrases, greetings, and vocabulary. Jano, Chrissie, Mugabo, Marcel, and Rakundo are friends beyond acquaintances - they give us that foundation of "family" that helps us to venture out, knowing we have a place to come back to. The hillsides and scenes of Rwanda are more familiar now too. People laden with bananas, chairs, and anything else on their heads and women with little babies on their backs aren't new novelties, but part of the familiar scene.
On we go with the mission of this trip. It's fun to be accomplishing our goals of seeing and letting you see too. The timing has been perfect, I feel. Now that we're more comfortable with being here, our branching out time is starting. Compassion, Nkurunziza, World Relief, Hope International, Amahoro ava Hejuru Crafts, International Justice Mission, and local churches are all stops on our visit. Grand tour, here we come!
Exciting news of the day: Marcel will be joining us tomorrow when we visit Joy's Compassion children in Gitarama (an hour from Kigali). He grew up there and we're all excited for the time together.
God, here, is more than a nice thought or a being somewhere. He is real, and a (the only) dependable refuge in a world of pain and trouble. Marcel told me tonight, "Four years ago, I heard a man talk about Jesus. He said in Jesus is peace, and my heart saw that peace and said, 'Yes, I believe it.' And I have found it to be true." "An ever-present help in time of need" runs deeper in Marcel's heart than I can understand.
I'm always awed by worship in a new place. First comes that keen awareness of awkwardness in introductions and small talk, then gradual familiarity... but then! to come before one God in adoration and praise - in a church service or in a personal conversation - suddenly changes the focus to a refreshing and glorious health. We are one body, under one Head, Christ. Lifting Him up bonds us together in a way so strong that only those who are His can understand.
I wish I could take every one of you to church Sunday morning for that first moment of turning our focus to Him. We met several people and tried our best to remember cultural lessons. When announcements finished up and the choir began to sing, I was overcome. Rwanda. Africa. This music. This beat. These people. Me. Here. God and Father. All together, Us. Singing. Praising Him. Amazing!!!
Come let us worship and bow down. Let us kneel before the Lord our God, our Maker.
-Psalm 95:6
Sunday, October 19, 2008
The Famous Kigali Tour
Here is a picture of Jano, our host and his son. Missing from the picture is dear Chrissie who we were waiting for in the car at the time this was taken. This was taken just when we had finished the Famous Kigali Tour that Jano is known for. After going on it, we see why. He took us all around Kigali, showing us the area and giving us quite a bit of history behind it all. Jano and Chrissy have been the very picture of hospitality. They have gone to every end and beyond to make sure that we area achieving what we need/want to, translating, transporting and feeding us the most delicious food! I, joy, feel spoiled beyond what I can express here in this little bit of writing. We are most taken care of here.
The Kigali tour took us many places. This is one place that I would like to talk about.
In the beginning of the Genocide, part of the plot to remove foreign forces was to scare them away. The killing began shortly after the President's plane was shot down after signing a peace treaty with the Tutsi leader in a northern country. It was then that the Interhamwe came to kill the Prime Minister. They took the 10 Belgium guards that protected her home, took them back to the camp and executed them at this building. You can see the bullet holes in the wall it, here at the soldier encampment. Looking at this, just feet away from where we stood, made the pain of murder a little closer. We think of those Belgian soldiers, then of the Prime Minister, The president... the people. With this genocide taking place, protective forces left at the threat of others in their army being executed like these were, no other relief came and the world sat back and watched the months go by, eating their dinners and watching the news as the numbers increased to those killed.What can we say? Our host was telling us pieces of his story and we sat listening with questions piling higher and higher. When time came to ask one. . . I had a hard time getting it out. His story so strong and difficult, how could we be worthy of asking anything further from what he told us? Would we cause even more pain by asking him to repeat it? God give us all strength. We want to be instruments of peace, joy, healing. . . hope. Show Jesus to us clearer and brighter. Even in the middle of hearing of all this suffering. Give us empathy to hurt with them.
We got back safely for a relaxing afternoon. Mugabo is such a happy boy and he has a way of filling this house with contagious simplicity. Before the tour, I forgot to mention, we experienced Rwandan church for the first time. Thankfully we weren't the only Muzungu's (white people) there. There were visitors from the Saddleback church in California (Rick Warren's church). They invited all the visitors up to the stage to share! AHHH! In my panic I forgot all the kinyarwanda I knew in my greeting. Nancy did well with introducing herself, her purpose and staying calm infront of purhaps 400 people (Jano translated for us). The singing was beautiful. Two choirs shared, and the congregation joined in freely. The offering was taken with passing a bag on a stick down the aisles. The song "My Redemer Lives" and the chorus got all energetic and exciting. The front row started dancing, jumping and clapping. THEN we saw them lift up chairs and clothing as they rejoiced that their redemer lives!
We're all well, but please pray for Nancy's belly. She's gettin' 'rumbly in the tumbly'.
Please keep the people here in your prayers in light of the above facts!
We love you!
joyous
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Saturday, October 18
Just tried to upload some photos for you - but the connection always breaks before it's finished. We'll try again soon!
Today we slept in - I think we're almost recovered from jetlag!
Late breakfast, and then a guest arrived. Sibomana is a friend of Jano and Chrissie - he's our age and it was fascinating to talk to him about his studies at university and his life, past and present.
Together, Jano, Chrissie, Mugabo, Sibomana, Joy and I piled into the car to visit the Genocide Memorial. Joy and I were the only ones to walk through. The others have been there enough, and live with the pain of the past every day.
The hardest part for me was the room that memorialized the many other genocides of the world - Namibia, Cambodia, Poland... it hurt that I couldn't contain this horror to one place and time. It happens over and over again, and is happening now in parts of the world too.
There is a battle in me - I want to ask questions and hear stories. And every person here has lost so much: family, belongings, trust, security. Each one has a different story. But each one remembers. But to ask, to take pictures, to dig into the deep pains of a stranger - can it be done with respect and love? Should it be done at all?
I want to know so that I can understand and empathize. But I will never understand it all, and I really can't empathize with the pain. So I will just love today. Small times of listening and allowing dignity and seeing people beyond victims of a tragedy that is curious to me. And maybe that is enough. I will hear stories of the war, I'm sure, while I'm here. But I'll let them come to me.
Jano took us on a bumpy tour through parts of Kigali today. It was fun to see beyond our part of the hill, and nice to bring smiles to children's faces as they saw Joy and me in the car. "Muzungu!" they cry! "White person!" I imagine that could be wearing after a while, but today it was fun to be a spot of excitement in the children's day.
Off to bed! Church and more Kigali tour tomorrow.
Thanks to those who are leaving comments! It's great to hear from each of you and encouraging that you care enough to read what we write. :)
~nancy
Today we slept in - I think we're almost recovered from jetlag!
Late breakfast, and then a guest arrived. Sibomana is a friend of Jano and Chrissie - he's our age and it was fascinating to talk to him about his studies at university and his life, past and present.
Together, Jano, Chrissie, Mugabo, Sibomana, Joy and I piled into the car to visit the Genocide Memorial. Joy and I were the only ones to walk through. The others have been there enough, and live with the pain of the past every day.
The hardest part for me was the room that memorialized the many other genocides of the world - Namibia, Cambodia, Poland... it hurt that I couldn't contain this horror to one place and time. It happens over and over again, and is happening now in parts of the world too.
There is a battle in me - I want to ask questions and hear stories. And every person here has lost so much: family, belongings, trust, security. Each one has a different story. But each one remembers. But to ask, to take pictures, to dig into the deep pains of a stranger - can it be done with respect and love? Should it be done at all?
I want to know so that I can understand and empathize. But I will never understand it all, and I really can't empathize with the pain. So I will just love today. Small times of listening and allowing dignity and seeing people beyond victims of a tragedy that is curious to me. And maybe that is enough. I will hear stories of the war, I'm sure, while I'm here. But I'll let them come to me.
Jano took us on a bumpy tour through parts of Kigali today. It was fun to see beyond our part of the hill, and nice to bring smiles to children's faces as they saw Joy and me in the car. "Muzungu!" they cry! "White person!" I imagine that could be wearing after a while, but today it was fun to be a spot of excitement in the children's day.
Off to bed! Church and more Kigali tour tomorrow.
Thanks to those who are leaving comments! It's great to hear from each of you and encouraging that you care enough to read what we write. :)
~nancy
Friday, October 17, 2008
Introductions - and a bit of our 1st day
Introductions:
Jano and Chrissie - the couple we are staying with
Mugabo - their precious little son - he's 2
Marcel - friend of Jano and Chrissie; he'll also be our translator when we need one
[pictures coming soon!]
Today's happenings -
breakfast... and my first (and LAST!) experience with Marmite. [more to come on that topic]
visited the Mother Teresa Orphanage with Chrissie, Mugabo, and Marcel
saw where Chrissie works with an AIDS/orphans organization
made a home visit to a friend of Chrissie's who was injured in a work accident
saw Jano's work briefly - World Relief
came home and had dinner with Jano, Chrissie, and their friends from the UK (Chrissie is also from the UK)
chatting til evening
this morning when i woke up, i laid in bed for a while listening to the neighbors and the songs on their radio use a language new to my ears. the birdsongs were new too. everything is so very new to me that i'm just taking it all in. observing, but not understanding yet. gathering bits of the big picture and soaking in more to fill in the many missing spaces.
so i left the orphanage and the home of a person without access to pain medication - knowing that i don't feel the weight of these things yet. i don't have the bigger context.
the orphanage seemed like a daycare to me. some children were dirty, and there were crumbs on faces, tables, and fingers. but they had just finished eating. they'd have better care in homes, but i didn't see open wounds or hear children screaming or smell uncleanliness. my impression comes without knowledge. each of these children were abandoned... mom and dad aren't coming after work to take them home for dinner and family time before bath and bed.
i can't fathom that yet. i haven't seen enough.
so my understanding of the deep pain and of the immense beauty of these people will grow together. that feels right. i'm excited for our days here. i'm especially eager to hear the stories of marcel and jano & chrissie as they share more with us. they shine. they are truly beautiful with humility and Christlikeness. i know i will grow to love my Savior more through shared time with them.
to those who pray - thank you for your prayers! our God hears.
~nancy
Jano and Chrissie - the couple we are staying with
Mugabo - their precious little son - he's 2
Marcel - friend of Jano and Chrissie; he'll also be our translator when we need one
[pictures coming soon!]
Today's happenings -
breakfast... and my first (and LAST!) experience with Marmite. [more to come on that topic]
visited the Mother Teresa Orphanage with Chrissie, Mugabo, and Marcel
saw where Chrissie works with an AIDS/orphans organization
made a home visit to a friend of Chrissie's who was injured in a work accident
saw Jano's work briefly - World Relief
came home and had dinner with Jano, Chrissie, and their friends from the UK (Chrissie is also from the UK)
chatting til evening
this morning when i woke up, i laid in bed for a while listening to the neighbors and the songs on their radio use a language new to my ears. the birdsongs were new too. everything is so very new to me that i'm just taking it all in. observing, but not understanding yet. gathering bits of the big picture and soaking in more to fill in the many missing spaces.
so i left the orphanage and the home of a person without access to pain medication - knowing that i don't feel the weight of these things yet. i don't have the bigger context.
the orphanage seemed like a daycare to me. some children were dirty, and there were crumbs on faces, tables, and fingers. but they had just finished eating. they'd have better care in homes, but i didn't see open wounds or hear children screaming or smell uncleanliness. my impression comes without knowledge. each of these children were abandoned... mom and dad aren't coming after work to take them home for dinner and family time before bath and bed.
i can't fathom that yet. i haven't seen enough.
so my understanding of the deep pain and of the immense beauty of these people will grow together. that feels right. i'm excited for our days here. i'm especially eager to hear the stories of marcel and jano & chrissie as they share more with us. they shine. they are truly beautiful with humility and Christlikeness. i know i will grow to love my Savior more through shared time with them.
to those who pray - thank you for your prayers! our God hears.
~nancy
Thursday, October 16, 2008
The First 48 - details
“Wake up momma. It’s time to go to Africa.” My little Gavin said and inch from my face in between coughing. Rob, stood behind chuckling and welcomed the little boy back down stairs. We need to leave in 30 minutes to get nancy reed. The car had been packed, the clothes for the kids laid out and it was just so smooth. There were no spats, no hard words or feelings, there were so many moments that were peaceful enough to take in and analyze what was about to happen. They are staying, I am going to Rwanda with Nancy. We take off in a plane not far away from now. Just a few hours.
The boys behaved, Rob was affectionate, the inlaws accommodating. The dishes were even done. The back of our chrystler town and country was loaded with luggage. 100 lbs of goods for the children in Mother Theresa’s Orphanage in Kigali. Two heavy but appropriately sized carry ons for me, and two more will later come when we picked up nancy reed. I was dressed in my traveling clothes the night before. Almost anything I could do to make the morning smooth, easy and enjoyable the night before, was done. We got to bed at a descent hour. It was around 1:30.
6:30 came and went so quickly. We picked up Nancy and were off to the bank for bill exchange. In Rwanda, you will get a better exchange rate if you have newer, crisper bills. Since we had these balled up, ratty lookin things (in all denominations- down to the 1s) stopping at the bank wasn’t only wise, it was a priority. We were meeting them there early at 8:30. They normally open at 9 but where willing to accommodate us knowing that our flight left from 1:50pm the same day. We made arrangements the afternoon before. We decided to come an hour ahead of time and see if we could spot anyone and ask them if they could help us to do the exchange earlier than 8:30. I rang the bell, the telephone and no one. So we decided to all make separate transactions at the ATM there. Nancy, Dad and I piled our money together and started off to the airport. We were all in jovial moods and full of wonder it seemed. The sun shone in well as it came up. Gavin asked “What?” about nearly every statement, but it didn’t seem to work on our nerves even in the slightest. The air of the car was joy and the destination was trust and hope as we made our way to the Reagan international airport.
We were making excellent time, so we decided to stop for breakfast at Cracker Barrel. I was a little leary of spending the time to have a sit down breakfast the morning of a very important flight, but I was so glad to have a chance to enjoy one last American meal. I went on with no hesitation. We made our way in, sat down and soon enough, Cody-Shawn made his disapproval known. He kept hitting his head on the back of the highchair, and strangely, it bothered him the same amount each time he did it. Eventually, the unspoken call of the irritated patrons of the cracker barrel rang into my mother’s sensitivity and I picked up my little baby, who is not really a baby anymore, and coddled him near as he relaxed a little. A few others did the same. I began to walk around with the boy. He would vocalize a strange hum, as if to be singing and it made my spirit relax. Everything stood still and just walking around the in-restaurant store among nick nacks and lights changed from a moment of easing my child to that of bringing us both to a place of serene space. We anticipated nothing, and there we were: Accepting each other, loving and enjoying the company while it was there. When I came back a few times there to the table I came on the company all smiling, sharing stories and acting normally, just like a family would on a sonday after church. I don’t know why, but I felt like this may be the last time I see my family. I need to put fear behind me.
Just before we left, I attended study and share at Calvary Church as I do every Tuesday. The message offered by Betty Baltozer was on “joy”. I learned that morning that joy is something that is fruit of the holy spirit. I just assumed it into my little foolish head that joy was something you were either born with, or you weren’t. As a child I was often annoyed at the teasing of my name so much that I began to resent it and learning the true meaning of joy was set aside along with my feelings that came with child name games. I never noted it that joy was evidence of a Higher Power in my life. Joy is not something that comes about by circumstances. As a matter of fact, joy is something that shows up out of nowhere it seems, in tougher situations. Without hard times, you don’t know if you possess joy at all. Joy is a gift that is obtainted well by those who are overtaken by the Holy Spirit. As I listened to dear Betty speak on this subject that just touched a part of me that had been ignored for so long- I felt a seal to my calling. A calling for Jesus. To unabashedly possess His gift to me, and to others through me, of Joy.
We left the restaurant with ease. I seemed to be in a slight panic but kept myself in prayer and thanks. It was nearly a miracle for a person who enjoyed the thrill of panic and rushing around like a straight fool. This time around, I enjoyed my baby’s smiles as he was infront of me, my company all around and boy oh boy, I was going to Rwanda. Here we come, ready or not.
While we waited for the airport to come to the side of the car, we decided to call Marcel, a dear friend we met through equal friends and someone with a heart seemingly made of pure gold. The reception allowed us to listen to a clear voice on the other end. He was kind, happy and sort of professional on the phone. We felt a smile at the end of our 4 minute conversation. Rwanda has been welcoming us with wide, open arms from afar and Marcel has been an embodiment of that hospitality. We are entirely eager to meet our friends just houses down the road from him. Dear Jano and Chrissy, we are excited to see you! What will your house be like? What do you look like and how to you get ready for guests from the US? Where is Mugabo’s room and how often does he sleep the full night through? We wonder, and soon we’ll be satisfied in the company of God’s loved children, a world away from what we are familiar with and just where we are meant to be.
Goodbye’s weren’t as hard as I thought they would be. I kissed my dear baby, my strong 2 year old and loving husband. We loaded large suitcases off of the van and onto the side walk. They made a thud and overwhelmed the sidewalk with weightage of formula, blankets and gifts. This is it. We all looked at each other, snapped a picture or two and took a moment in each other’s arms. God protect us when we’re far apart. Watch us and keep us safe. We looked onward to the doors that opened for us and, thinking we had everything we needed for the flight, we made our way in to the checking counter.
The ceilings high and buttressed well hung about 3 stories over the heads of businessment, beautiful women, 20somethings and families all calmly moving about next to each other. Various dress and languages made the airport feel more like world meeting than a place of travel. Light came in through the windows and I wondered if they needed any lights on at all. I’m sure they did, but I didn’t notice any such thing. We must’ve stuck out as minorities in the airport, but we didn’t feel it. It took a few minutes to snap out of the reality of our trip setting in with the elaborate airport setting and get into the process of getting onto the plane. We marched to the kiosk where you can now, you guessed it, check yourself in, all including your baggage. Who knew. The first step to check in was accessing one’s passport. After searching for about 10 minutes, I was disappointed to find that my own was missing, and the caravan of my dear sweet family (and now my passport) was driving a little over the speed limit going the opposite direction from me. That passport is in the car. My hands began to shake and I forgot about the beauty of the building, the clamor of the rushing people and the wonder of Africa. All was quickly replace by worry, fear and honestly, trembling. I shuffled for my cell phone, dialed Rob and begged him to come back and deliver what I forgot. He acquiesced and we were rescued.
Well, one could’ve guessed with the way it usually goes with us, there was a problem with check in and we were forced into a line of puzzled folk, puppies and others with special traveling needs. It seemed like the minutes became hours in that line where we were the 5th of about 8 people. Nancy and I made a few passing comments about what we were about to get ourselves into with following through with all of these plans into the trip, we laughed and tried to center on Jesus. This is one of those times when you tell yourself as a faulted human being that you need to be quiet with your mouth, still your movements and just be in your situation while bringing to your head songs and promises of the most high. In airports, so much is out of our control, it seems, especially when flying out of the country. We were about to find out another example of humanity, grace and devine intervention. Miracles were upon us.
We lugged our large cart of baggage through the windy line. Adding it all up just now, there were 316 lbs. on that poor cart. And thank God for that cart or we would’ve been juggling all of them like acrobats in a crazy place called the circus. 316 lbs. and only 100 of it was our luggage. We were able to fill the two largest suitcases with about 100 lbs. of formula, and 100 lbs. of blankets, diapers, wipes, toys and the like. One bag, the heaviest, was nearly 52 lbs. We took out a can of formula and, ding, it was suddenly 50 lbs. The next was 51 lbs, and we removed socks and shoes. Ding again. The other two made us nervous as we brought them to the scale. They were two very tightly packed plastic sterilite containers. Both ductaped shut with an obsession and we envisioned making the hard choice of either paying the overage fee of $50 or ripping that duct tape off, removing a solitary article and then taping the sucker back up all over again.
We watched the clock, 1 hour and change until our flight took off and we were just getting our baggage checked. Nancy handed the clerk her passport and I critically thought to myself, huh, that vaccine paper that she has stapled in there looks a little out of place and slightly obnoxious. I looked at the clerk and she was paying attention to that paper. I was familiar with it, that’s the vaccine ‘receipt’ that we were given by that dear nurse back at the travel center after we were inoculated. I had mine in the car, and I only realized it that morning on the way to the airport. I wonder if I’ll ever need that.
I bet I do, look at the way she’s paying attention to what it says.
“Nancy, do I need that form?” Nancy’s expression changed from dutiful to disgust. “Yes, joy. You need that to get into the country.” What happened next, I’m not sure, but I have a rather large bruise on my left cheek. That statement isn’t really true, but that would be expected. We need to call Rob again, now farther away. They were so far away. Nearly 40 minutes. We had about that until our flight was due to take off. We took ourselves to a nearby seat and worked against what felt natural, we gathered, organized, had a snack and prayed for direction and strength. Sigh. We can move through difficult circumstances and that’s when we see if God is really in us, right? Because we’ll have joy inside, we’ll have peace, patience, kindness…. And we won’t have to create them, they will be there. So here’s to that, Lord. We’re all done panicing and we’ll let you take over.
Snacks were sparse, but we seemed to have stumbled on the yummies. Two Odwalla smoothie things and a large cup of fresh fruit. What a good yummy treat! We drank all of the smoothies though we weren’t really into them most of the way through. The energy they produced, we would come to know, would be desired of and well appreciated. We after stuffing our bellies full of fructose and fiber we made our way to the security check point. The line was moving and it was moving pretty quickly for what it appeared to be. The plan was, Nancy, you wait in line with the bags and I will run up, wait for the men to come and give me that paper, then I will, fast like Xena warrior princess come and join you back in the line. Just save my spot. Nancy was uneasy about the idea of her friend cutting infront of then about 100 people. So I excused myself and asked the people behind us, “Would you be offended if I were to leave the line to get something I forgot from the car and then return?” “Absolutely not. Go ahead!” “Do you think that others would be offended?” “That doesn’t matter, you’re in front of me and I’ll let you back in.” Nancy seemed perhaps 40% relieved, but overall remained in disapproval. She however didn’t dispute- we had no other option for making the flight on time but to risk the possibility of offending others in line.
I ran up and prayed for a miracle. God, we’re going to be thankful for life whether we make this flight or not. But God, I pray that somehow, if it will please you, that I can join her at the front, that we would make this flight. But if You have higher purposes, that you would give us joy in missing it. I had a nice conversation with the security guard stationed at the top there and it was about 10 minutes until my task we before me. Here they were, speeding down the road to me as I ran to them, with no words exchanged but “thank you!” I took that yellow paper and ran as fast as I could to meet my friend. My joints weakened under the pressure on them. Not just physical pressure, but emotional. How could this dream, if it’s slowing and changing now, be moving in the way it is. My mistakes will cause a missed flight and now I’m going to fall down this escalator. Nancy was now at the very front of the security line looking worried and sad. I met with the first officer I saw, said to him “I need to give this paper to my friend at the front of the line. We were in line, I forgot it, you see and …” he cut me off, “I’ll give it to her, but you can’t join her.” Then by this point I was standing next to another guard signing passports and tickets to let them to proceed forward to the next step of the screening. “Just be still, unless I sign this paper here, you can’t go through.” He signed, let me though, and I thanked him. Running to meet Nancy, I shook the hand of the person who stood behind her, the man who was willing to let me keep my spot contrary to procedure and common etiquette and filled with thanks, it overflowed into a handshake and a smile. Then one second forward we were being rushed in through the detectors. I didn’t know the rules so I flunked out right away. Bossing and hollering followed us into the situation and didn’t leave it until we did. “You need your bags on the belt! Push them! Push! Push! Laptops need to be by themselves! Push them through the belt! You’re too slow!” I came forward to the drill sergeant figure, where she stood in the doorway of that scary metal detector. I handed her my papers, she passed me through and I waited to put it all back together. Then, (it’s about 2 minutes until they close the gate to our plane) “Excuse me ma’am, let’s just take a look at this bag.” She hauled my heavy carry on over to a room and opened it. She took her time with the gloves and observed my countenance for nervousness. I made light of everything as I felt my previous prayer being answered in the midst of the rush. We made a few jokes about Hershey kisses and undergarments that were in my bag and she moved me onward. “Nancy, I’m through!” She was gathering all of our precious belongings and shoving them into bags so we could rush to the gate.
It takes looking back to appreciate the way we looked hurrying like a sandstorm out of the check point and down the long hall to the terminal. Our hair and faces said it all… frizz, flying, help and Ack! Faster! We were readjusting the shoulder straps, pulling the wheeled bag behind me it was wanting to do pirouettes far away. That bag wanted to be free, I’m convinced. I needed to stop, and shove what was falling out, back into the back while ahead to Nancy, “Just go!” And I should’ve added, “save yourself!” But all is lost in that moment, so I’ll put it in for my own amusement. That weakness came over me again while we ran, looking ridiculous I’m sure. Our gate was the very last one at the end of the hall. An empty waiting area and solitary worker at the front desk greeted us. “Name?” “Derner.” “And Reed?” “Yes! Can we board?!” He took our passes and welcomed us into the flight. We cackled in amazement and joy that we, indeed have made our flight. Can you even believe it? We arrived on a small plane. Just two rows. One to the left of us with double seat, and the other to the right with single seats. Everyone had a window. Our seats were in the fourth row. We slammed our gear and bodies down, and scrambled to organize. Then it hit us: We’re in the plane. We’re not going to be punished for my lacking and yes, Rwanda is still waiting for us to arrive on Thursday evening! We giggled in disbelief, relief and again, joy for nearly the entire flight.
Looking out the window was a new experience. We watched the take off, the land sinking down and away, and the clouds drawing nearer. The plane soared out of the first layer of thick cumulous clouds into a misty sea it seemed. It reminded me of Genesis 1 where it says the Spirit of the Lord was hovering over the waters. You could see that it was there, but there were no edges and it wasn’t something to at all be contained. The white soon vanished and all we could see and feel was the crisp sunlight coming into our window. The arrival of God’s blessing, amidst our humanity, my poor planning and natural coarse of actions and consequences captured the room. Though we were with others flying above the earth, we may as well have been in heaven being handed a beautifully wrapped situation, and God watched as we unwrapped and enjoyed.
We both needed to use the restroom. So as we left the aircraft, I waited for the baggage and was to meet Nancy “Out there” and she left to find relief. Since our baggage was first off, I took off in the same direction with about 120 lbs. of carryon fun. Up a steady sloped ramp, out the main doors, through a large waiting room and to the open door of a public bathroom. I waited for about 10 minutes and decided to walk down to the checkin area at gate 44. All the way at the end of the hall. I struggled with my load, teetered on and off of lovely belts that help you walk faster and soon was there, gate 44. I waited and watched for some time. No Nancy. How frightening for her, for me… we’re needing to leave for Brussels soon and where is she? So the search let on. I piled on that backpack, slung the shoulder strap of the first laptop around me, hooked the other laptop on the handle of my pully thingy and set off. Walking with this weight was no easy task with my floor length skirt and extra grabby croc shoes. Looking to and fro I found no Nancy until I arrived back at the gate from where I came from. She was looking down the hall where I came from with eagerness to catch me somewhere and a hint of panic. I finally caught her attention and she spun around to see me. I sensed relief, frustration and a little gladness from her as she took her backpack stating “Let’s not do that again.”
We wound up recharging our electronics at a kiosk at gate 44 when a gentleman with a guitar case showed up next to us. His name was Tale. He was a tall man with long blondish hair, a soft spoken voice that spoke English well while graced with a Hebrew accent. His family was staying in California and for the first time in their married life, they were apart for more than a few days, this was going to be 3 weeks until he saw them again. While she was staying in California with family, their two sons kept company with his dear wife. He was missing them and it was obvious. We ended up at a pizza shop with this man. Tale was easy to talk to and though he was jewish, there was a look in him that told me he was loving God and looking for the savior, maybe even in Jesus. That pizza idea wasn’t the wisest. We were nearly late for that flight, but just made it. Fed up with the drama, I wasn’t ready for misplacing my ticket at last minute. A thoughtful flight attendant at the gate was quick to ease me with finding me in the system and issuing a new ticket, even as late as it was for boarding an international flight. We had an empty seat next to us that Tale quickly claimed. And as we took off, we began a 6 hours long plane ride. By the end of it, we all got some sleep in those small seats, I shared my faith with Tale and Nancy and I got a little cranky and selfish with our tiredness.
This time getting off the plane was no complication. It was simple. Brussels was a stunning airport in most parts and others were under construction and less welcoming. We said goodbye to Tale and began our walk through the large airport down and around ramps and into a wing marked “T”. We checked in and waited for our bus to take us to another area of the airport. While waiting we started to see African nationals and it was relieving to be in their presence. Among them were two darling siblings. A boy and a girl, probably two years old played peekaboo with me for a few rounds and then waved hello with enthusiasm. I thought of my own boys and how they reminded me of them. Then I thought of those dear children in Kigali without parents, needing them and still prepared myself for the devastation that lies ahead. There’s nothing I can do, it seems to prepare enough, but I will be able to do something until then. God will keep me still in prayer.
The bus finally came to pick us up and we loaded it. Already we felt the culture changing around us. The bus was familiar to one I’ve been on before but the company was changed from what I knew. The change was welcomed and I wanted to jump into empty seats near these people and just know who they were. There was an older gentleman wearing mostly tan colored clothing, a baseball cap and glasses. He was solumn and reflective just staring ahead into openness. His face showed age, pain and experience. His wealth of life not one of us in that bus could own or even understand if he were to share it.
Infront of this gentleman where two businessmen. They wore gold watches and three piece suits. I noticed the one gentleman wore cufflings. Only Established men wore them, in my mind. They were talking closely and touching each other’s for arms in agreement with each other. It was all enthusiastic conversation and eager listening on their side of the bus. There were a few others and the one thing I noticed in their company was that although I was dressed up, I felt dressed down. Hair was done, shoes were shined, they were dressed to impress. I remembered what I heard about the people of Kigali and how they always look so nice, act so well and smile so often. It was true, at least of these people, but who knows if they are going to Kigali or not. So the bus ride was pleasant and short.
On exiting we were greeted at the door by a businessman of some sort. He spoke English, French, German and Dutch. As a matter of fact, everyone in Brussels speaks 4 languages along with him. It wasn’t too difficult feeling inferior with our little 1 language and a half under our belts. He was very friendly, and accommodating. Most of our experience at the Brussels airport was that way. New feelings came along with that airport. People spoke English, but their accents were so different. Finally being the minority, even in the UK was almost a scary feeling. I wished I spent more time paying attention and less time socializing in French class in high school.
The nice man escorted our bus party from the elevator through construction to the rest of the airport. It was refreshing to see it open up from the plywood and plexiglass experience into a vaulted ceiling, stone floored wonderland. There weren’t any shops like other airports, at least not yet. I rolled my luggage over the strong floor’s consistent cracks to our port, T69 the first on the left. We were a little sad to see only one other person sitting there waiting to board, however, aftertime that place would fill well with others from all over making a jet full of color and life.
Brussels flys a classier flight than we’ve experienced in recent times with American Eagle/American Airlines. However, this whole ride, which is supposed to be the longest of them all, seems like the shortest. Both Nancy and I have been sleeping on and off. Each time I wake up I see new sights in that blessed window next to me. My first view of Africa was one of them! She greeted me like a parade! I saw green, then patterned farm lands and the closer I looked I saw dirt roads. Clusters of communities gathered here and there around mountains and how majestic the mountains were! Brown, green and deep red life decorating these pillars of earth who time and the elements birthed with command from the mouth of God commanded the land and space of the scape as people established about it with thanks and respect nearest to water usually. The roads were windy, and I could make out what looked like a wind farm. A people group stationed in the center of the mountain, away from it all, and no doubt feeling a little chillier than those below caught my attention. All of this to live by and I pray the are in harmony. God bless those dear ones, and oh sweet days, Hello Africa!
We’re going over what looks like the Sahara, and would you believe that it’s -61 degrees outside… oops. Gotta go. Ice cream! Who served that on airplanes? Is HERE! Gotta go.
Zia is from Pakistan. When we went to sit and wait an hour before check in at the gate, he greeted us and that turned into about 2 hours of conversation, probably the most educational, pleasant conversation we’ve enjoyed this trip. He said so much, but here’s a small account of what we learned. He’s on his way back from a vacation in California with his sister and her family. He’s a soldier for the UN keeping peace in the Congo. Pakistan offers more troops than any other nation in the world to the UN annually. He’s a major in his the army there. He’s got dark skin and hair, he seems to live simply by the looks of him. His luggage didn’t match, he wasn’t recently shaved, but he was pleasant and kind, especially with having spent the last day in an airplane and he was onto another 8 hour flight. He mentioned that America was good to see. He has had built up an understanding of what we are like here from the media, from movies of people living a carefree, workfree lifestyle, laziness and the like. He mentioned that traveling there opened his eyes to the fast paced world of the US. It also helped him to knock down walls of any prejudice that were standing. However, he prefers his own home to the Us for a place to reside. However, he would love to be in a cooler climate so even though he’s never visited, Scotland is for him. He took one of our cards and I hope he visits our site and learns about what we’re up to. I’m so glad and honored to have met a soldier. He is stationed in the Congo currently as a peace keeper, protecting local people from the violence of warring malitias. These little armies are fighting over gold. And his job is to protect the innocent. What a hard year it must be for him to wake up every day and do this, but defending those who have no protection has to give him some fuel to keep doing this sacrificial act.
Flying over what appears to be desert lands in Africa. It seemed like a sea of sand. No dunes, no live, just sand. For a few hours I looked out and kept asking, what is that? Dark patterns began to form in the nothingness. Was it the Nile? Is there a river in the desert? Soon after that I saw more, a straight line pattern in the sand. It’s a road! Who is out in the desert? And then the mountains formed of what looks like from here petrified sand that was tired of blowing around forming opinions with other sand that was tired of blowing around formed a merger with whatever life and elements they could find and just stayed put. Ah that’s better.
The wings of the plane still look the same, and it’s a wonder to me that they would tolerate the beauty so often. Wouldn’t they want to just be a part of the view? I guess they see above to, if they could and they are part of the view somewhere out there. What has this craft seen? I feel sad by the beauty I’ve missed, but elated in a sense to be a part of it. Not through television or by reading, but by sitting here, flying high above it, the beauty that I can’t control, place, name or remark on to have it bring it to life for a reader. I can only be here, and praise a Maker with my thoughts that He who is making our hearts to beat here in this plane, our lungs to breath and eyes to see. . . has fashioned the earth below with equal mastery. What a maker. What a savior….
What’s about to happen to us? Kigali waits in the wings of 6:30, nearly an hour and a half from now. God, let me see you clearer and take over the controls. I need you to use me and fill me. Be the life in me that will love these people and hear them. Hold me together with your might. The next time I write here, if God wills I will be communicating a miracle. The completion of the planning of something God has formed called The Rwanda Project. Next, we are still just clay.
-joyous
The boys behaved, Rob was affectionate, the inlaws accommodating. The dishes were even done. The back of our chrystler town and country was loaded with luggage. 100 lbs of goods for the children in Mother Theresa’s Orphanage in Kigali. Two heavy but appropriately sized carry ons for me, and two more will later come when we picked up nancy reed. I was dressed in my traveling clothes the night before. Almost anything I could do to make the morning smooth, easy and enjoyable the night before, was done. We got to bed at a descent hour. It was around 1:30.
6:30 came and went so quickly. We picked up Nancy and were off to the bank for bill exchange. In Rwanda, you will get a better exchange rate if you have newer, crisper bills. Since we had these balled up, ratty lookin things (in all denominations- down to the 1s) stopping at the bank wasn’t only wise, it was a priority. We were meeting them there early at 8:30. They normally open at 9 but where willing to accommodate us knowing that our flight left from 1:50pm the same day. We made arrangements the afternoon before. We decided to come an hour ahead of time and see if we could spot anyone and ask them if they could help us to do the exchange earlier than 8:30. I rang the bell, the telephone and no one. So we decided to all make separate transactions at the ATM there. Nancy, Dad and I piled our money together and started off to the airport. We were all in jovial moods and full of wonder it seemed. The sun shone in well as it came up. Gavin asked “What?” about nearly every statement, but it didn’t seem to work on our nerves even in the slightest. The air of the car was joy and the destination was trust and hope as we made our way to the Reagan international airport.
We were making excellent time, so we decided to stop for breakfast at Cracker Barrel. I was a little leary of spending the time to have a sit down breakfast the morning of a very important flight, but I was so glad to have a chance to enjoy one last American meal. I went on with no hesitation. We made our way in, sat down and soon enough, Cody-Shawn made his disapproval known. He kept hitting his head on the back of the highchair, and strangely, it bothered him the same amount each time he did it. Eventually, the unspoken call of the irritated patrons of the cracker barrel rang into my mother’s sensitivity and I picked up my little baby, who is not really a baby anymore, and coddled him near as he relaxed a little. A few others did the same. I began to walk around with the boy. He would vocalize a strange hum, as if to be singing and it made my spirit relax. Everything stood still and just walking around the in-restaurant store among nick nacks and lights changed from a moment of easing my child to that of bringing us both to a place of serene space. We anticipated nothing, and there we were: Accepting each other, loving and enjoying the company while it was there. When I came back a few times there to the table I came on the company all smiling, sharing stories and acting normally, just like a family would on a sonday after church. I don’t know why, but I felt like this may be the last time I see my family. I need to put fear behind me.
Just before we left, I attended study and share at Calvary Church as I do every Tuesday. The message offered by Betty Baltozer was on “joy”. I learned that morning that joy is something that is fruit of the holy spirit. I just assumed it into my little foolish head that joy was something you were either born with, or you weren’t. As a child I was often annoyed at the teasing of my name so much that I began to resent it and learning the true meaning of joy was set aside along with my feelings that came with child name games. I never noted it that joy was evidence of a Higher Power in my life. Joy is not something that comes about by circumstances. As a matter of fact, joy is something that shows up out of nowhere it seems, in tougher situations. Without hard times, you don’t know if you possess joy at all. Joy is a gift that is obtainted well by those who are overtaken by the Holy Spirit. As I listened to dear Betty speak on this subject that just touched a part of me that had been ignored for so long- I felt a seal to my calling. A calling for Jesus. To unabashedly possess His gift to me, and to others through me, of Joy.
We left the restaurant with ease. I seemed to be in a slight panic but kept myself in prayer and thanks. It was nearly a miracle for a person who enjoyed the thrill of panic and rushing around like a straight fool. This time around, I enjoyed my baby’s smiles as he was infront of me, my company all around and boy oh boy, I was going to Rwanda. Here we come, ready or not.
While we waited for the airport to come to the side of the car, we decided to call Marcel, a dear friend we met through equal friends and someone with a heart seemingly made of pure gold. The reception allowed us to listen to a clear voice on the other end. He was kind, happy and sort of professional on the phone. We felt a smile at the end of our 4 minute conversation. Rwanda has been welcoming us with wide, open arms from afar and Marcel has been an embodiment of that hospitality. We are entirely eager to meet our friends just houses down the road from him. Dear Jano and Chrissy, we are excited to see you! What will your house be like? What do you look like and how to you get ready for guests from the US? Where is Mugabo’s room and how often does he sleep the full night through? We wonder, and soon we’ll be satisfied in the company of God’s loved children, a world away from what we are familiar with and just where we are meant to be.
Goodbye’s weren’t as hard as I thought they would be. I kissed my dear baby, my strong 2 year old and loving husband. We loaded large suitcases off of the van and onto the side walk. They made a thud and overwhelmed the sidewalk with weightage of formula, blankets and gifts. This is it. We all looked at each other, snapped a picture or two and took a moment in each other’s arms. God protect us when we’re far apart. Watch us and keep us safe. We looked onward to the doors that opened for us and, thinking we had everything we needed for the flight, we made our way in to the checking counter.
The ceilings high and buttressed well hung about 3 stories over the heads of businessment, beautiful women, 20somethings and families all calmly moving about next to each other. Various dress and languages made the airport feel more like world meeting than a place of travel. Light came in through the windows and I wondered if they needed any lights on at all. I’m sure they did, but I didn’t notice any such thing. We must’ve stuck out as minorities in the airport, but we didn’t feel it. It took a few minutes to snap out of the reality of our trip setting in with the elaborate airport setting and get into the process of getting onto the plane. We marched to the kiosk where you can now, you guessed it, check yourself in, all including your baggage. Who knew. The first step to check in was accessing one’s passport. After searching for about 10 minutes, I was disappointed to find that my own was missing, and the caravan of my dear sweet family (and now my passport) was driving a little over the speed limit going the opposite direction from me. That passport is in the car. My hands began to shake and I forgot about the beauty of the building, the clamor of the rushing people and the wonder of Africa. All was quickly replace by worry, fear and honestly, trembling. I shuffled for my cell phone, dialed Rob and begged him to come back and deliver what I forgot. He acquiesced and we were rescued.
Well, one could’ve guessed with the way it usually goes with us, there was a problem with check in and we were forced into a line of puzzled folk, puppies and others with special traveling needs. It seemed like the minutes became hours in that line where we were the 5th of about 8 people. Nancy and I made a few passing comments about what we were about to get ourselves into with following through with all of these plans into the trip, we laughed and tried to center on Jesus. This is one of those times when you tell yourself as a faulted human being that you need to be quiet with your mouth, still your movements and just be in your situation while bringing to your head songs and promises of the most high. In airports, so much is out of our control, it seems, especially when flying out of the country. We were about to find out another example of humanity, grace and devine intervention. Miracles were upon us.
We lugged our large cart of baggage through the windy line. Adding it all up just now, there were 316 lbs. on that poor cart. And thank God for that cart or we would’ve been juggling all of them like acrobats in a crazy place called the circus. 316 lbs. and only 100 of it was our luggage. We were able to fill the two largest suitcases with about 100 lbs. of formula, and 100 lbs. of blankets, diapers, wipes, toys and the like. One bag, the heaviest, was nearly 52 lbs. We took out a can of formula and, ding, it was suddenly 50 lbs. The next was 51 lbs, and we removed socks and shoes. Ding again. The other two made us nervous as we brought them to the scale. They were two very tightly packed plastic sterilite containers. Both ductaped shut with an obsession and we envisioned making the hard choice of either paying the overage fee of $50 or ripping that duct tape off, removing a solitary article and then taping the sucker back up all over again.
We watched the clock, 1 hour and change until our flight took off and we were just getting our baggage checked. Nancy handed the clerk her passport and I critically thought to myself, huh, that vaccine paper that she has stapled in there looks a little out of place and slightly obnoxious. I looked at the clerk and she was paying attention to that paper. I was familiar with it, that’s the vaccine ‘receipt’ that we were given by that dear nurse back at the travel center after we were inoculated. I had mine in the car, and I only realized it that morning on the way to the airport. I wonder if I’ll ever need that.
I bet I do, look at the way she’s paying attention to what it says.
“Nancy, do I need that form?” Nancy’s expression changed from dutiful to disgust. “Yes, joy. You need that to get into the country.” What happened next, I’m not sure, but I have a rather large bruise on my left cheek. That statement isn’t really true, but that would be expected. We need to call Rob again, now farther away. They were so far away. Nearly 40 minutes. We had about that until our flight was due to take off. We took ourselves to a nearby seat and worked against what felt natural, we gathered, organized, had a snack and prayed for direction and strength. Sigh. We can move through difficult circumstances and that’s when we see if God is really in us, right? Because we’ll have joy inside, we’ll have peace, patience, kindness…. And we won’t have to create them, they will be there. So here’s to that, Lord. We’re all done panicing and we’ll let you take over.
Snacks were sparse, but we seemed to have stumbled on the yummies. Two Odwalla smoothie things and a large cup of fresh fruit. What a good yummy treat! We drank all of the smoothies though we weren’t really into them most of the way through. The energy they produced, we would come to know, would be desired of and well appreciated. We after stuffing our bellies full of fructose and fiber we made our way to the security check point. The line was moving and it was moving pretty quickly for what it appeared to be. The plan was, Nancy, you wait in line with the bags and I will run up, wait for the men to come and give me that paper, then I will, fast like Xena warrior princess come and join you back in the line. Just save my spot. Nancy was uneasy about the idea of her friend cutting infront of then about 100 people. So I excused myself and asked the people behind us, “Would you be offended if I were to leave the line to get something I forgot from the car and then return?” “Absolutely not. Go ahead!” “Do you think that others would be offended?” “That doesn’t matter, you’re in front of me and I’ll let you back in.” Nancy seemed perhaps 40% relieved, but overall remained in disapproval. She however didn’t dispute- we had no other option for making the flight on time but to risk the possibility of offending others in line.
I ran up and prayed for a miracle. God, we’re going to be thankful for life whether we make this flight or not. But God, I pray that somehow, if it will please you, that I can join her at the front, that we would make this flight. But if You have higher purposes, that you would give us joy in missing it. I had a nice conversation with the security guard stationed at the top there and it was about 10 minutes until my task we before me. Here they were, speeding down the road to me as I ran to them, with no words exchanged but “thank you!” I took that yellow paper and ran as fast as I could to meet my friend. My joints weakened under the pressure on them. Not just physical pressure, but emotional. How could this dream, if it’s slowing and changing now, be moving in the way it is. My mistakes will cause a missed flight and now I’m going to fall down this escalator. Nancy was now at the very front of the security line looking worried and sad. I met with the first officer I saw, said to him “I need to give this paper to my friend at the front of the line. We were in line, I forgot it, you see and …” he cut me off, “I’ll give it to her, but you can’t join her.” Then by this point I was standing next to another guard signing passports and tickets to let them to proceed forward to the next step of the screening. “Just be still, unless I sign this paper here, you can’t go through.” He signed, let me though, and I thanked him. Running to meet Nancy, I shook the hand of the person who stood behind her, the man who was willing to let me keep my spot contrary to procedure and common etiquette and filled with thanks, it overflowed into a handshake and a smile. Then one second forward we were being rushed in through the detectors. I didn’t know the rules so I flunked out right away. Bossing and hollering followed us into the situation and didn’t leave it until we did. “You need your bags on the belt! Push them! Push! Push! Laptops need to be by themselves! Push them through the belt! You’re too slow!” I came forward to the drill sergeant figure, where she stood in the doorway of that scary metal detector. I handed her my papers, she passed me through and I waited to put it all back together. Then, (it’s about 2 minutes until they close the gate to our plane) “Excuse me ma’am, let’s just take a look at this bag.” She hauled my heavy carry on over to a room and opened it. She took her time with the gloves and observed my countenance for nervousness. I made light of everything as I felt my previous prayer being answered in the midst of the rush. We made a few jokes about Hershey kisses and undergarments that were in my bag and she moved me onward. “Nancy, I’m through!” She was gathering all of our precious belongings and shoving them into bags so we could rush to the gate.
It takes looking back to appreciate the way we looked hurrying like a sandstorm out of the check point and down the long hall to the terminal. Our hair and faces said it all… frizz, flying, help and Ack! Faster! We were readjusting the shoulder straps, pulling the wheeled bag behind me it was wanting to do pirouettes far away. That bag wanted to be free, I’m convinced. I needed to stop, and shove what was falling out, back into the back while ahead to Nancy, “Just go!” And I should’ve added, “save yourself!” But all is lost in that moment, so I’ll put it in for my own amusement. That weakness came over me again while we ran, looking ridiculous I’m sure. Our gate was the very last one at the end of the hall. An empty waiting area and solitary worker at the front desk greeted us. “Name?” “Derner.” “And Reed?” “Yes! Can we board?!” He took our passes and welcomed us into the flight. We cackled in amazement and joy that we, indeed have made our flight. Can you even believe it? We arrived on a small plane. Just two rows. One to the left of us with double seat, and the other to the right with single seats. Everyone had a window. Our seats were in the fourth row. We slammed our gear and bodies down, and scrambled to organize. Then it hit us: We’re in the plane. We’re not going to be punished for my lacking and yes, Rwanda is still waiting for us to arrive on Thursday evening! We giggled in disbelief, relief and again, joy for nearly the entire flight.
Looking out the window was a new experience. We watched the take off, the land sinking down and away, and the clouds drawing nearer. The plane soared out of the first layer of thick cumulous clouds into a misty sea it seemed. It reminded me of Genesis 1 where it says the Spirit of the Lord was hovering over the waters. You could see that it was there, but there were no edges and it wasn’t something to at all be contained. The white soon vanished and all we could see and feel was the crisp sunlight coming into our window. The arrival of God’s blessing, amidst our humanity, my poor planning and natural coarse of actions and consequences captured the room. Though we were with others flying above the earth, we may as well have been in heaven being handed a beautifully wrapped situation, and God watched as we unwrapped and enjoyed.
We both needed to use the restroom. So as we left the aircraft, I waited for the baggage and was to meet Nancy “Out there” and she left to find relief. Since our baggage was first off, I took off in the same direction with about 120 lbs. of carryon fun. Up a steady sloped ramp, out the main doors, through a large waiting room and to the open door of a public bathroom. I waited for about 10 minutes and decided to walk down to the checkin area at gate 44. All the way at the end of the hall. I struggled with my load, teetered on and off of lovely belts that help you walk faster and soon was there, gate 44. I waited and watched for some time. No Nancy. How frightening for her, for me… we’re needing to leave for Brussels soon and where is she? So the search let on. I piled on that backpack, slung the shoulder strap of the first laptop around me, hooked the other laptop on the handle of my pully thingy and set off. Walking with this weight was no easy task with my floor length skirt and extra grabby croc shoes. Looking to and fro I found no Nancy until I arrived back at the gate from where I came from. She was looking down the hall where I came from with eagerness to catch me somewhere and a hint of panic. I finally caught her attention and she spun around to see me. I sensed relief, frustration and a little gladness from her as she took her backpack stating “Let’s not do that again.”
We wound up recharging our electronics at a kiosk at gate 44 when a gentleman with a guitar case showed up next to us. His name was Tale. He was a tall man with long blondish hair, a soft spoken voice that spoke English well while graced with a Hebrew accent. His family was staying in California and for the first time in their married life, they were apart for more than a few days, this was going to be 3 weeks until he saw them again. While she was staying in California with family, their two sons kept company with his dear wife. He was missing them and it was obvious. We ended up at a pizza shop with this man. Tale was easy to talk to and though he was jewish, there was a look in him that told me he was loving God and looking for the savior, maybe even in Jesus. That pizza idea wasn’t the wisest. We were nearly late for that flight, but just made it. Fed up with the drama, I wasn’t ready for misplacing my ticket at last minute. A thoughtful flight attendant at the gate was quick to ease me with finding me in the system and issuing a new ticket, even as late as it was for boarding an international flight. We had an empty seat next to us that Tale quickly claimed. And as we took off, we began a 6 hours long plane ride. By the end of it, we all got some sleep in those small seats, I shared my faith with Tale and Nancy and I got a little cranky and selfish with our tiredness.
This time getting off the plane was no complication. It was simple. Brussels was a stunning airport in most parts and others were under construction and less welcoming. We said goodbye to Tale and began our walk through the large airport down and around ramps and into a wing marked “T”. We checked in and waited for our bus to take us to another area of the airport. While waiting we started to see African nationals and it was relieving to be in their presence. Among them were two darling siblings. A boy and a girl, probably two years old played peekaboo with me for a few rounds and then waved hello with enthusiasm. I thought of my own boys and how they reminded me of them. Then I thought of those dear children in Kigali without parents, needing them and still prepared myself for the devastation that lies ahead. There’s nothing I can do, it seems to prepare enough, but I will be able to do something until then. God will keep me still in prayer.
The bus finally came to pick us up and we loaded it. Already we felt the culture changing around us. The bus was familiar to one I’ve been on before but the company was changed from what I knew. The change was welcomed and I wanted to jump into empty seats near these people and just know who they were. There was an older gentleman wearing mostly tan colored clothing, a baseball cap and glasses. He was solumn and reflective just staring ahead into openness. His face showed age, pain and experience. His wealth of life not one of us in that bus could own or even understand if he were to share it.
Infront of this gentleman where two businessmen. They wore gold watches and three piece suits. I noticed the one gentleman wore cufflings. Only Established men wore them, in my mind. They were talking closely and touching each other’s for arms in agreement with each other. It was all enthusiastic conversation and eager listening on their side of the bus. There were a few others and the one thing I noticed in their company was that although I was dressed up, I felt dressed down. Hair was done, shoes were shined, they were dressed to impress. I remembered what I heard about the people of Kigali and how they always look so nice, act so well and smile so often. It was true, at least of these people, but who knows if they are going to Kigali or not. So the bus ride was pleasant and short.
On exiting we were greeted at the door by a businessman of some sort. He spoke English, French, German and Dutch. As a matter of fact, everyone in Brussels speaks 4 languages along with him. It wasn’t too difficult feeling inferior with our little 1 language and a half under our belts. He was very friendly, and accommodating. Most of our experience at the Brussels airport was that way. New feelings came along with that airport. People spoke English, but their accents were so different. Finally being the minority, even in the UK was almost a scary feeling. I wished I spent more time paying attention and less time socializing in French class in high school.
The nice man escorted our bus party from the elevator through construction to the rest of the airport. It was refreshing to see it open up from the plywood and plexiglass experience into a vaulted ceiling, stone floored wonderland. There weren’t any shops like other airports, at least not yet. I rolled my luggage over the strong floor’s consistent cracks to our port, T69 the first on the left. We were a little sad to see only one other person sitting there waiting to board, however, aftertime that place would fill well with others from all over making a jet full of color and life.
Brussels flys a classier flight than we’ve experienced in recent times with American Eagle/American Airlines. However, this whole ride, which is supposed to be the longest of them all, seems like the shortest. Both Nancy and I have been sleeping on and off. Each time I wake up I see new sights in that blessed window next to me. My first view of Africa was one of them! She greeted me like a parade! I saw green, then patterned farm lands and the closer I looked I saw dirt roads. Clusters of communities gathered here and there around mountains and how majestic the mountains were! Brown, green and deep red life decorating these pillars of earth who time and the elements birthed with command from the mouth of God commanded the land and space of the scape as people established about it with thanks and respect nearest to water usually. The roads were windy, and I could make out what looked like a wind farm. A people group stationed in the center of the mountain, away from it all, and no doubt feeling a little chillier than those below caught my attention. All of this to live by and I pray the are in harmony. God bless those dear ones, and oh sweet days, Hello Africa!
We’re going over what looks like the Sahara, and would you believe that it’s -61 degrees outside… oops. Gotta go. Ice cream! Who served that on airplanes? Is HERE! Gotta go.
Zia is from Pakistan. When we went to sit and wait an hour before check in at the gate, he greeted us and that turned into about 2 hours of conversation, probably the most educational, pleasant conversation we’ve enjoyed this trip. He said so much, but here’s a small account of what we learned. He’s on his way back from a vacation in California with his sister and her family. He’s a soldier for the UN keeping peace in the Congo. Pakistan offers more troops than any other nation in the world to the UN annually. He’s a major in his the army there. He’s got dark skin and hair, he seems to live simply by the looks of him. His luggage didn’t match, he wasn’t recently shaved, but he was pleasant and kind, especially with having spent the last day in an airplane and he was onto another 8 hour flight. He mentioned that America was good to see. He has had built up an understanding of what we are like here from the media, from movies of people living a carefree, workfree lifestyle, laziness and the like. He mentioned that traveling there opened his eyes to the fast paced world of the US. It also helped him to knock down walls of any prejudice that were standing. However, he prefers his own home to the Us for a place to reside. However, he would love to be in a cooler climate so even though he’s never visited, Scotland is for him. He took one of our cards and I hope he visits our site and learns about what we’re up to. I’m so glad and honored to have met a soldier. He is stationed in the Congo currently as a peace keeper, protecting local people from the violence of warring malitias. These little armies are fighting over gold. And his job is to protect the innocent. What a hard year it must be for him to wake up every day and do this, but defending those who have no protection has to give him some fuel to keep doing this sacrificial act.
Flying over what appears to be desert lands in Africa. It seemed like a sea of sand. No dunes, no live, just sand. For a few hours I looked out and kept asking, what is that? Dark patterns began to form in the nothingness. Was it the Nile? Is there a river in the desert? Soon after that I saw more, a straight line pattern in the sand. It’s a road! Who is out in the desert? And then the mountains formed of what looks like from here petrified sand that was tired of blowing around forming opinions with other sand that was tired of blowing around formed a merger with whatever life and elements they could find and just stayed put. Ah that’s better.
The wings of the plane still look the same, and it’s a wonder to me that they would tolerate the beauty so often. Wouldn’t they want to just be a part of the view? I guess they see above to, if they could and they are part of the view somewhere out there. What has this craft seen? I feel sad by the beauty I’ve missed, but elated in a sense to be a part of it. Not through television or by reading, but by sitting here, flying high above it, the beauty that I can’t control, place, name or remark on to have it bring it to life for a reader. I can only be here, and praise a Maker with my thoughts that He who is making our hearts to beat here in this plane, our lungs to breath and eyes to see. . . has fashioned the earth below with equal mastery. What a maker. What a savior….
What’s about to happen to us? Kigali waits in the wings of 6:30, nearly an hour and a half from now. God, let me see you clearer and take over the controls. I need you to use me and fill me. Be the life in me that will love these people and hear them. Hold me together with your might. The next time I write here, if God wills I will be communicating a miracle. The completion of the planning of something God has formed called The Rwanda Project. Next, we are still just clay.
-joyous
We're here!
We've safely arrived in Kigali. Jano, Chrissy, their son Mugabo, and Marcel all met us at the airport and took us back to their house.
Driving through the streets erased supposed images and replaced them with real Rwanda.
We feel as though we've known these dear people for months. They are calm and welcoming, full of laughs and smiles, gentle and relaxed.
It's late, and we're exhausted, but we wanted to let you all know of our arrival.
We have internet access at the house! So we'll be able to update often. Can't wait to update you more. We are full of promise for our time here.
It's nearing 6pm there, but it's about midnight here - we're overdue for some horizontal, non-airplane-chair rest!!
~nancy
we're actually here! hahahaha. :) that's crazy!
Driving through the streets erased supposed images and replaced them with real Rwanda.
We feel as though we've known these dear people for months. They are calm and welcoming, full of laughs and smiles, gentle and relaxed.
It's late, and we're exhausted, but we wanted to let you all know of our arrival.
We have internet access at the house! So we'll be able to update often. Can't wait to update you more. We are full of promise for our time here.
It's nearing 6pm there, but it's about midnight here - we're overdue for some horizontal, non-airplane-chair rest!!
~nancy
we're actually here! hahahaha. :) that's crazy!
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Is this real life?
Well, here we go! A van full of Derners arrive at my house in 5 hours, and our journey to the airport will begin.
Bags are packed, directions are printed, and tired we are from millions of details. We might just sleep all the way to Rwanda... with a brief anti-nap to get on a different plane in Belgium... and eat some chocolate. :)
That crazy feeling hit me today. The one that would come to me in the van, driving to the High Peaks in the Adirondacks to climb an insanely huge mountain. Something like "Mmm, I'm alive! I love this excitement! This is what I live for!" ... mixed with "Aahhh! What in the world am I about to do?! What have I gotten myself into!? I don't know how this is gonna go!"
Thanks, friends, to all of you who made a special point to: get together with me, call me, run a mile with me, teach me how to use my camera, take me out to eat, shower my world with apple juice, share a Sonic blast with me... and to the gads of people who are letting me borrow everything from a neck pillow to a laptop! Wow, I'm amazed. Gads? Do I use that word? Hm, guess I do now. Guess it's late.
When shall we post again, I wonder??
~nancy
Bags are packed, directions are printed, and tired we are from millions of details. We might just sleep all the way to Rwanda... with a brief anti-nap to get on a different plane in Belgium... and eat some chocolate. :)
That crazy feeling hit me today. The one that would come to me in the van, driving to the High Peaks in the Adirondacks to climb an insanely huge mountain. Something like "Mmm, I'm alive! I love this excitement! This is what I live for!" ... mixed with "Aahhh! What in the world am I about to do?! What have I gotten myself into!? I don't know how this is gonna go!"
Thanks, friends, to all of you who made a special point to: get together with me, call me, run a mile with me, teach me how to use my camera, take me out to eat, shower my world with apple juice, share a Sonic blast with me... and to the gads of people who are letting me borrow everything from a neck pillow to a laptop! Wow, I'm amazed. Gads? Do I use that word? Hm, guess I do now. Guess it's late.
Yawn. I should sleep and let the crazy feelings rest for a few short hours.
When shall we post again, I wonder??
~nancy
Sunday, October 12, 2008
A Last Minute Ministry
After a late night of checking details and packing, it came to my attention that both Nancy and I were allowed to carry two checked bags each (with the weight limit set at 50lbs a piece). Since we are both low rollin' at 26 lbs. of luggage, this opened up another possibility. I wondered if there was any way possible that we could bring the Mother Theresa Orphanage a gift from the believers here in the states. So, I put out a word through email, facebook and my so supportive Adult Bible Fellowship group at church. Within 24 hours, we are loading suitcases with these precious supplies for the orphans there, in the name of Jesus! We have diapers, wipes, formula, baby toys, big kid toys, clothes and lots of blankets! As if that wasn't enough, we were given $525.00 US to buy more formula for the orphans when we got there!
pause.
Isn't it a refreshing thought- When God moves in His people, humans, sinners saved by grace in Christ Jesus, that they all move in the exact same direction toward a need to be met in His Name?
Formula will come into that orphanage in a generous abundance and the possibility is there, since the donation (however unexpected) was large enough, that we are looking into the orphanage's needs of water purification. Those babies, children and nuns just may, if they need it, have cleaner, safer, refreshing drinking water all because of this last minute calling on our hearts. I could almost breath relief for those at the orphanage and we all can sleep tonight knowing that these children will know that God is big enough to move in hearts of strangers to provide for them. Thank you to everyone who gave so freely for the sake of this very precious, last minute ministry!
I love you- beautiful, body of Christ.
-Joyous
This song, by Sara Groves, is the new song of the moment. I think of those babies, the children without parents asking the nuns these words:
Why It Matters
by Sara Groves
Sit with me and tell me once again
Of the story that's been told us
Of the power that will hold us
Of the beauty, of the beauty
Why it matters
Speak to me until I understand
Why our thinking and creating
Why our efforts of narrating
About the beauty, of the beauty
And why it matters
Like the statue in the park
Of this war torn town
And it's protest of the darkness
And the chaos all around
With its beauty, how it matters
How it matters
Show me the love that never fails
The compassion and attention
Midst confusion and disention
Like small ramparts for the soul
How it matters
Like a single cup of water
How it matters
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Details
Hey friends!
We are down to crunch time!
Joy and I just spent the last hour or so brainstorming through last minute purchases, packing details, phone services, and many other details.
We are having a "packing party" Friday night to get everything into one place and see what we're missing. Last-minute shopping for what's missing on Saturday, with a goal that we are packed and ready to go by the end of the weekend.
So much to do and so little time! People keep asking if we're excited, and we are!! but we're in the thick of planning and details too.
Stick around with the blog - the exciting part's coming soon! :)
We are down to crunch time!
Joy and I just spent the last hour or so brainstorming through last minute purchases, packing details, phone services, and many other details.
We are having a "packing party" Friday night to get everything into one place and see what we're missing. Last-minute shopping for what's missing on Saturday, with a goal that we are packed and ready to go by the end of the weekend.
So much to do and so little time! People keep asking if we're excited, and we are!! but we're in the thick of planning and details too.
Stick around with the blog - the exciting part's coming soon! :)
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Others Who have gone before Us
When we look back on today, I pray we will remember one thing: Jesus is touching the world with hope- that so many are being delivered from oppression. We spent an evening at Messiah College's campus taking in the message from Charlie Peacock, Sara Groves, Derek Webb, his wife Sandra McCracken and Brandon Heath with approximately 1,500 other listeners.
We learned so much about a new organization who is active all around the world saving people from oppression and present day slavery (including child prostitution). They are called the International Justice Mission. They are a human rights agency that secures justice for victims of slavery, sexual exploitation and other forms of violent oppression. IJM lawyers, investigators and aftercare professionals work with local officials to ensure immediate victim rescue and aftercare, to prosecute perpetrators and to promote functioning public justice systems. You can find more information- and we encourage you to get involved in any way that you can by first visiting their website: http://www.ijm.org/
Tonight was another reminder at how small we are and how absolutely large our Father in Heaven is. He is in our hearts, even as sinners saved by His grace, and also in dark rooms where innocent children cry and ask for deliverance. He is faithful and has already delivered. What a MIGHTY God we serve!
-joyous
Friday, October 3, 2008
Today is Rwanda Day!
What an amazing, crazy day! I hereby name today "Rwanda Day," celebrated by Joy Derner and Nancy Reed. You're welcome to celebrate as well. (It's highly possible I'll name other days "Rwanda Day" also ...)
I had the privilege of being in email contact with 5 Rwandan friends today, two local friends from Hope International, and an invaluable friend (who has practically become our trip coordinator).
I realize the whole internet/email thing is nothing new... but I'm still floored by the thought of instant conversation between continents! I'm amazed every time I chat with my friend Priscila in Brasil and Katherine in Thailand. Crazy.
Anyway, there in Kigali, all five Rwandans continue to offer warm welcomes to us for our upcoming visit. Two will host us in their home, one will be our guide and translator, one will allow us to visit his choir, and one will introduce us to Hope staff and clients.
Joy and I are humbled by the delight being shown to us. Clearly, it's not based on ourselves - they don't even know us! It is rooted in a love in one God, linking us as brothers and sisters. Amazing that, in Him, we can be bonded to others even before we've met them! Hooray for the body of Christ. Great idea, Lord! :)
All these conversations today, discovering personalities, chatting through details, and anticipating our time there, are fueling my heart with excitement! (I can definitely speak for Joy on that one too.) The reality is setting in - we are actually going to meet these people! Wow!
I'm watching the moon. Yesterday it was just the teeniest sliver. Today, it was noticeably bolder. When it is full and round again, away we fly!
Our purposes are determined, and the plans to carry out those purposes are falling into place nicely. Growing in us, however, is the wonder that God has planted this trip in our hearts, and His purposes are surely bigger than we even know. What will He do on this trip? How will he change us, challenge us, work through us? We look forward with wonder to looking back in wonder. Hope. It's fitting.
I'll leave you with one of the emails we received today - this one is from Marcel, who will translate for us and, judging from his kind spirit, help us with anything else we could possibly need. What a joy it will be to meet him! Happy Rwanda Day! ~nancy
Hello !
how are you doing ? hope you are doing well.
my friends I m telling you the truth I will help you for everthing you will need .I hope that God will help us .
Please let me know when you will arrive at the aeroport? what time and when ?
I love you in name of our Lord Jesus and always pray for your trip to Rwanda.
have a good trip and God be with you
I wishing you the best .
can you call me if is possible . I just wanna hear your voices .Thanks
I'll leave you with one of the emails we received today - this one is from Marcel, who will translate for us and, judging from his kind spirit, help us with anything else we could possibly need. What a joy it will be to meet him! Happy Rwanda Day! ~nancy
Hello !
how are you doing ? hope you are doing well.
my friends I m telling you the truth I will help you for everthing you will need .I hope that God will help us .
Please let me know when you will arrive at the aeroport? what time and when ?
I love you in name of our Lord Jesus and always pray for your trip to Rwanda.
have a good trip and God be with you
I wishing you the best .
can you call me if is possible . I just wanna hear your voices .Thanks
Marcel
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Kinyarwanda
Wanna learn with us?
Muraho: hello
Mwaramutse: Good morning
Mwiriwe: Good afternoon
Muramuke: Good Night
Murakoze: Thank you
Rot Imana: dream of God
Amakuru? : How are you (sort of)
Ni Mesa: (response to how are you)
Ni twa _____ : My name is
Wit twande?: What is your name?
Murakoze: Thank you
Na kibazo: No problem
Ndishimye: I'm happy
Imana iguhe umugisha: God Bless You
Imana Shemwe: Praise God
Ndagukunda: I love you.
Sinzi ikinyarwanda neza: I don't speak Kinyarwanda very well
Sinvuga Ikinyarwanda: I don't understand Kinyarwanda
Muraho: hello
Mwaramutse: Good morning
Mwiriwe: Good afternoon
Muramuke: Good Night
Murakoze: Thank you
Rot Imana: dream of God
Amakuru? : How are you (sort of)
Ni Mesa: (response to how are you)
Ni twa _____ : My name is
Wit twande?: What is your name?
Murakoze: Thank you
Na kibazo: No problem
Ndishimye: I'm happy
Imana iguhe umugisha: God Bless You
Imana Shemwe: Praise God
Ndagukunda: I love you.
Sinzi ikinyarwanda neza: I don't speak Kinyarwanda very well
Sinvuga Ikinyarwanda: I don't understand Kinyarwanda
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
To those who pray -
Here are some things to keep in mind as you come before our Father for us:
Please pray for/that:
-Our diligence in packing and preparing for this trip (we leave 2wks from today!)
-Our quiet rest in the Lord, and active listening to His voice
-Hearts will be stirred to obey Christ through our interactions in Rwanda
-Provision of a laptop for our trip
-Jano, Chrissy, and Marcel (hosts/translators)- to be blessed for their generosity to us
-Continued financial support - at last update, support is at $4100 of $6000 needed. Another update will come soon, and we'll pass that info on to you as well.
-Diligent prayers for us and this trip from our friends and families (you!) :)
Thank you so much!
~nancy
Please pray for/that:
-Our diligence in packing and preparing for this trip (we leave 2wks from today!)
-Our quiet rest in the Lord, and active listening to His voice
-Hearts will be stirred to obey Christ through our interactions in Rwanda
-Provision of a laptop for our trip
-Jano, Chrissy, and Marcel (hosts/translators)- to be blessed for their generosity to us
-Continued financial support - at last update, support is at $4100 of $6000 needed. Another update will come soon, and we'll pass that info on to you as well.
-Diligent prayers for us and this trip from our friends and families (you!) :)
Thank you so much!
~nancy
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