We're Just Warming Up

We’re Just Warming Up

There is this captivating moment just before a symphony begins where we wait with baited breath and intrigue. Murmurs and coughs settle in your ear and the wait is tangible. The silence is full like someone blowing up a balloon almost too full before it bursts. The audience palpable is comprised of people who have perused the program to the point of empty memorization. No one really knows what those Italian and German songs are. In all honesty most of the audience can only hold an intelligible conversation on the top Olympic Dream Team composers…you know them already..”Bach, Beethoven and Mozart ok and maybe Chopin…At best we are wannabe-connoisseurs of musical wine-tasting. We swirl the glass, sniff and examine the legs but we have no idea what rare libation we are drinking. But we read with intensity and hopeful recognition that we may be fully engaged with this temporary community. We hope that everyone with take the experience seriously. No one would dare take part and talk or laugh at an inappropriate time. This is just as much to feed the Mozart within us as it is to share love and be immersed in something pure and existential with a stranger. Music is a soothing dose of perfection. It is science, emotion, creativity, creation, physics, community, mathematics and language in a beautiful dance. It is a drip of what heaven stamped eternity must feel like. So, that moment before such an experience is hope-fully exhilarating. The imbecile and the guru both become servants of the inexplicable. The complexity of music teases all of our senses. If you aren’t fully consumed by it then your soul cannot be freed to sing. As we stand on the music precipice of melody that moment before the dive is quietly wondrous and necessary. It whets the appetite…but the warm-up can be confusing. Instruments and notes alike bicker in a cacophony of fine tuning. Violins, then saxophones, the obo wants in on the action and won’t wait its turn…even the gentle triangle rings out of time…every part is being perfected to play its role in this great symphony but what a battering it does to the ears. The audience knows, however, that the tune will change…Oh, they’ve read the program and even in their rudimentary understanding music they know that this is not the song…not yet. Just…wait for it. In fact this modge-podge of senseless reverberation is a part of the entire experience because the coming together is nothing short of a miracle. Shhhhh….here he comes…the conductor. When he steps to the platform we fear not for he will tame this noise and bring….harmony yes…sweet harmony. Before it sounds you know it’s there in the fullness of the wait. Can you see it? Look close. Harmony appears at the tip of the baton and demands attention…ahhhh yes, there you are. “Tap, tap tap” That valiant stick is raised in the face of wayward echoes and when it comes down the concord flies. You didn’t get dressed up abandoning the comforts of home for no reason. This occasion is worthy of your time. The confusion, the noise…that’s not the headline for this concert…we’re just warming up.

The Return

I was supposed to be blogging to journal and spread the love. Something happened to throw a wrench in those plans...life. But whatev. The great thing is no matter whatever beneficial thing you leave behind it is never to late to return to it. Here is a brain tickler of a story. I work at the Methodist home with some of the funniest, brightest, sweetest and hurting(est) teen age girls this city has seen. Frankly, some of their families just suck. I know we aren't supposed to cast blame because hurting people hurt people but these girls have become my "thing that i do" if that makes any sense. I am impassioned about them.

So here's the deal...I have never felt more like Jesus than before I started this job. Not the peaceful, non-discriminatory, WWJD Jesus but that Jesus that seeks out the company of the drunkard, the abuser, the murder, the liar, the sex addict and the demented and who loves on them until it hurts. 40 hours a week these girls are the source of many a days greatest thrill and debilitating exhaustion. Typical day...they come home school greeted by a smile on my face and tell me I am a crappy advocate (sarcasm, unwarranted or needed after a Ngan day nonetheless). They also grunt or make faces when I tell them I'm happy to see them...I get cussed out (F-bombs like WWII) throughout the evening and fear being shanked by some :-P We served them dinner once, made their plates and set the table, the whole 9. We explained how Christ served his disciples and we wanted to do the same...Reaction??? confusion and even frustration with our service. WHAAATTT?! EXCUSE?!!!! I am serving you...gratitude much? Sadness...some of them are not socialized to respond to acts of grace and mercy because they have never been offered to them...They don't say thank you because goodness has often come with a price, if at all.

Want my job? A surface analysis paints a thankless picture. When I work I have to make a minute by minute decision to ignore my instincts to shake them and verbally go "tet a tet" with them and love on these chicks until it hurts...and it does sometimes...most of the time. I turn my cheek until I stand dizzy. I also remember that I am no better. I serve a God who pours his heart on me even when I respond to Him through my hurt. No "thank you" or loving glances in his direction...yeah, I do that. It is love that changes. It is love that heals. It also clenches the jaw, gives without thanks and extinguishes the snap back. It takes time and determination and intention. I decide to love.

Molo Mr. Num Yummy!

Did I mention how well we ate in Cape Town? No barefoot missionaries here with hollow stomachs echoing hunger. A scant blog grants no honor to the indulgent nature of our daily repasts. Take a moment...imagine being serenaded by a choir of angels chanting heavenly arias as you behold the manna of South Africa...

The Spread

Stuffed Crust Pepperoni Pizza from Panorotti's in the mall...I CANNOT explain how gooood this was!

Appetizers from Moyo's

The best chips in the world! I forgot to buy the season salt they used...DANGIT!

Malva Pudding...give me a moment

Leg of Lamb from Poplars...I don't really like Lamb but it's still noteworthy

Hake...like the catfish of S.A. but much cleaner.

In addition with jet lag, spiritual lag and missing the people, the food ooooh the food was so hard to leave...nothing here tastes the same.

Sari I'm not NDN

I went shopping last weekend with my dear friend and partner in crime Angie. She's abandoning me for matrimonial bliss on July 25th and for some reason I thought it was next summer. I was trying to delay this for another year. When I realized that it was July 2009 I broke down in tears and Angie told me to stop because I embarassing her :-) Her fiance is simply a God-send. I can't begin to tell you what an answer to prayer he and his family is to her...Here's a tidbit...getting his PhD in Theology in December & graduating from medical school this summer. Yeah, the Lord did His thing big time! Here are our adventures in wedding shopping and fellowshipping. I love this girl!

We always have 2 take a myriad of these poses because I am horrible at centering.

At church the NDN's call me "black woman" in malayam but they don't know que yo comprende.

This so much more interesting than buying a boring white wedding dress.

How beautiful! Sari for Aunty!



Yeah so I've pretty much decided a wedding sari is the way to go. I hope my family doesn't mind.

Holy Foot Fetish

I'm not particulary fond of feet. I think God put them at the lowest point of our bodies for good reason. However, these feet are beautiful & noteworthy. These are the feet of the men and women that I served with in CapeTown and I adore these feet for they tirelessly carried the gospel of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

I traversed the Book of Kings chapter 19 and sat with the prophet Elijah as he told me his story. There were several things that came to light in my study that I hadn't noticed before. One was when he was running from Jezebel for his life he ran from Mt. Carmel to Mt. Sinai wanting to just die. He was emotionally and spiritually spent. This wasn't a lap around the neighborhood folks. We're talking over 300 miles. He meet the Lord on the same Mt. Sinai that his ancestor Moses did and the Lord comforted and reassured him. Then the Lord said go back the way you came...(I don't know whether to insert a tehee or a tear here). Elijah went though. This was a serious walk in the wilderness...not a darn thing figurative about it. Carrying the Gospel boldly is not always supported with pomp and circumstance. It can be long, lonely and upsetting. But oh how beautiful are those feet that not only carry the gospel but carry us to meet with the Lord.

mOLwEnI

It's been a minute since my last entry...sounds like I've been institutionalized or out at sea or in prison...Anyways, my mental state has been a bit static (in the fuzzy t.v. screen kind of way) so blogging was more of a burden that a cathartic release (just one more thing to do) but...I'm back

Moloweni S.A.
Oh my goodness I am not over South Africa yet. Not that I intended to "get over it" but I was hoping that I would not miss it as much as I do DAiLY! I truly feel like I miss home. Here are mas fotos from the Orphanges that we served at. One was in GuGuLetu and the other at the Rainbow House. I think about these kids all the time. Here's the thing some of them are HIV positive and there are so many of them & no help that they can't all be played with. They go some days without loving, playful touches. I tried to tickle one and he looked completed starlted as if I punched him. He was almost 2. Then he stuck his belly out so I would do it again. He couldn't tell what this sensation was or if he like it. It made me chuckle and made me so sad at the same time. Trying to post video soon. Pictures just don't do the experience justice. We all deeply love and miss them.

At Barcelona (I'll show Rainbow House pics later) the Pastor founded this church under serious duress. His first services were held outside in the dark in front of his car lights under the open threat of murder by the men of Gugulethu...And we have the nerve to complain we God "interupts us with His will. Lord forgive us.

Mama counting with her angel.

"Normal" is not universal

This angel was not used to being held. She was found in her "home" eating off of the floor (i think next to her dead mother). When they would feed her at the orphanage she would dump the food on the floor and then eat it.

So cute...all the girls carried there babydolls like this. Gotta love culture differences, no strollers

Mama & Aunty preparing lunch in the kitchen

Outside of Barcelona orphange, playground area

My God...that face!

Doing laundry...she didn't want me to help...I probably would have slowed her down :-P

Barcelona family!

So Hard to say goodbye.

Mike (in the car) held this little one the entire time we were there...quite a while. When we left he just stood at the car and looked at Mike like..."you are coming back right?" I can't articulate what that departure felt like. We were so nervous about going and broken before we left.

There's more to the story but I'll blog about it later.

Sweeping Crux: after all the planning and theorizing here's the deal. Christ is love and we are to love. You don't have to be a seminary trained theologian to love. I witnessed the stream of love cross between cultures through touch, talk and time. Touch someone, talk to them and invest your time. I promise they will meet Christ.

My Cup

There is this great statue on my campus in front of Truett that pretty much sums up my conversations with God these days. It is Jesus in what I presume to be the Garden of Gethsemane. In the Bible Jesus goes here to pray before his capture and crucifixion and He has this amazingly honest and humanly relatable convo with God the Father. "Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, 'My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.'" (Matthew 26:39) See, Jesus isn't just saying this in passing or as a sideline thought. He is agonizing over ALL that is about to happen to him...Nevertheless He chooses God's will. Crucifixion is certainly not my cup, thank God that's been taken care of already...but this is definitely a season of seriously having to trust the Lord in a very real way...so here is the statue

I love the way His hands are just laid at His side and the priceless look on His face. It's like He's saying "Soooo, this is my cup dad? (sigh) well, okay, I trust you"

I soooo feel this! Awesome thing is His eyes are fixed on His Father

"Faith is the gaze of the soul on a saving God."~A.W. Tozer