blogging break

In the midst of my busyness, I'm heading to Cape Town for a few days to attend a women's retreat for American missionaries in Africa. Although in some ways the timing feels bad (too much to do!), I know the timing is actually just perfect. God's always thinking ahead like that...

It's not often that I get to just attend events like this. We are constantly planning, organizing, and running ministry events. It's a blessing to be able to enjoy one as a participant and not as a host! I'm really looking forward to the time of refreshing...

the dweeb

"The Dweeb." That's how my Dad affectionately refers to Judging Amy, a TV show that my mom and I have come to really enjoy. They're running re-runs on TNT between 12:00 and 2:00 each afternoon. When I was home for a few months, part of my and my mom's routine was to break for lunch just in time to watch an episode (or sometimes two...) while we ate. Then I left to come back to South Africa...

Thankfully, I came home with the entire show on DVD!

Last night I popped a disc in, and ended up watching 7 episodes! It's not quite the same without my mom. Although, I must admit, it was much more enjoyable without all my dad's rude remarks about how stupid the show is. "The Dweeb?! You're watching the Dweeb?!" I can hear him now...

Granted, it actually would've been nice to hear his comments...

kitchen therapy

This past week has slipped through my fingers. I could almost tangibly feel it seeping out, as though I were trying to hold a fistful of sand. My time, which I already considered precious, and my schedule, which I already considered overcrowded, both just got hijacked. There were times this past week it felt as though I were drowning. So deep, I couldn't even see the surface of the water.

The director of our internship program abruptly quit last Sunday. Turned in her resignation on Sunday evening; Wednesday morning was her last time in the office.

We have 11 interns this year; almost 4 times more than we've ever had at one time before. Because I've been in the States for 7 out of the last 8 months, I haven't been very involved in the actual running of the program. (It's been "redesigned" from past years.) As Niel and I have now stepped back in as the internship directors, I've had to try to piece together the little bit I know and fill in the blanks with all the many things I don't know so that we can keep the interns' year and program running smoothly.

The interns and the rest of our staff team have been wonderfully supportive, helpful, and flexible, stepping up to the plate and offering assistance however they can help. Niel left with the interns for their mission trip to Botswana yesterday morning. They will be gone for 12 days, which gives me some "bonus time" to get everything ready for the start of the new term, which begins right after Easter weekend.

After a very full and overwhelming week, I spent the weekend in my kitchen. I cooked new recipes. I made extra meals to put in the freezer. I baked cookies and made extra dough to save for later. I cleaned and reorganized my cabinets. I hung pictures and plaques on the walls.

It was like "kitchen therapy". After spending long days and nights in the office this past week to try to get on top of everything, I needed time away from my computer and the stacks of things I need to do. I chose, instead, to spend hours doing things completely unrelated to my urgent lists.

This break, I can tell on this Monday morning, was just what I needed.

we're not the only ones

Some of you have heard me use the expression "T.I.A" before. I've written it in blogs. I say it. My husband and a small group of our friends say it. T.I.A. -- This is Africa. It's our way of shrugging off the myriad of things that seem to happen here in Africa and almost nowhere else in the world!

Last week Niel and I had the chance to see a movie in Johannesburg. We watched Blood Diamond, which, although quite intense, was an excellent movie. Based in Africa, the movie was full of African expressions: Lekker. Eish. Ag! Howzit, China? We smiled as we heard these, knowing that the majority of the audience watching this film around the world won't understand or appreciate them.

But when we heard, "T.I.A. -- This is Africa!", Niel and I both looked at each other with a funny expression on our face: "We say that!!"

Apparently, we're not the only ones...

superbowl monday

This week was our annual Superbowl Monday Party. With the time difference, the Superbowl starts at 1:00 AM here, so we tape it and watch it the next night. The main problem with this is that it is nearly impossible to avoid finding out the scores before we watch the game. Simply signing into instant messenger, reading a news email, or opening a web browser can ruin the surprise...

I had the job of transferring the taped game to a DVD, which required that I see the end of the game. I didn't mind too much since every year I've come to know the outcome prior to seeing it anyway. Finding out that early in the day relieved the pressure of trying to avoid discovering it some other way.

This year we had the largest Superbowl Monday Party we've ever had. With over 20 Americans joining for the big event, it was time to move the party out of our home and up to the conference room. We projected the game onto the big screen and there was plenty of room for all.

A wonderful benefit of our growing staff is having great cooks around. The spread of food this year was way better than anything we've had in the past, which is great for me since the food is my favorite part of the whole party!

Of course, it wouldn't be an African Superbowl if the power didn't go out at least once. Midway through the game we lost power for about 10 minutes. Thankfully it came back on and we were able to finish off the evening as planned.

It was a great night -- good game, good food, and good fun! I quite enjoy our Superbowl Monday tradition.

a peculiar people

I guess I've been here so long, doing what I do for so long, that I don't pick up on things that our newer staff notice. Recently, several have pointed out the uniqueness of our situation. Where else do you have a group of people who, in essence, are forced to do everything together? Work. Live. Socialize. Share homes.

Niel thought of a few: Army. Commune. Submarine. But those examples seem only to add to the case of our situation's rarity.

It's true. The dynamics of our ministry (or of life on the mission field) are unique. But it's uniqueness is also it's appeal. Where else can you live, work, and fellowship in a foreign (and beautiful) country and culture, surrounded by a community of like-minded, equally-devoted Believers?

I find it interesting that until this was brought up to us, we hadn't ever thought of it like this. That's why I chalk it up to the result of this being our life for so long. What else would life look like? I can't even imagine... It's interesting that what is normal to one is seen as different (and even frustrating) to others.

I wouldn't trade my life for anything in the world.

perfect timing

Last week, on a day when I was feeling absolutely horrible, Niel's mom came by with a mail delivery. Amidst the stack of bank statements and junk mail, I saw a card envelope. I just knew it was a card from my mom. I grabbed for it, and saw her very-familiar, feel-like-home handwriting on the envelope. I opened it to read:

"Few things are worse than being in a hug position with no one to hug. Miss you!!!"

Although I burst into tears, I was so glad. So glad to have a mom who loves me and misses me. So glad I have a God who navigated the mail system to get the card to me right when I needed it!

Thanks, Mom! Thanks, God!

eating again

This afternoon we had a "working lunch" at one of our fine eating establishments. When I placed my order for a sandwich with a side of thick-cut potatoes, the waitress made a face and shook her head.

Me: "What?!"

Waitress: "Unfortunately, we ran out of potatoes."

Me: "Already? It's only 12:30!"

Waitress: "Oh no, we ran out last week."

So, no side of potatoes. But it was an enjoyable lunch. And my second "real" meal in a week!

just a spoonful of sugar

Saturday began as any ordinary day. Well, any ordinary day when we are out with a team on safari. Following the morning game drive, we take them shopping at the market. Eat lunch. Drop them off at the airport. Drive home.

Saturday ended, however, quite differently than usual. I started to get a fever. And ended up getting sick, and making frequent visits to my bathroom, all night long.

Sadly, this has continued through today. While some of my symptoms have stopped, others haven't. My fever decided to return today as well. It's been a rough week to say the least.

I can't remember the last time I was this sick. Or that I was sick for so long. Or that I actually stopped working due to sickness. Yeah. This week has been a doozie.

I'd appreciate your prayers. Thanks, friends!

a quiet evening at home

For the first time in over six months, Niel and I curled up together on our couch to watch a movie. With all our ministry travels and busy schedule, this has been something we've really missed, and we were so grateful to have an uninterrupted night at home. About three-quarters of the way through the movie, the sound of an approaching war zone shook through the house. Niel thought it was in the movie until we paused it, and the sound actually got louder.

Huge gusts of wind were attacking our house. Niel went out to the porch to take down the hammocks, which were swinging wildly all over the place. After he took down the first one, he heard the wind coming through the trees. It sounded so strong and severe that Niel dropped the hammock and ran back into the house. Just as he did, a small tornado funnel peeled off a section of our roof!

We could see starlight from our living room while piles of dust, dirt, and debris flooded through the ceiling and covered everything in the room. God is good, and no one was hurt; although our house is a little worse for wear...

So much for quiet evening at home...

what it means to be a woman

Although I'm fairly goal-oriented, I've never been one to set New Year's Resolutions. However, something I recently read on a friend's blog struck me as something worth aspiring for. As I desire to be all that the Lord wants me to be -- as a wife, as a friend, as a minister -- this list of attributes seems to be a great target worth aiming for.

I strive to be a woman who:

...has an easy laugh and an easier smile; is a good listener; is always ready with a hug, an encouraging word, or a well-timed joke; follows hard after her passions and dreams; is not easily discouraged; is bold and unafraid; is humble, humble, humble; shares her feelings openly; shares her thoughts and opinions when the timing is right; works hard; takes care of herself, and also her family; is comfortable in her own skin; shows respect to her husband as she does all humans; does not gossip; is not a doormat; knows how to be flexible; is not pushy; makes a great team-player; is a nonconformist; has fine-tuned intuition in regards to communication and friendships; is confidant and capable, and capable of asking for help; is wise and witty; will eat with her fingers from time to time; isn't overly concerned with what others think of her; is not a respecter of persons; can socialize comfortably with middle class, the social elite, or the homeless; tackles challenges head on; is not easily offended; can relax, unwind, and even have fun when the house isn't clean; will clear her schedule at the drop of a hat to be with a friend who needs her; is forgiving and slow to speak; is always looking to grow; helps those less fortunate; is at home at the ballet or a basketball game; has an adventurous spirit; cherishes family times and makes them a priority; is calm under stress; is optimistic and grateful, not a complainer; is genuine; but most of all, humble.

Thank you, Amy, for putting words to my heart. My one addition would be:

...whose life is marked by her passionate love for the Lord and for people.

May 2007 bring me closer to being this woman...

of shoes and men

One of my joys of coming home was seeing Joyce again. (Joyce is our "house help" and a dear friend.) Yesterday, we had an amusing conversation. Joyce was looking at a pair of shoes I got when I was in the States...

Joyce: "These shoes are so nice."

Me: "Thanks. I like them, too. Niel doesn't really like them, though. He says they look like old lady shoes."

Joyce: "What do men know about shoes anyway?!"

home again, home again, jiggity jig

After being in the States for almost 5 months, we returned home last night. The night before we left New York, my mom and I pulled an all-nighter, watching back-to-back episodes of one of our favorite shows. We didn't think we'd actually make it all night, but suddenly it was 6:45 AM! We dozed for about an hour before getting up to finish my packing and leave for the airport.

I was exhausted, but this turned out to be just what I needed to be able to sleep through almost our entire 17-hour flight. My concerns that I then wouldn't sleep last night, once I was finally back in my own bed, were unnecessary. One Melatonin later, I was sound asleep again. Although I'm pretty tired right now, my body seems to have gotten right onto SA time.

Coming home is bittersweet. There's much I was missing and am so grateful to be back for. Our own house. Our couch. Our bird. Our friends. Our staff. Our ministry.

But there's much I also miss about my American home. My family. Stores open past 5. Starbucks. Variety and convenience. TiVo. :-)

I'm learning to be content wherever I am.

Since I'll be back in the USA in about six weeks (a rare treat), the transition is a bit easier. I'm looking forward to returning, but I'm also really glad to be home!

Our Home

'tis better

I truly love to give. My greatest anticipation leading up to Christmas is to see others' eyes shine and faces light up when they open their gifts. I love when I find just the "perfect thing" for someone. The wait -- knowing that the recipient is going to love it -- just mounts anticipation and excitement.

This Christmas Eve, my gift-giving eagerness has me pondering. I can't help but think that God, the ultimate gift-giver Himself, felt the same way on the first Christmas Eve. Since giving is as innate in Him as love is, I can imagine God trembling with the anticipation of giving His best gift. Although He knew His gift would not initially be received with joy, He still knew that it was the perfect thing. Just what we needed.

Thank you, Father, for giving us Your best.

'Tis truly better to give than to receive...

merrry christmas!

We discovered today that a ministry project we just went to print on, bears a typo. I wrote the copy and did the editing, so, alas, it is my own fault. When I realized that our Christmas cards (which will soon return from the printers and be mailed to over 200 people) say "Merrry Christmas", I gasped. (For those who didn't notice what's wrong --- as I didn't all the dozens of times I looked it over --- it has one "r" too many!)

My head started to spin. How can this be?! I looked it over umpteen times. How could I have missed it?! I immediately told Niel that we need to scratch this whole shipment and reorder it all. When he reminded me of how much it cost, I knew that wasn't an option...

Niel bounced right back from this earth-shattering discovery. He said that people will just think we're being emphatic. He started proclaiming, "Merrrrrrrrry Christmas!" (Think Tony the Tiger...) He said it over and over: "Merrrrrrrrry Christmas!" Well, that got me laughing and took my mind off my mistake...for the moment.

Later, when it was just us, I told Niel that I was really upset over this. My perfectionistic tendencies couldn't bear the overwhelming weight of defeat. I was feeling upset not just for myself, but for how this misrepresents the ministry.

Me: "I feel like a failure."

Niel: "Well, this just shows that you're a human being who makes mistakes like the rest of us."

Me: Sigh...

Niel: "Now maybe you won't be so hard on me next time I make a mistake. Cause then I'll just say 'Merrrrrrry Christmas!'"

disease of utility

I tend to need a reason to do things. Re-reading that statement, that sounds completely logical to me. Maybe it doesn't for everybody; I don't know.

On the one hand, it is a positive characteristic. I am purposeful. Intentional. Strategic. I aim for efficiency and efficacy. I multi-task. I put my hand to the plow, and I don't look back. I do all that I do with all that I am.

On the other hand, it is a negative characteristic. I find it challenging to relax. To rest. To do nothing. I find it difficult to even do just one thing at a time, because I am so accustomed to trying to maximize every moment by doing as much as possible.

A book I recently read gave me a word to describe this trait: utilitarian.

Utilitarian: Believing value lies in usefulness; exhibiting or stressing utility over other values; practical

Utility: Serving primarily for practical use rather than beauty

Everything I do, I seek to justify on the grounds of its usefulness.

When I found myself flushing the toilet (which demands that I hold the handle for 5 seconds rather than the typical 1) while opening the bathroom door (which is quite a reach from the toilet handle) and trying to shut off the light at the same time, I figured it was worth a closer look...

It's like there's a strong desire/need to not miss a single thing. Even if nothing significant is happening, a wasted moment is a wasted moment. I run everywhere (even when I can take my time and use the entire day for errands; even when the commercial break is long enough to not require a sprint to the kitchen).

It's like my brain thinks I'm not productive (and therefore not successful?) if I'm not cramming as much as possible into my waking hours.

Disease. The disease of utility.

Has the disease spread from my brain to my heart? Do I see myself as a person whose value is determined solely on the basis of my usefulness? Do I envision God creating me "primarily for practical use rather than beauty"? Not really... Intrinsically, I know the truth. I have value simply because I am. Not because I do. I just need to remind myself of that. Often.

I'm learning to take a deep breath. To slow down. To not feel guilty for taking a two-hour lunch break. (GASP!)

To discover, again, that I was created to be, not to do.

two homes and one good cup of tea

"Home" is sort of a funny thing for me. When I am in South Africa, I refer to America as home; when I am in America, I refer to South Africa as home. I don't think that's a bad thing. While I have definitely settled in South Africa, and that nation has truly become home to me, I am still American and America will always feel like home as well. You know what they say -- "Home is where your heart is." Well, my heart is in both countries at the same time.

I've heard some missionaries say that after living so long in their new country, their home country just seems so foreign to them. Some have said that it's hard to go back for visits because their own country/culture disgusts them now. That just amazes me. I don't feel that way at all. Yes, there are aspects of American life and culture that I disagree with -- but I would disagree with them even if I lived here full-time. I cherish every opportunity I have to be back in America and to connect with my family and friends across the country.

That said, while I am in America, there are things I really miss about South Africa. I miss my friends and our TV line-up nights; I miss my African grey parrot, Starbucks; and I miss my own house (or, as Niel would put it, our couch!). I also miss my tea.

South Africa has made me a tea drinker. Before I moved there, I had been working a job that demanded long hours and a lot of energy; I, therefore, drank a lot of coffee. Then I moved to South Africa, where most people drink and serve instant coffee. I struggled through it a few times until I decided it wasn't worth the effort. I quickly switched to tea.

We now have a "regular" coffee pot in our home, and I'll occasionally indulge in a cup o' joe, but really, I have to admit, I am now a tea drinker. My South African hot drink of choice is Five Roses Lemon tea. I drink at least one cup of this a day at home in South Africa. In the winter, I probably drink 3-4 cups a day, easily. As we traveled around America over the past 2+ months, I was really missing my lemon tea...

Now that I'm back in New York, I've been raiding my mom's old stash of lemon tea that I had sent her in a care package. I love being able to enjoy a cup of my favorite tea while answering emails, reading a book, or watching TV.

Hurry home, Niel! My stash is running low!

alone at the pump

I pumped gas for the first time today. This was pretty shocking to my friend Natalie, as it may be for others. Let me explain... I grew up in New York, where gas stations were always full-serve until about 7 or so years ago. Even now, gas stations typically offer both full-serve and self-service. I was already living in Africa when New York starting shifting to self-serve. On our USA trips, Niel and I have always done the bulk of our driving together. So when a fill-up was necessary, my knight in shining armor would handle the task of pumping gas (and usually in bitterly cold winter conditions...Shame!).

In South Africa, it is illegal to pump your own gas. So even there, all I've ever experienced is full-serve. And to clarify, "full-serve" in South Africa is largely different than "full-serve" in New York. In South Africa, your full service gas-pumping includes a windshield wash (and, at times, even a good cleaning of all the windows and side mirrors, too!), a tire check (and pump, if needed) upon request, and an offer to check your oil and water. In New York, "full-serve" is a non-English-speaking, non-smiling man pumping your gas. No chance of getting the other amenities. You're lucky if you get a, "Hi, how are ya?"

I have been in the Atlanta area since Tuesday, having some ministry meetings and attending Catalyst (which has been a powerful leadership extravaganza that I've learned so much from). I'm here with my mom (fun times yet again) and Natalie. I am the designated driver of our rental car. Our almost-empty tank necessitated a stop at a gas station, which, of course, was only self-serve.

I didn't let on that I was a bit nervous because I didn't really have a clue what to do. I simply read--and followed--the instructions on the pump. I filled up without a hitch, pumping my own gas for the very first time in my entire life. Note-worthy occasion.

As a side note, because I live an ocean away from many friends, my friendships have lacked the typical daily interaction that most are built upon. I am blessed to have some solid friendships despite that missing component, but it is still interesting to me that after a decade-long friendship, I've had these types of dialogues with friends:

• So, when is your birthday?
• What's your favorite restaurant?
• Which kind of candy do you like best?

Getting to spend some good, quality time with Natalie on this trip has deepened our friendship to Grand Canyon proportions. And now I know that she's partial to York Peppermint Patties and Reese's Pieces...

my sunday

6:30 - Alarm rings
7:50 - Picked up from host home
8:00 - First Starbucks run
8:15 - Arrive at church, set up display, get miked up, pray with pastor
9:00 - First service
10:30 - Talk with people by our display in lobby
11:00 - Second service
12:30 - Talk with people by our display in lobby
1:00 - Party with the mission team that came this year
3:30 - Second Starbucks run
4:00 - Meet with church leadership team
5:30 - Get miked up, pray with pastor
6:00 - Third service
8:30 - Arrive back at host home
9:00 - Collapse!

fire in the hole

Our fireplace caught fire. Isn't that what it's supposed to do? you ask. Well, in some respects, yes. Not in the manner in which it did the other night. As we do pretty much every night during the winter, we had a fire in the fireplace. After it had been burning for several hours, we noticed the room getting smoky. The odd thing was that there was no smoke blowing out of the fireplace. After a while we realized that smoke was coming up from the wooden base that the fireplace sits on.

We ended up breaking apart the entire base of the fireplace--and discovered that the wood underneath was, indeed, on fire. I've never used a fire extinguisher before, and I still haven't, but I watched as Niel used it to douse the fire. I don't know what I was expecting, but certainly not the nasty-smelling, all-encompassing fine white powder that seemed to explode out of the extinguisher and completely cover everything in the room. Two hours after this whole thing began, the fire was totally out. And our living room was a complete disaster!

This all happened the night before our staff retreat. We left the next morning for Ballito (and warmer weather!), leaving behind our war-torn house. When we returned, I was starkly reminded of what happened as I opened the front door and walked in -- it still reeks of smoke and the living room is in utter disarray. (sigh.) We have to keep the "evidence" until the insurance company sends an assessor to finalize our claim. No fun with us leaving the country in a handful of days (literally).

In the meantime, before we leave, we are resigned to freezing in our house (as we did last night) since we don't have a fireplace to make a fire in. American summer never looked so good!