My Thanksgiving Adventure

If you're considering being homeless in Glasgow, forget it. It's a terrible idea. One of the worst you've had, I must say.

How do I know this? This past Thanksgiving, I had the privilege of learning what it means to be truly thankful.

This Thanksgiving began like any other. Well, by which I mean, it was actually completely different from any other, because I woke up on a sailing ship, in Scotland, which has never really happened to me before on thanksgiving. But it did begin like a normal day off here on board the Next Wave, and I hadn't the least suspicion of the insane day I was about to have.

All us DTS students all assembled as directed at 9:00 and found two lists on the whiteboard approximately as follows:

Sleeping bag            Phones
Warm clothes           Money
Bible                        iPods/iPads
Journal                     Computers
Pen

There was a big red X through the list on the right.

'What does this look like?' One of our leaders asked.

'A packing list.' We said.

'Yes' said our leader. 'You can't bring any of these things.' She said, pointing to the list on the right.

'You have ten minutes. Go!'

About twenty minutes later, just us students were walking away from the ship, the only additions from the original packing list being one guitar, one camera, and an envelope for each of us with a day and a time to open it written on the outside.

We proceeded to open the envelopes as the times written on them came. The next seven hours included tasks and activities like: picking up rubbish in the park (gross), inviting people to climb trees with us (awkward/hilarious), walking to the city centre (tiring), worshiping in the city centre with hundreds of people around us (scary), prayer walking (great), talking to homeless people (sad/humbling).

We also prayed that God would provide us with something to eat, because so far, none of the envelopes had any money in them, and we were getting hungry. It was a sobering thing to do, being how I previously didn't know what it was like to wonder where my next meal was coming from. And I was becoming increasingly aware that for a lot of people, that was a reality they faced every single day.

What I didn't mention earlier is it's been raining on and off all day, it's just above freezing, and it's windy. By 5 pm, the sun has long since set, we're all wet, freezing, hungry, and trying to figure out why this is happening to us. For us Americans in the group it was hard, imagining our families back home, without us, stuffing themselves with Thanksgiving Dinner. It was definitely a... very unique experience, and one I would do well to remember. 

Shortly thereafter we opened the envelope with the money. It was crazy amazing to see how one afternoon had changed how we viewed money. Some of us opted for McDonald's, some went to the store and got loaves of bread and such, and we all ate together in the food court area of an arcade (that's what malls are called here).

One of the oddest, yet beautiful, simple Thanksgiving Dinners ever.

To be together with each other, actually, truly, thankful that we were inside, relatively warm, and there was something in our stomachs.

We even had leftover money so we bought meals for several homeless people. One man named John was sitting huddled under a street light, reading a book. He told us he had been a heroin addict for 26 years before he finally overcame it a couple years ago. He'd been living on the streets for 12 years, and had to make £25 a day begging because if he went to the cheap hostels or homeless shelters, he would become addicted to heroin again, since so many people there are addicts.

He also mentioned that he had a degree in sociology.

Was he telling the truth? From the impression I got talking to him, I would say yes, he was.

We bought him a big meal at KFC.

Some others in our group talked to a homeless lady named Denise. She told them her precious baby boy had died when he was only three weeks old. She had a nervous breakdown and ended up living on the streets as a result.

Just let that bounce around your noggin for a bit. Imagine being Denise for a day. Now, I'm not trying to get you depressed. I'm attempting to recreate for you (if only in part,) the shift that began in my thinking. I was disgusted at how quickly during the day I had given in to self pity and by how much of the past hours I had spent thinking only of myself and what I was going through.

I've decided that a little dose of gritty reality is good occasionally, especially since we get so addicted to our comfort and security, we begin to take so many things for granted. I'm not pointing fingers or trying to make you feel guilty either. I want to try and share with you the amazing, beautiful freedom of true gratitude, because that's what I got to experience when I was confronted with something so outside my bubble of comprehension, and it's better than a breath of fresh air.

After that, it was getting late, and we didn't know where we were going to sleep that night, yet another new feeling. (I tell you what, there's a lot to learn in the phrase, 'You don't know what you've got until it's gone.')

To make a long story not as long, I ended up falling asleep at 2 something under a tarp on the deck of the Next Wave since that was deemed safer than sleeping under a bridge. It rained all night and I woke up stiff and wet, but with the realization that many people wake up this way, day after day, sometimes year after year. We weren't allowed back on the ship for another while, so we went and did a Bible study and talked about the weekend. Eventually we opened an envelope with a card that said COME HOME! So with sore feet, we walked back to the ship again, where we put on dry clothes, took showers, and talked with our leaders about how it went and processed our thoughts and feelings. (That's something we do A LOT.) Then we officially celebrated Thanksgiving on the Next Wave that evening, and it was everything that Thanksgiving should be: tons of delicious food, sincere gratitude for our countless blessings, and quality time with family, albeit a different family than the one I'm usually with on Thanksgiving.

A strange 24 hours, to be sure. Definitely the weirdest thanksgiving I've ever had; I'm sure it'll stand out in my memory. Not just for the important lessons learned in gratitude, but also for the good times we had as a team. 

So on second thought, maybe I would recommend being homeless in Glasgow for a little while. I certainly learned a lot from it. 

Do yourself a favor and be truly THANKFUL for what you have today.

UPDATE!

Hey everyone! Here's my blog, back from the dead by the necessity of things happening to me that you might actually want to know about.  So here it is, the long-expected update that you've all been patiently waiting for! (Or not patiently, as the case may be.) I do apologize for my tardiness, but in my defense, a DTS is not called "intensive" for nothing. (You should see the stack of homework I should be doing right now instead of writing, but no matter!) 

Life is smashingly good. You know when something really excites you, but you forget about it and then suddenly remember? Well, a couple of times every day, I do this double take thing: "Wait, I actually *live* on a sailing ship! I'm actually in Europe! This is actual tea and crumpets I'm having!" (Sweet goodness, have you ever had an actual crumpet? If not, go put that on your bucket list right now.)

Ok, so a Discipleship Training School. Without exception, it's the most awesome thing that has ever happened to me. In one way, it's weird to think it's been over a month since I said good-bye to everything familiar, and yet, it's harder to believe that it's *only* been just over a month on this amazing ship; time is quite wibbly-wobbly here. What I do know is that it's been the most amazing month of my life. God has somehow managed to create an experience that seamlessly combines everything I love, which is really quite extraordinary, considering the bizarre variety of my loves and interests.   

One of the things I love is community. I could talk for hours about the benefits of community. That was one of the things that really excited me about the possibility of doing this DTS; the small, close-knit togetherness that happens automatically when you have more than twenty people living in a place where you can never be more than 30 metres away from anyone. (And that would only happen if everyone crowded together on one end of the ship and you were on the other, so that never happens.) I knew within 10 minutes of coming aboard that I was home. I had stepped out of one amazing family and into another, I felt so immediately welcome. Maybe it seems like I've been here for longer than I have because I've already reached a level of closeness to these people that usually takes many times longer. God knew what He was doing when He directed me here for sure. 

I'd love to keep going; I've haven't even scratched the surface of the incredible things that are happening to and inside of me. I could write pages about amazing and crazy experiences, and hopefully I will, but for now, if I actually want to post this, I'll have to stop. Expect many more updates, some short, some long, hopefully fairly often. Have a joy-filled day!

Breaking the Silence and New Loves

Hi All! Sorry for the deafening silence from my head support of the forest lately. I've had a crazy summer and blogging is one of those things that goes by the wayside when (1) I honestly don't have time, and (2) I just don't feel like it. The past months have been a combination of the two. But never mind.

Ah, life is good. I mean, smashingly really good.

I have some new loves. I know, I know: "Oh, there she goes again... that's all she needs; more hobbies!" Yeah, but these are SO cool. What are they this time?

Motor bikes and Accordions.

Not at the same time, mind you, unless someone else was driving. (Ooo, there's an interesting thought... can't you see me, sitting on the back of a motor bike, bringing to life a joyful tune that drifts to the ears of all those we pass... well, dunno 'bout you, but I can see me doing that.) But yes, another musical instrument. They're crack for me, and I have no intention of quitting. But, ah, accordions... there is something wonderfully old and romantic about them that just leaves my musical soul absolutely smitten. Besides the occasional brief tinkering in music stores, I had never gotten to play one, but all this has changed forever. I got to play not one, but two different accordions lately. Unfortunately, I don't own either of them, which is, indeed, very unfortunate, as I just pointed out. I don't know if this will be my next musical instrument, but I sure hope so!

(This is me someday: playing on a street... could be anywhere in the world. *happy sigh*)

Ok, so on to motor bikes: They rock. Meet my new boyfriend:

His name is Chuffy.

Unlike the unfortunate accordion situation, we own this beauty of a machine. Dad found him on ebay (weird place to find a boyfriend, I know) and got him for $600. "Chuffy" is the name of a character in some of P.G Wodehouse's amazing books. Also, interestingly enough (well, I think it's interesting), I found this entry in "Merriam-Webster's Top 10 Favorite British Words, Vol. 2"

   #3: Chuffed

         Definition: quite pleased; delighted
              Example: "I'm absolutely chuffed that we have a motor bike!" 

So, yeah. Life is really good, and I am really happy. It's random, (better get used to it) but here's some of the things that have contributed to my happiness of late:

• The weather
• Accordions
• The turning of Seasons
• Good friends who are awesome
• Nature in general
• Good poetry
• The realization that my family is really going to sell the house and move into a bus (!)
• Motor bikes
• Good food

Oh, on that note, I did something interesting a bit ago: I tried my hand at making Sushi. Well, fake sushi. California roll with no raw fish, just imitation crab. It worked out really well. Just look:  

That's all from me today. Now go outside and enjoy some of the lovely autumn weather.


[Ok, who understood what I meant by "head support of the forest"? Try to figure it out; it's just synonyms ... give up? Neck of the woods.]

I NEED AFRICA MORE THAN AFRICA NEEDS ME

Tomorrow I am leaving this place called Africa. Here is one last thought before I leave this glorious continent I have come to love. I did not write the following post, but I definitely identify with it:

When I think of Africa, the following images immediately come to mind: Starvation. AIDS. Child soldiers. Genocide. Sex slaves. Orphans. From there, my thoughts naturally turn to how I can help, how I can make a difference.  "I am needed there," I think.  "They have so little, and I have so much." It's true, there are great tragedies playing out in Africa every day. There is often a level of suffering here that is unimaginable until you have seen it, and then it is difficult to believe. But what is even harder is reconciling the challenges that many Africans face with the joy I see in those same people. It's a joy that comes from somewhere I cannot fathom, not within the framework that has been my life to this day.

The images spilling out of my television showed circumstances that could seemingly only equal misery, and I was fooled. I bought into the lie that circumstance defines happiness. The truth is, in Africa  I find hearts full of victory, indomitable spirits. In places where despair should thrive, instead I find adults dancing and singing, and children playing soccer with a ball crafted of tied up trash.  Instead of payback, I find grace.  Here, weekend getaways are not options to provide relief from the pains of daily life. Relationships and faith provide joy. Love is sovereign.

My new reality... I know now that my joy should have no regard for my circumstances. I'm ashamed by my lack of faith, but at the very same moment I am excited by my new pursuit.  I'm forced to redefine the meaning of having much or having little.  I'm uneasy with the prospect of change and of letting go, but just the thought of freedom is liberating. I want what I have learned to trickle down from my head into my heart -  I no longer want or need the "next thing" to have joy.

I'm not saying that Africa does not need our efforts. It absolutely does need our partnership.  But for me, I've come to understand that I NEED AFRICA MORE THAN AFRICA NEEDS ME.  Why? Because it is Africa that has taught me that possessions in my hands will never be as valuable as peace in my heart.  I've learned that I don't need what I have and that I have what I need.  These are just a few of this continent's many lessons.  I came here to serve and yet I've found that I have so much to learn, and Africa, with all its need, has much to teach me.

To God be the glory. Farewell, Africa, I'm gonna miss you. Peace out. 

 

Good-bye, Africa

It's almost over. I can hardly believe it's just a few more days and then it's farewell to Africa. It has been an amazing ride, and one I won't soon forget. We've actually already said good-bye to Dondo and all our friends there because we decided to make our way slowly to Johannesburg, South Africa where our flight leaves. Right now, we're at another Iris base in Zimpeto, a suburb of Maputo, the capitol. Saying good-bye is so bittersweet. I will miss Africa and the people in it horribly. I'll miss the culture. I'll miss the churches. I'll miss the yummy food you can buy on the street for just pennies. I'll miss watching the village people as they go about their daily activities. I'll miss shopping in the market and bartering with the shop owners in my broken Portuguese.  I'll definitely miss the soda. (Oh, my goodness, the soda. Did you know that for every soda you can buy in a normal store in America, you could find at least two weird ones in Africa you've never even heard of? AND they're all sweetened with real sugar! It's amazing!) I'll also miss the readily available and cheap fruit, a lot of which is unknown in America. But one of he things I will miss most about Mozambique is the hilarity that results when cultures collide. The western world has wormed it's way into bits of the culture here, while some parts remain mostly unchanged. It opens wide the door for for hilarious juxtapositions. The village people of Dondo just crack me up sometimes. They might not speak a word of English, they might live in stick and mud huts, but by golly, they all have cell phones with Justin Bieber music (which they blare through broken speakers at ALL hours of the day and night). That is one thing I will NOT miss! I distinctly remember this one time I was walking though the village, I rounded a corner and saw a group of 10 or so kids playing in the dirt. They all fell silent when they saw me and then, as if on cue, they all simultaneously broke forth into the beginning strains of "Baby baby". Some of those kids probably didn't even speak Portuguese, never mind English, knowing only the local tribal language of their parents. Clothes can also produce odd culture mixes. A lot of clothes get donated from the states through thrift stores and clothing companies that make misprints. I've seen little old grannies in the traditional African 'capulana' skirt with Spider Man or The Incredible Hulk t-shirts. I've seen people in church wearing snowflake pajama pants. I've seen little girls wearing t-shirts with American wrestling champions on them... the list goes on, but it's not just clothes. Once I met a guy who couldn't speak a word of English that had somehow procured an issue of the O magazine (in English, of course). He reverently flipped through the glossy pages, looking carefully at every makeup and perfume ad. It was all I could do to not burst out laughing, so I just smiled widely and asked via sign language if I could take his picture, which I did. (I would post it here, but unfortunately, I was unable to find it.  If it hasn't gotten permanently deleted, I will post it eventually.) 

So, I'm leaving all that funny craziness behind. *sniff sniff*. All of that said, I am so glad to be going home! I've missed my incredible family a TON. I've missed mom's amazing cooking. I've missed all my friends. I've missed all my instruments and impromptu music sessions at home. I've missed being in a country where I speak the language. I've missed my books. I've missed our woods and fields. Like I said; very bittersweet. I'm incredibly thankful for the opportunity I've had to come to Mozambique, and I'm very grateful to all the people that helped get me here; Africa has changed my life. How exactly, I can't rightly say yet, but I'm sure it'll become apparent.

I meant to post pictures of my trip here, but in general I've left the photographing to Janie who is much better at it than me. However, I did take some early on in the trip, so here are some of my favorites of those:

 In South Africa somewhere

 My adorable nephew, Kyran

 My amazing sister, Carla Reinagel

 A boatload of people on the Savanne river

Crossing the Savanne river

 At Savanne beach

Komati River, South Africa 

(Pretty impressive for out of a moving bus window, no?)

African: Time, Food, Football, and Stories

Greetings, my dear family, friends, and random people I don’t know who are possibly reading my blog,

Life goes on here in Africa. I just finished reading a book about ministering cross-culturally, and it had a fascinating chapter in it about how different cultures view time management and being late. I’ve been told (and have observed myself) that Mozambicans are very laid back about time. On one hand, things take forever to get done, which can be really frustrating if you’re trying to accomplish a lot. But on the other hand, everyone has a very relaxed and carefree attitude, the study of which Americans would benefit greatly from. Most of us really don't know how to stop and enjoy life, and society doesn't make it very easy to do so. Speaking of time, I have loved being able to spend time with my sister Carla and brother-in-law Jon again. I look up to both of them so much, it’s so cool to live with them and see the work they’ve done here. And, they’re both such amazing Christians, I learn so much when I’m around them. Besides being awesome missionaries, they’re hilarious people with senses of humor much like my own (scary, right? You bet!). We’ve enjoyed many a game of Settlers of Catan, which I discovered I actually enjoy a lot (I didn’t use to very much) now that I really understand how it works. I’ve even won a few times *woot* which may explain why I like it so much better now. =)

The food here is very good (though as I said before, there isn’t much variety), I have liked just about everything I’ve had, maybe excluding the definitely fermented, warm, lumpy corn mush drink thing. Oh, and the “shrimp” dish that tasted like canned dog food. Other than that, I have loved the beans and rice, fish and rice, spinach and rice, goat and rice… it’s a good thing I love rice, I guess. All of the afore mentioned toppings for rice are also served for lunch on ‘xima’ (pronounced ‘shee-ma’), which is kinda like really, really, thick grits, for those of you who know what grits are. 

The other day, I played my very first (believe it or not) game of football, or soccer, to you Americans. Yes, actually my first real game of football, or ‘futebol’ as they call it here. I became an instant fan of the game and I plan on playing it a lot more when I get back to the states, though I am wondering if it will be as much fun if I speak the same language as the people I’m playing with. I played it with a bunch of girls from an orphanage place called “House of Blessing” I got to go to couple of times. It was started and is run by a really awesome lady from Alaska named Lee. She’s given a safe and loving home to over 30 kids who really didn’t have any hope. I know this because Janie and I were put on the task of interviewing some of them while we were visiting. Among other questions, we asked for stories of their lives before they came to HoB. Some told long, heart-wrenching accounts of abandonment, death, sickness, and hopelessness, but the one that impacted me most was from a little girl of about 8 or 9 named Rosina. She was very somber and quiet and we couldn’t get much out of her, but we tried asking her if she had any stories. Her reply was only nine words long:

“We didn’t have enough food. My mommy beat me.”

I had just listened to lots of other kids who had similar stories, many of them honestly worse than that, so this was nothing new. The difference was none of the others told it with such a downcast face or with so much pain in their eyes as Rosina did.

Lee (or, 'Mama Lee' as all her kids call her) is an artist and loves to do lots of arts and crafts but especially jewelry making. She’s taught all her girls how to make all sorts of neat stuff that they can sell. I got a lot of really cool and creative ideas from them (I honestly had never thought of making wallets out of juice cartons) and I actually got to teach them how to make friendship bracelets, a skill I just recently picked up from Carla. I'll close with a picture of me showing Rosina the ways of bracelet weaving: 

 Photo courtesy of Janie Smith

  

Africa Update, FINALLY!

YAY! I’ve successfully traipsed myself and my luggage across three continents, four countries, and countless cities via three planes, an SUV, two buses, and a Land Rover. My final destination; the city of Dondo, Mozambique in the gorgeous, amazing, glorious continent of AFRICA. I apologize to all friends and family who have been patiently waiting (or not, as the case may be) for some news of my existence. For all you knew, I fell of the face of the earth, and I’m genuinely sorry for taking FOREVER to write anything here, but it’s so hard to pull myself away from all the things that are happening for long enough to write anything. It’s difficult to spend hours on the computer when Africa is waiting just outside. Oh, Africa. The very name sends shivers down my spine, as I suspect it always will. Words cannot be used to describe it; it is just something you have to see and feel for yourself. I have loved every second I have been in this place, and I could not be happier to be here.

So much has happened since I got here; it’s so hard to sum it up. The flights coming here were all very nice and awesome (I love traveling, flying especially). If you want to read some really cool musings and thoughts about the trip over, read Night Flight: Musings and Poetry on the blog of my good friend Janie Smith. Janie is traveling with me and will be with me in Mozambique the whole time I am, so we have most of the same experiences. And, since we’re very similar, we share the same thoughts and feelings on a lot of things, and she (unlike myself) is very good about actually blogging and posting stuff, so if you haven’t heard from me in ages, take a glance at her blog: The Chronicles of Janie and you’ll have a good notion of what’s happening to me. She is also a very good photographer, so if you want to see pictures of our trip before I get around to posting any, which may be a while... (Humm, well, the original plan here was to give you a link to Janie's picasa album, but I can't find it, and she's already asleep, so I'll post a link to it tomorrow. Sorry!)

So anyway, what’s actually happening to me? A lot, a whole lot. Being in Mozambique has given me such a profound appreciation for so many things I’ve taken for granted all my life. Things like living in an environment where you can walk up to anyone and be able to talk to them. Before I left, someone asked me what I thought the hardest thing for me would be, and I predicted that not knowing the language would be my biggest frustration. Well, I was right. The bugs, heat without a/c, weird food with little variety, the ‘running’ water that seldom does so, being sick, having random drunk guys try to kiss me (awkward), doing all my laundry by hand, and nasty toilets… all that barely phases me. But oh, how I wish I could talk to people without an interpreter. Nevertheless, life still goes on here at the Iris Ministries base here in Dondo, Moz. Thankfully, I can still make myself useful in the mission field without knowing Portuguese by helping Carla and Jon with random stuff around the mission base. If I baby-sit my (adorable) nephew, do dishes, design things in Photoshop, clean house, cook food etc, it gives Carla and Jon a nice (and much deserved) break, or it frees them up to do more important things, like teach bible classes. Doing dishes and baby-sitting probably isn’t exactly what most people envision when they think of mission work, and to be honest, neither did I until now. But I’m actually immensely glad that I can genuinely help Jon and Carla by doing things I already know how to do and can do well; I’m happy as long as I’m being useful. I’m learning so much about what it’s like to be a missionary, it's great. So yeah, I’m finding out missionary life isn’t always a life full of adventure, danger, amazing encounters with God and the supernatural etc… a lot of it is just normal, everyday stuff. Which is totally okay with me, by the way. I am having a BLAST meeting new people, making friends, learning about the culture, the people, and the area. And like I said, I’m happy as long as I’m helpful. And to be fair, plenty of exciting things have happened too. I’ve gotten to preach in a prison, pray for sick people at a hospital, go street witnessing in the capitol city, assist in the widow ministry, see demons cast out of people, feel God’s presence stronger than I ever have before, and learn a lot about spiritual warfare and spiritual gifts. So life isn’t boring either.

Well, I’m afraid that’s all the news you’ll get from me today. Have a blessed day, week, month, and may God be with you.