We would like to apologize for being back in the States for more than a week and not making any effort to really talk about our trip on here. In our defense, this inactivity on our part is largely due to a couple of factors:
1) We left our camera in Livingstone and therefore have no pictures at the moment. We figure that talking about our trip needs to be accompanied by pictures, so we're waiting until we get pictures from our teammates.
2) Our lives have gone crazy in the week we've been back. Tiffany is back on the job market, Luke is buried in papers to grade, and now we're looking at moving, possibly as early as June. So much going on...
On a completely unrelated note, we realized that there is increased readership of our blog now and many people have been asking about the origin of the name. To hold y'all over until we get our acts together and start writing about our time in Zambia, go here to read the first post on our blog. It explains the name.
30 March 2009
27 March 2009
Numb
Numbness. This is what I've been feeling since we got back on Sunday, but could never really describe it because I was... well... numb.
But today I started to feel a slight twinge of feeling in my life, and I'm not sure I liked it much. I began to wake up to a world of gray - robbed of joy. I went out on my bike, but felt completely disconnected, but as I went I realized that things really are colorless here. Where are the individuals riding their bikes miles to the market with two live goats strapped to the back? Where are the colorful yet dirty chitinges (spelling?) securing young babies to a mother's back while she balances a basket of greens on her head? Where are the honking vehicles letting you know they're coming up behind you as you walk along the road (on the left side, by the way) and meandering around various potholes and large speed bumps? Where are the stands with fresh tomatoes and cabbage - that in the coming days will be selling papaya and pumpkin leaves with the changing season? Where is the red dirt that inevitably attaches to your shoes, feet everything, yet no one seems to notice because everyone is walking in it?
And what about the people? Where are the welcoming vernacular calls for "white girl" as I run in the morning? Where are the people who reach up to the bus window hoping you'll buy a few ground nuts (peanuts) off of them so they can take something home to their familes for dinner? Where are the orphans who welcomed us with joyful songs proclaiming God's goodness, despite their very sense of rejection and lack of certainty that they will have a meal tomorrow? Where are the eyes that light up as you hand them a small bowl of porridge and joyful giggles as they receive their first toy - a bug made out of an egg carton and pipe cleaners? Where are the children who run down the hill and jump into your arms for a hug before they even meet you - just because they know you're there to see them? Where are the fresh guava trees and mosquito nets?
Where is the tireless grandma who walks up to five miles a day to take a word of encouragement to a woman dying of AIDS, whose children have been taken from her, whose home has collapsed, and who now lays on a mat outside her sister's hut with no energy to eat - not that she has any food to eat anyway...
Where are the people? Here - they're sitting in offices staring at computers looking for ways to make more money while avoiding the necessity of forming more relationships. After all, it's hard to fire people or take advantage of them if you have no relationship with them.
Numb. That's how I've been feeling. Or I guess, not feeling. That is why I was able to keep a straight face when I was told I no longer had a job on Wednesday - I was numb. That is why I haven't been able to really put in words what we saw and experienced in Zambia - I've been numb.
But now I'm gaining feeling. And that feeling tells me I want to go back to where there is color. Where people have joy. Where children sing praises simply because they know God is good. Where people would rather stop and chat then get to a meeting or something else. Where red dirt is a comforting site and much more appealing than gray concrete. Back to Zambia. Where I left a big piece of my heart.
But today I started to feel a slight twinge of feeling in my life, and I'm not sure I liked it much. I began to wake up to a world of gray - robbed of joy. I went out on my bike, but felt completely disconnected, but as I went I realized that things really are colorless here. Where are the individuals riding their bikes miles to the market with two live goats strapped to the back? Where are the colorful yet dirty chitinges (spelling?) securing young babies to a mother's back while she balances a basket of greens on her head? Where are the honking vehicles letting you know they're coming up behind you as you walk along the road (on the left side, by the way) and meandering around various potholes and large speed bumps? Where are the stands with fresh tomatoes and cabbage - that in the coming days will be selling papaya and pumpkin leaves with the changing season? Where is the red dirt that inevitably attaches to your shoes, feet everything, yet no one seems to notice because everyone is walking in it?
And what about the people? Where are the welcoming vernacular calls for "white girl" as I run in the morning? Where are the people who reach up to the bus window hoping you'll buy a few ground nuts (peanuts) off of them so they can take something home to their familes for dinner? Where are the orphans who welcomed us with joyful songs proclaiming God's goodness, despite their very sense of rejection and lack of certainty that they will have a meal tomorrow? Where are the eyes that light up as you hand them a small bowl of porridge and joyful giggles as they receive their first toy - a bug made out of an egg carton and pipe cleaners? Where are the children who run down the hill and jump into your arms for a hug before they even meet you - just because they know you're there to see them? Where are the fresh guava trees and mosquito nets?
Where is the tireless grandma who walks up to five miles a day to take a word of encouragement to a woman dying of AIDS, whose children have been taken from her, whose home has collapsed, and who now lays on a mat outside her sister's hut with no energy to eat - not that she has any food to eat anyway...
Where are the people? Here - they're sitting in offices staring at computers looking for ways to make more money while avoiding the necessity of forming more relationships. After all, it's hard to fire people or take advantage of them if you have no relationship with them.
Numb. That's how I've been feeling. Or I guess, not feeling. That is why I was able to keep a straight face when I was told I no longer had a job on Wednesday - I was numb. That is why I haven't been able to really put in words what we saw and experienced in Zambia - I've been numb.
But now I'm gaining feeling. And that feeling tells me I want to go back to where there is color. Where people have joy. Where children sing praises simply because they know God is good. Where people would rather stop and chat then get to a meeting or something else. Where red dirt is a comforting site and much more appealing than gray concrete. Back to Zambia. Where I left a big piece of my heart.
04 March 2009
Pray With Us
Okay, time to freak out. In less than 40 hours, our flight will depart from DFW (on to D.C. to Johannesburg to Lusaka, arriving in Lusaka at 9 p.m. their time Saturday night - 1 p.m. Central time). I'm going to Africa! and soon! It's happening!! EEEEK!
Breathing... breathing...
and in the meantime, I need to get some sleep and relax a bit, but thought I'd share a few prayer requests as we prepare for the journey:
Breathing... breathing...
and in the meantime, I need to get some sleep and relax a bit, but thought I'd share a few prayer requests as we prepare for the journey:
- Travel: Luke hates to fly, and anyone who knows me knows I can't sit still for long, much less a 15-plus hour flight... Additionally, in country we will be taking an 8-hour bus ride one day and several flights on small planes. Please pray for safety and sanity through it all.
- Packing: We're transporting a lot of gifts for missionaries, orphans and nationals - please pray that it all fits and that we stay within all weight and size requirements. One pound overweight could cost another $250!
- Customs: Apparently they're really cracking down over there - even Benadryl could get confiscated - it's considered a narcotic. Please pray that we all get through, with all our stuff, without any problems.
- Health: Pray that the anti-malarial meds do their job and no other issues arise.
- Relationships: Please pray that our team of eight will form and maintain strong relationships and will be able to be honest with each other and lift each other up. Especially for Luke and I - this is the most consecutive time we will have been able to spend together since we got married! Also, pray that we may be a blessing to those whom we serve and those with whom we will serve. The missionaries in Zambia have done a lot of work preparing for our visit, and we definitely want them to feel as though it was all worth it!
- General Direction and Grace: Please pray that the Lord will be glorified by this trip, that He will work both in and through us, and that He will open our eyes to where and how He would potentially have us serve long-term in Zambia (or if He has other plans altogether). Please pray that our focus will be first and foremost on the saving grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and that we will be "blessed to be a blessing."
We won't likely be able to communicate again until we return - so have a great few weeks and be looking forward to great stories, beautiful pictures (we end the trip at Victoria Falls), and testimonies of the Lord's goodness.
May He keep you and Bless You.
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