Movie Night(s)

So, Kim and I are pretty good friends with the lady at the movie rental place nearby.

Today, she tells us we should really go out at night, not just go home and watch movies. She says we need to go meet people, have a few drinks ("even just coffee!"), hang out, make friends.

It's important at this point to remember that her job is to rent out movies. That's how she makes a living.

And she's telling us to give up on the movies and get a life. What a painful critique of our lifestyle.

But that's not all we do for fun. Why, just today I dewormed myself. That sure was fun. And I'm reading a book, "Frugal Living for Dummies." Also fun. Financial and fun.

And, honestly, I'm sick of having fun. Our vacation is over, and now we're just stuck in Nairobi until some team issues shake themselves out and we're cleared by TIMO to go back into Lopitland. So, I'm trying to "work" as much as possible--studying language, reading curriculum books, doing what I can for the media team.

I'd prefer my mud house to this stinky city any day. But, it's true, I wouldn't mind if there was a movie rental place in Lopitland... Maybe I am as pathetic as she says.

On the phone...

This is my brothers and me on Easter.

Aren't we a funny looking trio?

That's me in the middle there, in all black. And connected to the wall.

You know, like... on the phone.

Yeah, we're a clever bunch.

I was able to phone home during my family's big Easter dinner, which was actually pretty sweet. Even my grandma and grandpa were there. And Kev and Riss and Brandon. (Amy had to work.) And the kids, who were too busy with their Easter eggs to bother with their strange auntie in Africa.

But, still, lots of fun. :)

Happy Easter!

He is risen!

(He is risen indeed!)

Game Time (Travel)

I just watched the Super Bowl.

It’s… March 22nd.

And, amazingly, I was still able to get pretty into it. I knew the Giants won and everything. Even knew they did it in style at the end of the fourth quarter. But with a little more than two minutes left in the game, I still found it hard to fathom such a comeback. And when Eli did pull it off in the end, I still managed to get pretty excited.

Anyway, you don’t care about the Super Bowl, I know. That was ages ago in America. But, I dunno, still kind of a fun night for me here in the land of Far Far Away.

Between want and know...

If you haven’t noticed, lately I’m basically a wavering, sputtering, pathetic little mess of a woman who just wants to know where to point the bow of this sometimes sinking ship.

(That may or may not have been slightly dramatic.)

So I’ve taken to getting counsel where I can get it. And yesterday where I could get it was from Kurt, who spoke these cryptic words:

“Andi, don’t do what you want to do. When someone does what they want to do, they often end up frustrated. Instead, do what you know to do.”

Huh. Alright.

But it makes sense.

Consider this: I want to minister directly to unreached people. I want to live in the bush, and to live there well, to thrive. I want to have lots of relationships that are deep, despite huge cultural gaps. I want to be good at learning an unwritten language.

I want to be able to do all those things. But, in reality, I’m just not that person. What I know—my skills—don’t align. I just end up frustrated. I’m not doing what I know; I’m doing what I want.

You with me?

It’s pretty humbling, to have to look at things and say, yeah, I want to be that woman, I want to be able to do all those things. But God has given me gifts elsewhere, and I’m just going to have to look outside my little “but, but, but—this is what real missionaries do*” box and see how He wants me to put them to good use.

(*That, there in the quotes, is a ridiculous statement, and I know it. Just so I’m not misunderstood.)

And it’s not that these two years have been useless. No, no, no. Absolutely not. This team, this place, these circumstances—the good and the bad of all of them—are just what God had for me, what He wanted me to go through, to push through, to learn through.

Now I’ve just got to figure out what my skills are exactly, and where I can use and develop them for God’s glory.

That’s simple, right?

Right.

Running on sunshine...

I got see Pattie yesterday. It was pretty great. I had to patiently wait my turn to hug her ‘cause Kim got to her first. Pattie’s still a lot taller than me, which means I still feel pretty awkward when I have to stand on my tiptoes to make up the difference. Guess I oughta get used to that. I don’t see a growth spurt in my future. And it’s unlikely Pattie will start to shrink.

I digress…

You know, I think yesterday was an all-star kind of day. We dropped by the international services office at the hangar, and everybody who was anybody was there. Including, by not limited to, our core favorites from DIGUNA. Chanda, obviously. (Chanda, by his very nature, is everywhere.) And then Kurt and Hannah, who oversee the DIGUNA region that includes Sudan. We hardly ever get to see them, so we were pretty gleeful when we just happened upon them. (You remember when I went on and on about people bringing us cheese so long ago? That’s them.) We just love them. Really do. And they don’t seem to mind us.

(Apparently, it’s not uncommon for Germans to be repulsed by Americans. At least that’s what Daniel tells me all the time.)

Anyway, after a hard morning, it was like rays of sunshine each time we saw a familiar face. And it was something like home to sit down with them for lunch at Java House. It really was a blessing.

Home.

I remember once when I was little, I was at my grandmother's house, and I just really, really wanted to go home. I just wanted home, you know? I think I was a miserable little thing, and I distinctly remember making my aunt equally miserable and quite angry. I do believe she thought me quite rotten... and even told me so before I left.

I miss Sudan.

And I very, very, very much want to go home to my leettle Ellen, my neighbors, my cozy little mud house and my lumpy little mattress.

I just want home.

Boatspotting...

I discovered a new pastime while in Mombasa.

I like to watch boats.

Yup, boats.

In fact, one day, I spent probably half of my time arguing with Kim about whether the big chunk of something on the horizon was a boat or a rock.

The other half of the time I spent second-guessing my own position on the matter.

Seriously... Very good times. Very good vacation-esque times.

I-L-L...

I watched the Illini game tonight.

And by watched, I mean I sat in front of my computer screen and stared at ESPN.com’s scoreboard, which updated at an agonizing snail’s pace every few minutes.

That is, before it pooped out with 14:14 left in the second half. But, then again, so did the Illini. So I guess the internet going out wasn’t all that tragic.

Shame about all that. The idea of getting an automatic bid to March Madness got me excited for my poor parents, who have suffered optimistically through the whole pathetic season and have messaged me scores throughout the tournament. Never once have they failed to “INI” my “ILL.” They’re great like that.

Anyway… next year! And maybe I’ll be around to beg a game or two off my parents' season tickets. :)

On the Coast...

So, I’m on holiday.

Kim and I escaped down to the Coast for a week. With no obligations to a big group travel buddies, no real concerns other than to get a tan (and—as it turned out later—nurse a sunburn) and nothing but the beautiful Indian Ocean at our doorstep, it’s been nice. Really nice.

Well, OK, there was that pesky business with the Dannish Navy.

For a while there, we were under siege by drunken sailors. In fact, the phrase “drunken sailor” has never held so much meaning for me. It seemed a teensy bit overboard—umm, no pun intended—for a bunch of seafaring types to go to port at a hotel with a ship theme. I mean, come on. I don’t stay in a mud hut-theme hotel when I go on holiday. Granted, I’m not sure if such a hotel exists. But I digress…

I stayed myself from making any unnecessary reference to Hamlet. Kim only talked in hushed tones about her misgivings about the nomenclature, Dannish Danes from Denmark. (We’re American Americans from America. Why can’t everyone else be so transparent?) And only once did we feign that we didn’t speak English (only Lopit) in order to get out of potentially long, very slurred conversation.

I can’t tell you how valuable speaking a language unknown to anyone outside a 15km radius has proved to be.

That’s about as exciting as vacation has been for KP and I. Sometimes we hide from the sun, sometimes we bask in it. All the time(s), we have our AC up full blast. And at this time, I think it’s high time for a nap.

So, until next time, I bid you… Adieu, adieu, remember me.

Getaway...

Well, folks, I'll be MIA for a bit here. So nobody get anxious. ;)

But, in the meantime, here are some prayer requests...

• Pray for our team, as some people end their Month Out and start gathering supplies and taking days to relax.
• Pray for Heinrich, Doris, Salome and Philip especially, as they've been battling for months to stay healthy.
• Pray for Martin, who has surgery on Monday morning at Kijabe Hospital. Pray for Cath, just 'cause.
• Pray for Steve & Co., as they come back from Germany with the new baby girl!
• Pray for my typhoid antibiotics to take hold and these ridiculously painful headaches to go away.
• Pray for our team unity and for strength, determination and grace to finish strong in these last months in Lopit and to proclaim the Gospel in word and deed. This is the heaviest burden on my heart--finishing strong.
• Pray that I'm able to love my neighbors and friends as best I know how as we go back to Lopit. That's my finishing strong goal--to love better and to love more.

See you soon!

Question...

Is this friendly or threatening?

"I swear girl if you come down with one more strange illness or fall down one more time, I'm gonna put you out of your misery."

Because I'm trying to decide if I'm going to avoid Jen when she gets back from the north or thank her for her compassion...

TIMO Lopit lovin'...

Heinrich and Doris will be back in town Saturday. So will Cath. And then Martin.

And--drumroll please--Kim comes back Friday.

I know, I know. I’m pathetic.

I know I am.

I miss my roommates, miss my team, and of course I miss my Kimmie.

But I’m thankful for being pathetic in that way, because that means I have real, deep friendships, which hasn’t always been the case.

And, did I mention I’m just ready to get out of Nairobi?

I’m not whining. It’s just that today I spent the day moving from one room of the house to the other, doing that thing on the stairs when you use your legs and your arms to pull you up to the next floor, taking one pill after another to fight this stupid typhoid, and feeling sorry for poor Mendy, who has also contracted some terrible tropical disease that makes her miserable. (It’s not, however, typhoid; we like variety.)

Forgive me if I’d like some familiarity and some of the Lopit TIMO lovin’. :) I can't wait!

Deeper Still...

It’s funny when other people can tell you about who you are.

That’s happened to me some recently—both directly and indirectly—through a couple different avenues.

You know, you people here who read this blog might just have a greater peek into my life and thoughts than even my teammates—yea, even roommates!—do.

It’s true that my thoughts come together best in words—written words. I’m not very good at saying the right thing in a conversation or explaining at a team meeting what’s on my heart. (In fact, I’m downright awful at it; I’m pretty socially awkward.) I can’t ask or answer piercing questions over dinner. I probably talk about the weather a lot.

And there are a lot of things that I would say in written words that would never cross my lips into spoken words. Introspective things. Train-of-thought things. Stuff I’ve chewed on and mulled over.

So welcome into the inside, folks. This is front-row stuff here, I guess.

(Maybe to encourage deeper relationships and more transparency with my roommates, I’ll start reading my blogs over dinner… But that’s a whole other issue. I’m so much better than I was…)

You know, Abe Lincoln was always putting the pen to the paper. No joke. I read a biography on the guy. If he had a important conversation with someone—especially on a touchy subject, or where he was confronting someone, etc.—he would actually, before the conversation, write out what he intended to say. And often he’d give them a letter afterward, basically restating or reinforcing what his point was. He was all about communication—and not being misunderstood. And I suppose maybe, like me, he was better understood on paper.

I must come across somewhat clear on this thing, because people have been able to come right alongside me, right where I’m at, even from across the ocean, even (what seems to me like) out of the blue. Or people I’ve never met in person before can ask and talk about me, my teammates, even my Lopit neighbors, like they’d met them themselves. And—what I love the most—people can pray for us like they were here, like they were battling right alongside us.

So I guess there’s a lot of blessing in that. This is what I wanted. This was the burden—to connect the missionary with the people who sent them. And even if there’s only a few of you out there, it could just be that you feel a little connected.

Sweet. Very sweet.

Opitlay Ibberishgay

Jen and I have been writing back and forth in Lopit.

Neither of us has written—not even in Lopit—that we’re pathetic and missing Sudan. But I think the writing in Lopit says it all.

Mostly because Lopit isn’t even a written language.

We don’t even have a set standard for spelling/pronunciation on our team, since the words can differ even between our villages. (I’m convinced Jen and Cath speak the gibberish dialect of Lopit. ;) )

But we’re writing in it.

Or trying. It’s a lot like phonetic gymnastics.

And really, really fun.

I miss Sudan!

Treasure Chest

Did I tell you I got Christmas packages on my birthday? I did, didn’t I? Probably. But maybe you forgot. I tried to forget. And it was working. Until today.

It all went crashing down today.

I think it was the Nerds that broke me. All sitting there in the box that I tried to hide from myself. I was trying to save all this yummy stuff for Sudan, when comfort food isn’t readily available and there’s three of us always ready for comforting, you know?

I just got so much nice stuff, that’s the problem. Kool-Aid packets and chocolate Santas and popcorn seasoning and this mini pizza kit with fake cheese and Hersheys and Slim-Fast noodles (hehe) and taco seasoning and hot chocolate and TUNA and CHICKEN and easy cheese and a super adorable shirt that I wore for my birthday and… and… and… just all sorts of wonderful stuff.

Oh, and garlic salt. Which I’m clearly going to have to fight Jen tooth-and-nail for.

And, yes, OK, fine. I did just use this as an excuse to peak into the box at all my treasures.

But, come on! You’ve got to understand!

It’s like letting a little kid open up all his Christmas gifts… then making him put them away in a tempting box in the corner of his room. A box with Nerds that call to him. For a month. It’s just like that.

No, no. Worse! It IS that. Exactly that. Only that (apparently) I’m not a little kid, I’m 25 (or something).

But someone should really tell the Nerds that… before they DRIVE ME CRAZY.

The Whole Outfit ...

I know I’m fortunate that God has given me a really deep love for his Word. I’m so blessed in that. I love it. A lot of the time, I can’t get enough.

But, it comes down like a double-edged sword sometimes, because I feel it so much more severely when I don’t desire the Word.

And I was really struggling these past few weeks, when circumstances were telling me I needed to be in the Word most. But I just couldn’t sit down.

Thankfully, normally it just takes one good soaking in the Word to get me up and running again.

My friend Paul sent me this amazing devotional and I’m just lapping up the stuff in there.

I was able to settle in with C.S. Lewis, who took me back to my understanding of the old vs. new self. He said that God isn’t a God of half measures; that he wants nothing short of the absolute commitment. And that doesn’t mean starting from my natural man and letting grace take me from there. No, God has a different starting point.

“Hand over the whole natural self, all the desires which you think innocent as well as the ones you think wicked—the whole outfit. I will give you a new self instead.”

So that was a good reminder for me. That I don’t just go as far as I can by myself, then let God take it from there. It starts from ground zero, it starts at grace, on a foundation of grace—that’s the only way I can grow in the new man.

And you know what’s best? It’s not just any new man.

“In fact, I will give you Myself; my own shall become yours!”

Shoulder Shrapnel

This is the best “What in the world did they put in my arm?!?!” face I have.
And that’s the knot of junk that used to be in my shoulder.
I realized I hadn’t shared its beauty with the rest of the world. So, enjoy.

The latest turn…

Hey, guess what?

I have typhoid!
Is that straight off of Oregon Trail or WHAT?!

I’d totally be the guy everyone wished they wouldn’t have invited into the wagon.

But, honestly? Typhoid? Are you serious?

I was even vaccinated against it.

Hilarious.

You might think it’s weird that I’m so tickled by the whole thing, but—come on! Think of everything that’s gone down in the last few months, and you might just laugh, too. And, it’s a huge relief to me that I’m not going crazy—this explains the bad headaches, the achiness, the inexplicable exhaustion, the being sick.

It’s just typhoid, not insanity. Hooray!