soapbox

South Africa's colorful history is laced with atrocities. Apartheid. Segregation. Racial prejudice. Since democratic elections in 1994, the world has turned its attention elsewhere. Apartheid has ended! All is well in South Africa!

Yet right now, in so many ways, we are still experiencing the same atrocities. But the pendulum has swung to the other extreme. We are basically living with reverse apartheid.

And no one seems to notice, never mind care.

Yesterday I saw a commercial on TV for a South Africa cellphone service provider. They are selling shares in their company for 20% discount...but only to black people.

How is that any different than posting a sign that says "Whites Only"?

to save my marriage

"I did it to save my marriage." That's what she said right after she told me she'd slept with someone other than her husband.

Through tears and trembling, she recounted her shame over what she had done. She had not been able to get pregnant, and her husband wanted a child so badly. It was becoming a source of tension in the marriage, and a source of personal embarrassment for her husband. (In African culture, the number of children in a family is a reflection of the virility of the man.) So she went to her mom for advice. "Do whatever it takes to give your husband a child," mom said. "Even if you have to go somewhere else..."

So on the advice of her own mother, she decided to look elsewhere in order to give her husband a child. "I did it to save my marriage." She got pregnant, had a son, and ended the extra relationship. Over a year later, she came to me, in such brokenness, because she needed to tell someone. She carried the guilt and weight of her actions until she reached her breaking point. "How could my mother have told me to do such a thing?!" I am wondering the exact same thing...

Several months later, she told me that she finally told her husband. And by the grace of God, he chose to forgive her. And he continues to treat their son as his own. She has seen God's hand at work, and she is glad the truth finally came to light. She still carries the personal and emotional consequences of her choice, as well as the fear that her husband will hold it against her or choose to leave. But mostly she feels as though the truth set her free.

How do we get to a point where we believe that something like adultery is our only choice? What makes us feel so helpless and hand-tied that we do the things we actually despise? Why do we allow ourselves to get that far down the road before we turn to someone for help?

Truth will always set me free. Where do I need to allow God to shine His truth in my life, in my heart, in my mind? And will I let Him?

trailing behind

I live in Africa. That means I'm typically at least six months behind on just about everything. Movies, TV shows, music, books, styles... It also means that I never have any clue what's going on in any of those scenes. We rarely see movie previews; most of the latest shows never make it here; no radio stations to speak of; I tend to stick with authors I know because I don't have a Borders to spend hours in; and, well, even if I lived in America I'd probably never be up on the latest styles...

Unless someone recommends a band, or a movie, or a book, or a whatever, I have no idea what's good out there. It's always humorous when I think I've discovered this great new thing...only to find out that it's been around forever and I'm about the last person to figure that out.

What's new on your radar these days?

if these walls could speak

if these walls could speak, what would they say?
would they shout?
would they sing?
would they whisper?

if these walls could speak, what would i hear?
a love song?
a tirade?
a sigh?

if these walls could speak, how would i feel?
surprised?
intrigued?
ashamed?

if these walls could speak, what would they say?
would they drench me in love and peace?
wrap me in warm reassurances?
bubble forth with contagious joy?

if these walls could speak, what would i hear?
unstoppable laughter?
a barrage of questions, demanding answers?
nothing but a quiet calm?

if these walls could speak, how would i feel?
would i like what i heard?
would i wish they'd stayed silent?
would it change my life?

ko-ko

Joyce has been out sick the past two days. (And it's painfully obvious when you look around my house...) But more than missing the constant attention she provides to my home, I've missed her laughter. Joyce is full of joy and brightens my days with her jokes and smiles. She fills my home with her hearty laughter. It's been empty around here...

I figured I'd stop in at her house in Intabazwe this afternoon. I hadn't been there in a long time, and without street names (and with rows and rows of identical-looking matchbook-type homes) it took me a while to find her house.

I went around to her back door (the Basotho rarely use their front doors), and shouted "Ko-ko" (African version of "knock, knock"). It warmed my heart to hear Joyce's joyful expression of surprise and delight when she discovered it was me.

We had a great visit, and I got a good dose of Joyce's laughter. I'm looking forward to having her back tomorrow...

care instructions

A friend pointed out that my new Bible has care instructions printed in it.

CARE
We suggest loosening the binding of your new Bible by gently pressing on a small section of pages at a time from the center. To ensure against breakage of the spine, it is best not to bend the cover backward around the spine or to carry study notes, church bulletins, pens, etc., inside the cover. Because a felt-tipped marker will "bleed" through the pages, we recommend use of a ball-point pen or pencil to underline favorite passages. Your Bible should not be exposed to excessive heat, cold, or humidity.

In addition to making me smile, reading that also makes me wonder... What other things in my life have I allowed to be damaged by not noticing or heeding the care instructions? My marriage? Relationships? My walk with God? Myself?

I need to look closer to discover the proper way to care for that which is valuable to me... and then make sure I follow the instructions!

if, then

I want to...

• lead and be led
• hear and be heard
• speak and be spoken to
• give and be given to
• pour out and be poured into
• love and be loved
• hug and be hugged
• hold and be held
• laugh and hear laughter
• rejoice and be rejoiced with
• carry and be carried
• smile and be smiled upon
• see and be seen
• know and be known
• understand and be understood
• comfort and be comforted
• forgive and be forgiven
• trust and be trusted
• believe and be believed in

I cannot have the latters without first doing the formers...

around the bend

We took the interns on safari a few days ago. The first one this year (so they were pretty excited!). We had a great time just getting to connect with them outside of their usual ministry schedule... We saw some amazing animals (rhino, giraffe, and hippo being some of them), but everyone really wanted to see elephants.

We spent two-and-a-half hours looking for them, to no avail. It was early in the morning, and it was frigid (even moreso on the open truck, with the wind in our faces). We started off pretty confident that we'd see the elephants. We were excited. The cold didn't bother us. The early hour didn't stop us. We were gung-ho. Then the minutes started to pass. We drove and drove and drove and drove, and not only did we not see elephants, but we didn't see much of anything at all. We were stopping for poop. Sad when the closest you can get to the creatures is what they leave behind...

After two hours, I'd given up. I'd stopped looking around and simply did my darnedest to stay as warm as I possibly could (by using one of my jackets as a blanket and cuddling with the person next to me). I was just ready to get back to the main complex and have breakfast. Get off the truck and out of the cold wind. I was done.

And then we found them.

As we came around a bend in the road, our driver spotted an elephant off in the distance. We bundu-bashed our way through the brush and, next thing you know, we were surrounded by elephants. There were maybe a dozen of them. The three-month old baby was hiding behind her mommy just feet away from us and one of the large females thought it would be fun to break the side mirror off of the truck. They were that close.

And to think I'd given up!

It makes me think about my life, my dreams and hopes and desires. How many things have I given up on just moments too soon? Just moments before I'd have been surrounded by that which I was waiting for?

Hold on. Hang in there. What you're waiting for may be right around the next bend.

journal journey

I journaled today for the first time in four years.

I used to journal all the time. Almost every day, but sometimes not quite. And then it started to really dwindle. Until I was only writing every few months. And then just once or twice a year. Apparently, four years ago I stopped altogether. I hadn't even realized it had been that long.

I was hoping it would be like riding a bike -- that knowing what and how to write would all instantly come flooding back. It didn't. A blank page is intimidating and scary. But I filled it.

I'm not totally sure the reason I stopped, or the significance of what it all means (or may not mean). And I don't fully comprehend the significance of starting again. But someday maybe I will.

For now, I'll just try to continue putting pen to paper and see what comes...

never give up

I read this a few days ago, and it resonated with me...

It never ceases to amaze me that people never tire of hearing "never give up."

How about you? Is this all you need to hear today? The gifts and dreams God has given you are irrevocable, so Satan knows that he cannot remove those from you. So his tactic is much simpler. If he can just discourage you, then he has won the battle. When we are discouraged, we quit trying...we lose because we don't even attempt.

Never give up. What has God placed within you? God did not give you gifts and dreams to frustrate you. He gave you these gifts so you can use them as a gift back to Him. Don't be discouraged. Don't give up. The Kingdom of God needs you to come through. You have potential that gets wasted unless you overcome your discouragement and stay on track. Problems are part of the process (so are problem people) so never be surprised when you run into roadblocks. Don't let it get you down. Just keep going. Progress is still progress even if you are crawling! Never give up.

When I read it, it was what I needed to hear that day. Maybe it speaks to you, too...

just a thought

Who am I that You are mindful of me?

Who am I that I'm not mindful of You?

no frills

This morning, I sat down with Joyce and had a heart-to-heart.

Me: "I am so grateful for the gift you gave me. You said such beautiful things, and the gift is even more meaningful because of what you said."

Joyce: "Yes, Mama."

Me: "I love and appreciate you, Joyce. I value your friendship. You are like a sister to me."

Joyce: "Yes, we are sisters."

Me: "Joyce, as sisters, I want to share my heart with you. Is that ok?"

Joyce: "Yes. Sisters are honest with each other."

Me: "When I look at the gift, it means a lot to me because I know it came from your heart. It shows me that you care about me, and that is what makes it so special. But in my culture, this type of thing, with so much frills and lace, is not something we normally do. White men feel like it's 'too much' to have something so girly like this in their bathroom. So I know that Niel does not enjoy having it in here."

Joyce: "Ooohh... Basotho men, they do not mind. But I can see that white men will mind..."

Me: "Yes. So I'd like to ask you if this will fit in your bathroom. If it will, then I would like to give it to you for your house. I will feel good knowing that you are able to use it and enjoy it."

Joyce: "Yes, it fits in my bathroom. I will take it today, and I will let you know when I have it set up in my bathroom so you can come by to see it."

Me: "I would love to! Thank you so much, Joyce. I appreciate you very much!"

Joyce (with a laugh): "I know, Mama, I know. It's okay. It's okay..."

We ended with much hugging, and everything truly is okay! Joyce wasn't offended at all, and she joyfully took down the items and packed them up to bring to her house.

And my bathroom is much happier being back to normal... as are Niel and I!

In case you're wondering, I decided to handle it this way because I figured that honesty truly is the best policy. If it was "accidentally" torched, destroyed by children, or ravaged by my bird, Joyce would still not know that we didn't like it, and would most likely end up replacing it for Chrirstmas or my next birthday. I'd rather not relive this experience again if I can avoid it.

Indirect communication is key in Basotho culture. They don't directly express their own opinion or preference. I figured I'd go that route by blaming it on the fact that men in my culture don't like that sort of thing. Thanks, Hon, for taking one for the team...

I also told Joyce early in the day, giving me the rest of the day to make sure that she was really okay. She was completely fine, making her usual jokes and small talk with me and Niel. It feels so great to know that I didn't offend her or hurt her feelings in this whole thing...

Thanks everyone for weighing in and sharing your thoughts on this one! Many a laugh has been had, and I will be remembering this for a very long time...

catch-22

I need some cultural advice. Joyce (my Mosotho house helper) gave me a gift for my birthday. While it was the most meaningful gift I received, it's also the gift I like the least. Maybe that's putting it too mildly. I really dislike it. (I'm trying not to use the word "hate", but I think you get the idea.)

When Joyce gave me the gift, she also said that since she didn't get a chance to buy a card, she'd just tell me what she would have written. "You have always given me so much, and I could never repay you. I don't even have enough words to say how much you mean to me. You are my family, my only family."

Joyce shared that her daughter recently asked her, "Why do you say, 'Hello, Mama' when you talk to Mme Alece on the phone?" Joyce said her reply was, "Because she is like a mother to me. She is my mother."

It was so special. You can't put a price tag on that kind of a gift. Joyce spoke from her heart, and it meant the world to me. That is what makes her gift so meaningful.

What makes it something I strongly dislike is... well, it's what the gift itself actually is. I cringed (only on the inside) when Joyce unpacked it (opening the gift for me, in typical African style). "A toilet set!" she proclaimed excitedly.

"Wow, Joyce!"

"Here, let me show you..." and she immediately started putting each piece in its proper place in my bathroom. There's a toilet seat cover, a toilet tank cover, a toilet paper roll holder, and a curtain. And they were suddenly all on display. In all their frillyness, gaudiness, and tackiness. It was almost overwhelming.

"Wow, Joyce! It's so fancy!"

"No, it's not!" And I'm sure she's thinking that it's not fancy because practically every home in Intabazwe has a set like this. So in her mind, it's commonplace, not fancy.

"Joyce, it was so thoughtful of you. Thank you so much!"

After we hugged and talked a bit more, Joyce left and I stood in my bathroom a while. Contemplating. The question going around my head was: How do I get out of this? Joyce works in my home, so I can't simply just not use the gift... So how do I get out of this?

"Aww, come on!" you're thinking. It can't be that bad! Oh really?! This is what my bathroom looks like at the moment:

So, I need some advice. Remember that I'm feeling the tension between how strongly I dislike the state my bathroom is currently in and the fact that I love Joyce, value her friendship, and desire to be culturally sensitive.

What should I do?

**UPDATED** Make sure you read part two!

brutal honesty

There are some days -- some moments -- when I just hate being a missionary. Maybe it's not so much that I hate being a missionary, but that I hate the occupational hazards that come along with it. Like living so far from friends and family.

I heard from a dear friend today whom I hadn't heard from in a while. And she's going through a rough time. I long to be able to have the types of friendships where I can respond to things like that in ways other than just sending an email or saying a prayer. I want to be able to do something. I am a do-er. It eats me up inside that my hands are tied because of an ocean between us.

So, my friend, even though I can't, please know that I wish I could see you. Hug you. Listen to you. Stay up all night talking. And hopefully end up cracking each other up.

Since I can't, my prayer is that someone else will be there for you in that way today...

mr. personality

Let me introduce you to Starbucks. He's my (roughly) 3-year old African Grey. I've grown up with birds as pets, and didn't realize that many people find this odd. I think the assumption is that a bird has no personality and doesn't really interact at all. While maybe this is true of some birds, Starbucks is certainly full of personality.

He says,"Morning!" when I uncover his cage each morning and, "Hello?!" when a phone rings. He shouts, "Come in!" when there's a knock on the door and, "Go back!" when he starts to walk down the leg of his own cage.

He laughs, coughs, and sneezes.

He mimics cell phone noises, can do the Good, Bad, and the Ugly whistle, and loves doing a Cat Call.

His vocabulary also includes:

• Hello
• Bu-bye
• OK
• Starbucks
• Kisses (followed by kiss noises)
• Hello Beautiful
• Hey Babes!
• Joyce (my wonderful friend and house-help)
• Scoop (when he wants me to rub under his beak)
• Come
• Wanna Come?
• Come on! (in a sassy, annoyed tone)
• Hey buddy!
• Snack
• That's a good boy!
• Poophead (I like teaching him to talk trash)

And my all-time favorite:

• Chalupa! (when he does his business!)

dance party r.s.a.

Limakatso is the handicapped children's center in Intabazwe which is run by Irene, one of our Basotho staff members. She planned a big celebration for all the children who have had birthdays between January and June, and I took the interns to help with the party. I hadn't been at the center in over a year, and I loved getting to see the children again. While there are many new faces, there are still many who have been with us since we started. They have grown and learned so much! I couldn't believe my ears when children who barely spoke, replied to me in perfect English!

We spent a lot of time outside playing with the kids. The "formal festivities" (in typical African style) included an official welcome, opening prayer, receiving of gifts, snacks, and a hot lunch. Oh yeah...and dance time. The kids spent almost an hour simply "getting down" to some crazy music. I wish you could've seen them dancing their hearts out with no inhibitions.

I also wish you could've seen our wacky attempts at dancing along!

birthday party fun

Yesterday was one of our staff members' birthdays. The girls organized an evening of togetherness, game-playing, and cookie-decorating (although all I participated in was cookie-eating). Some highlights of the evening:

• Playing Cranium Turbo with the staff gang
• Successfully spelling "Alabama" backwards, each team member taking a turn saying a letter
• Eating cookies shaped like hippos
• Dancing with Kelly to the timer music
• Not knowing who sang "Islands in the Stream"
• Discovered that "Volvo" is Latin for "I roll"
• Enjoying my only bit of alone time all day by crashing on the couch and watching the Tuesday Night Line-Up

thank you

With a small gesture, someone made my day today.

As I was dropping off some of the interns, one of them turned to me and signed "thank you". It caught me off guard and I didn't even know how to respond. For some reason, it resonated deep inside me. It seemed quite significant, and I kept thinking about it as I drove into town.

Maybe I'm reading too much into such a small gesture, but to me it spoke much more than just appreciation. It spoke of the genuine friendship that's formed between us. A friendship I'm grateful for.

Oh, and Becca...

staying strong

I've grown much better at recognizing what I need to stay strong. It's been a journey. One we know our staff need to be on, so we recently challenged them in this area. Since we aren't in this for a sprint, but for a marathon, we need to take responsibility over our lives to ensure that we stay in the game for the long haul. We, as the ministry leaders, are responsible to them, but not responsible for them. Each of us carries the personal responsibility to stay strong and not burn out.

For many people, though, the most difficult thing is the first step: identifying what they need to include -- and to avoid -- in their day, week, and month in order to stay strong. (And this is different for each one of us.) I think it's a challenge for some because it seems to go against our theology of putting others first. But we can't continue to put others first successfully if we don't make ourselves and our own personal emotional/physical health and strength more of a priority...

Anyway, I've become more aware of my own needs in this area. One specific thing is my need to "shut off" at the end of the day. I've realized that when I stay up late working, I have a very hard time falling to sleep. My mind stays in "high power" mode and I am literally unable to stop thinking, answering emails in my head, and going over what I need to do in the coming day(s). Insufficient sleep then makes me grumpy (ask Niel!), and unproductive and inefficient when I am supposed to be working.

In the past several months, I have gotten much better at leaving my work in my office when I finish at the end of the day. Sometimes my "quitting time" is still later than it should be, but now when I leave work, I literally leave work. I used to check email again before bed, but now I intentionally do not turn on my laptop. I know that it will start my brain wheels spinning and I won't be able to shut them down!

I find I'm sleeping much better than I ever have. It's amazing! And...it's Biblical: Overwork makes for restless sleep. Well, waddayaknow?!

What do you need to be more intentional about including -- or avoiding -- in your day/week/month to keep yourself strong?

personality disorder

I was recently challenged by a staff member (and friend) to be more personable in what I write for the ministry (newsletter, web content, brochures, etc.). He pointed out that I write completely differently in my blog than I do for ministry things. I know that I do, and I've felt it's been with good reason.

While my blog and personal emails simply reflect me and my personal thoughts and personality, my task of writing for the ministry is weightier. My aim is not to reflect my own personality, but the entire ministry. I need to portray a more professional, business-like side. When I explained all that to him, he relied, "Yeah, but it's as if you write with NO personality." Ouch.

It's given me pause to step back and re-look at things. I have a hard time finding the balance between being personable (without it being too much of just me) and professional (without it being cold and impersonal).

We are embarking on a big relaunch of our website soon (this same friend has been working hard on an amazing new design and format!). I will soon be starting the process of writing all the content for the new site. Which leads me to my question...

Any thoughts on how I can put more personality in my ministry writings?