How big is YOUR God?

So, wow, I've got so much going through my head that I could blog. How am I ever going to get it all out of my fingers?

I'm learning so much from God right now. Support raising does that to a person. It's a strange time, actually, because I cycle so quickly through these emotions. Support raising is exciting and exhausting and trying and envigorating... all at once.

After I spoke at Grace UMC in La Salle the other day, Marc gave me the address for the district office of the United Methodist Church, and the secretary there ended up sending out my information to all the UMC pastors in the district. And the response has been really sweet. I've set up two speaking appointments with pastors and there are two others considering it. So how awesome is that? Pretty awesome.

But then I think, my support hasn't budged in a week. Some days, $500 left in monthly pledges seems like a TON. Others, a breeze. And I try to go back to the truth -- God can provide that and much more! But... still... it's... just... so hard.

And then -- here's another praise -- I got a call randomly last Sunday from a woman I'd met at a church I spoke at. Her name is Rhonda. She's great. :) Anyway, God had led her back to my prayer letter and she decided she needed to talk to me. And I'm glad she did! She's already been so encouraging and such a blessing to me. Tonight I had dinner with her and her husband, Wayne, and told them as much as I could about what I'll be doing. Wayne was in Vietnam, so he knows what it's like to live in the jungle. He had a lot of great practical advice for me. Stuff I would have never thought of, that's for sure. I had a lot of fun. I hope I get to hang out with them more before I leave.

What else can I praise? There's so much. God truly has been incredible to me -- teaching me in my trials, blessing me even in my doubt.

I've been running myself ragged, though, so pray that I'd have the energy to keep up this hectic pace or I would listen for God's call to slow it down a few (dozen) notches. I've been sleeping weird hours or not sleeping at all, and I find myself crashing on the couch at work for a power nap or pulling over at gas stations to get some shut-eye while I'm on the road. I can't tell if God is wanting me to trust Him to get me through this business or trust Him in not being so busy. I guess the first thing I need to do is trust Him, period and stop trying to guess what He's up to. Pray, too, for my health and being responsible about getting sleep and eating well. I definitely haven't been doing that lately, which really isn't glorifying to God. Pray I'd keep my firsts first and my seconds second!

And an update on prayer requests. Abby and Vanessa are doing swimmingly on Gilligan's Island. No word on bad things coming about the searches. And the issue I mentioned in my prayer letter seems to have gone away. I'm thankful.

This is already long and babbling -- you can tell I'm tired -- but I have so much more to say. I got information from TIMO today. And I've been learning SO MUCH about God's grace, gifts, trials and blessings not as an end in themselves, but as a means for the final, wonderful end -- the glory of God in the Gospel of Christ. Whoa. I'm just realy excited about all that jazz. I'll share it with you soon.

Oh, and Lauren and I went to the Cubs game Wednesday. Might as well post some pictures from that. It was great, 'cept we missed battling practice (AGAIN) and... the Cubs lost. But, other than that... great times. ;)






Here's the traditional hot dog picture. Gotta get one every year. And then there's the "We asked a drunk guy to take this and it took three tries" shot. Also lovely. Except for the minor fact that my skin looks freakishly pale and... illuminated. So weird.

Oh, and, of course, I had to oogle at Todd Walker (batting). His short haircut looks miiiiighty nice. Lauren's thoughts: "Anything will look attractive when you put a Cubs jersey on it." I completely agree.

mein Wochenende

Phew, this weekend was long. I did eight hours of driving, five hours of horseback riding and 15 hours of working. And a whole bunch inbetween.

So much I have no idea what to write about. (Besides, I haven't slept much yet.) So, instead, I'll give you some pictures.


This is KT and I, letting you know what we think of bridal showers. Actually, this is us acting like... elk. I guess. Or something. Anyway, I went down to Chambana for her shower, which reaffirmed to me how terribly awkward I am in ultra-girly situations. But, that's OK, because Katie is one of the coolest girls I know. And so far from ultra-girly, it's great. (Go Padres.)



I got to stop by and see my favorite kids Sunday, too. This is my friend Thomas (or at least the top of his head) and Kyla, his girlfriend. She's almost 2. He's 23. Weirder things have happened.


Like this, when I got Tom to put on a clown nose for a picture. Actually, it was more Kyla Ann who did the convincing. But whatever. We also played a mad game of soccer with the boys. It was good times.


This is my bionic dog. Actually, he's not bionic. That's just a heart monitor awkwardly strapped to his back. Don't you feel horrible for him? He's become more miserable as the night has progressed. (I wish I had a better picture -- he looks pretty ridiculous.) We found out the other day he has an enlarged heart (sad), so he's going to be getting to know the vet pretty well.

So, anyway, add in some more good times at the OUC missions conference, all those hours on horseback and very little sleeping, and you've got my weekend. Clearly, my life is lame.

Ice cream and other modern wonders...

The funny thing about this whole loving ice cream thing is that I'm allergic to milk. Yeah, have been since I was a baby. So eating my favorite food makes me terribly ill. I think that goes to show the strength of the hold ice cream has over me.

I spent most of the last -- say -- eight years trying to mentally overcome said allergy. I really think I had it mastered my senior year of college, but I've lost the art since graduation, hence the terrible ache in my stomach right now.

Folks tell me there isn't ice cream in Africa. Good ice cream, at least. And certainly not in the bush of Sudan. Meh.

Anyway, I've had an excited last couple of days. I had a really sweet time with the ladies of Grace United Methodist on Thursday afternoon. I'm telling you, they were just so nice. It was awesome. It's nice enough when whatever group I'm talking to feigns interest or -- even better! -- asks questions, as opposed to just staring at me blankly. But these ladies were genuinely interested in what I was doing (or just incredible actresses) and that was a huge blessing to me. Their pastor, Jen, is really cool, too. She's just full of energy for the Lord. I dunno, I could go on forever, but I'll spare you. Suffice it to say, it was great.

God's making some racket in the support area, too. Check this out.
Support-o-Meter:
Outgoing: 72% ($6,829 out of $9,482)
Monthly Pledges: 60% ($780 out of $1,305)
Overall: 62.6%

Sure, there’s still a long way to go, but my outgoing sure is getting close, and people are chipping away at my monthly goal. I’m confident. I’m trying to stay that way. Besides, 39 days is a long time.
Relatively.
If you think about it long enough, positively enough.
Tons of time.
;)

Tonight Oglesby Union started its missions conference with some delicious food and a neat speaker who talked about his experience in Bangkok. Aside from that, it was just nice to sit and talk to folks. I don’t get to do that enough, I don’t think. Mark even joined me, so that was cool. I think we were both amazed by how many missionaries OUC supports—either fulltime folks all across the globe or shorttermers who set out to all sorts of places. Once again, I realize how blessed I am to have ended up here. Crazy how God works.

Alright, I’ve got a busy few days ahead of me, so I ought get some sleep. Tomorrow I get to go horseback riding with the Antrims, then come back for the missions conference stuff, then probably avoid going to a wild party at Doug’s. And Sunday it’s talking to the wee folk at church, then KT’s bridal shower in Champaign, then back to Ottawa to roll out Monday’s edition of the sports section. Pray for energy!

Mourning Derek Lee...

I've officially thrown out my arm. But don't worry, Cubs fans, rumor has it Kerry, Mark and I will be throwing from the mound come Saturday.

(And I hope the two or three people that got that enjoyed it. *sigh*)

Doug and I played catch for more than an hour today and eventually had to resort to a modified version of playing toss so as to avoid my arm actually detaching from my person and becoming forever useless. Our new game was actually quite hilarious. Ever try playing catch with your weak hand? Oh dear goodness, so comical. It takes so much thought for me to uncork a throw left-handed. And the whole ordeal was made better by Doug's hilarious antics/facial expressions. Not to mention the game's eventual evolution to us basically running around in a circle, hurling the ball at one another. (By this time, we'd switched back to our strong hands -- praise God.)

So, anyway, it's been nice actually having people to pal around with during the day. Mark (not of the Prior variety) humored my attempts to teach him Publisher on Monday and endured a (not as strange) game of catch Tuesday. Then Doug seems as bent on playing toss every day as I am. The only problem with this whole having friends thing, I've come to realize, is that I haven't gotten anything done all week.

And that's definitely not such a good deal.

I'm trying to wind down tonight and fighting off a rash of worrying about Africa stuff. It's easy to fall into this late at night because there are little to-do lists scratched out all over my room, most of which are still to-be to-done and focus on all things Africa. It seems no matter how much I do -- even when I am focused -- there's always more to be done, be it immuzations, doc's appointments, bank papers, visas, letters, thank yous or reports to the mission, etc.

And then there's this hanging cloud of The Support Issue. I'm still $3,000 short on outgoing and have to have around $550 materialize in monthly pledges in the next... 41 days. I know God is big enough to do that and more in 41 seconds, but it's still a battle. Every moment, a mental battle. And it's rough. I really could do without it.

But then I think of the lost. The people who've never heard of Jesus. I think of my calling -- loud and clear. I think of the passion God has given me for missions, the love of Africa He's put on my heart. And other things start to fade away and I'm left daydreaming and aching to be there now.

Give me Africa.

I've got a presentation tomorrow/today (Thursday -- however you want to look at it) to a women's group. Please pray God would open up their hearts to the cause, to prayer and to giving. Also, I've got this radio thing Friday I still need to prepare for. (Whoops.) Pray that goes well. And my church is hosting a cool missions conference this weekend -- pray that goes well and that the congregation's hearts would be even more set on getting the Gospel to the nations.

Angie's coming home!!!

This post is in honor of Angiepants maybe coming home from East Asia just in time to see me before I leave for Sudan.

I pray we're able to take a picture, too, since these are all RIDICULOUS.

Clinging to a promise.

So, wow, these last two days... Wow.

God threw me in a prize fight Monday. This was a surprise to me. I was dealt a trio of life-changing, earth-shaking sucker punches and I find myself still struggling to get up, gasping for breath. Too bad the fight is far from over.

(My apologies for the murky analogies. Don't worry -- my intentions for Africa have not changed.)

And so I find myself clinging to God's Word, His promises. He won't give me more than I can handle, but, no, this isn't going to be easy. Praise God for His blessings and His trials... and His trials that certainly are blessings.

Yet again I'm reminded how I'm not in control. I mean, come on! Three mere sentences threw my world off its axis. Were it not for my incredible, steady, sovereign God, I'd be more of an emotional wreck than I am now. And, let me tell you friends, that certainly wouldn't be pretty.

On the way home from work tonight, I was thinking about this, and I came back to a beautiful truth. Every instant, I am one instant away from seeing the face and glory of Christ. It could be now. Or... now. That fast. And then glory. And that's our aim, right? God glorified in the face of Christ. Seeking His face. Setting our eyes on the cross. That's what this is all about. Come Christ. Come glory. Come eternity of worship before our incredible God.

Awesome. :)

In other (ahem... lighter) news, things are moving along toward Africa. Every day is hard, but I find each day God is pushing me in a new way toward obedience and faith. Just little things. And this huge trusting Him thing. (Will I EVER learn?) I've got some pre-field doc stuff tomorrow. Pray that I'll pass with flying colors. The other day a nurse used me as a pincushion, but I came out ahead... and protected from typhoid, hep A, hep B and polio. (Or so they tell me.) Next week -- yellow fever! Woohoo. The wonderful life of a missionary on deputation.

Still haven't got my TIMO manual from my team leaders. They're really backed up 'cause of the whole cholera outbreak thing, I think. (Thank you, cholera, for holding up my precious details.) So, here it is, mid-April and I haven't a clue what I need in the way of supplies. But, hey! God is good. I'm diggin' it. Oh, and! I do have this sweet converter thing Mark got me. Definitely a fan.

Oh, speaking of... Though I hate pictures, I was sent these, so I figure I'll humble my unphotogenic self and share them with ya'll. From shooting on Saturday... a fun gang.

Big moment.

I just bought my plane ticket to New York. :)

My great weekend.

Alright, so.... I've had this away message up this week about marrying Pat Hughes if he was a youth pastor and it made people really confused.

Note to all: Pat Hughes is the WGN radio announcer for the Cubs.

Which doesn't mean I wouldn't marry him -- I mean, he does have a great voice and (according to Cubs legend Ron Santo) is a great dresser -- but the reality of who he is makes it altogether less likely. What I mean to say is, he lives in Chicago. I'm not into the long distance thing.

Aaaaanyway, today capped off a great weekend. Saturday was beautiful and I got to play catch and football with Doug. And Bear (Doug's dog) and I splashed through streams and mud at Starved Rock. Aaaand I got to shoot guns at Mark's house with some of the Steadfast folk. Aaaand I have a sweet bruise to show for it. Aaaand Tommy was in town aaaand we ate steak. Aaaand I saw John and James.

And I'm so done with the extra a's. Suffice it to say -- it was good times.

Church was good this morning. We had it outside and it was great. Cold and windy and a hazard for a tomgirl wearing a skirt, but still great. Mr. Mudge talked about losing Mike, which -- I'm convinced -- will forever be hard. But it was a neat service and it was cool to spend Easter at my new church. It really feels like home there. I mean, sure, my parents wouldn't dream of joining me there, but it's like I have a family there anyway.

And they're so set on getting me to Africa. A few weeks ago, I got to go to for church and found out -- through an announcement! -- that some of the donations they're getting through the missions conference this coming weekend is going toward my trip. I was a little dumbfounded. ;)

To cap off my Easter, we had our family deal here at the house, complete with an egg hunt. And I don't just mean an egg hunt for the kids. Two years ago, my mom decided it'd be great fun to make fools out of us "big kids" by putting money in eggs and making us hunt for them after the wee 'uns got done with their (not as financially focused) one. We were all quite poor at the time -- Bran and Amy just had Allie and Kev and Ris were recently married and I was just... me-- so that made it extra special. Mom brought it back this year for Brandon, Amy and I. Sadly, she knocked down the monetary amounts, but I still made out with 27 Easter dollars, which I will gladly put toward my new Reformation Study Bible which I'm buying... right... now.

In other news, I wish I were in Africa. Today.

Support update.

Here ya'll, 'cause folks have been asking.

Support-o-meter:
Outgoing: 63% ($5,984.25 out of $9,482.00)
Monthly pledge: 58% ($760 out of $1305)
Overall: 59%

Meet my team.

I should probably do this on my web site, but I'll start it here. If you don't know, I'm not alone on this trip to Sudan. I'm going to be with 13 other people. I've "met" a lot of them through email, but there are three I don't know anything about. In fact, I didn't know they existed as part of my team until the last few days. Anyway... here ya go... about my team.

Cath. She's 29, from Cape Town, South Africa. She rocks my face off so far with her emails. You can tell she's all about our team, all about getting to know one another. She's been a fulltime missionary through her church for the last five years, first on the Anastasis Mercy Ship and now (for the past three years) planting and pioneering a Christian primary school in Khayelitsha, a township in Cape Town. So, that makes her... awesome. The school just got it's creds from the gov't, too, so praise God for that.

Kim. She's from the States. I don't know how old she is. Probably around my age? She's go energy. And questions. I feel we'll get a long really well. ;) She grew up in a Christian home and has known the Lord since she was 7, so that's also cool. She recently spent 9 months in Kenya teaching at a primary school, and the culture/people/life there stole her heart. She can't wait to get back to Africa.

Jen. I've actually MET Jen. Like, in the flesh. She's the only one. She's from the East Coast and has an intense love for all things Red Sox. She's a nurse. (BONUS!) She's way on top of things and has a testimony that left our entire Candidate Week crew teary eyed. She knew when she was 14 she wanted to be a missionary. She's done the whole missions thing before, but not long trips like TIMO. She's a baby -- just turned 21.

(Do you love how I'm giving the most random details? Sorry.)

Pattie. She's from Texas, which I hope means she has an awesome southern accent I can adopt. She's 33 and teaches junior high math. God called her overseas while she was doing a missions trip in Mexico, and she ended up spending three years at AIM's Rift Valley Academy (really sweet missionary school I'll have to tell you about sometime) as a dorm mom and teacher. She's got a heart for teenagers and plays guitar and sings.

(The end there sort of sounded like a personal ad. Whoops.)

Daniel. He's one of our single guys from Germany. He's in Pakistan right now, though, workin' hard for Jesus. He's 26. He's gone to Bible college and all that but is also a carpenter, from what I gather. It sounds like he likes to work in practical ways for Jesus -- supportive missions, you might say -- so TIMO (a church planting mission) is a change for him. He served with DIGUNA (the organization we're partnering with on this TIMO trip) in Kenya for 18 months, where he met our team leaders, who eventually asked him to join our TIMO team.

Martin. He's our other single guy from Germany... of which I know nothing about. He's stationed next door to Heinrich and Doris right now in Kenya, though, so Doris gave me his address and I sent him a letter. We'll see if I hear back.

Craig. He's our Aussie. From Adelaide, if that means anything to anyone. (Any Australia experts out there?) He'll be turning 21 any day now. He's only been a Christian for three years but is like me in that he's been put on this intense fast track. His parents are really against the trip. He loves to pray (good man!) and leads prayer services at his church along with being a youth leader in charge of 50 teenagers. I guess he's like some superstar runner in South Australia and loves sports. So that's cool. What's not cool is that he once told me he liked the Yankees. I hope he's just kidding. (Can the evil empire really stretch that far?)

Heinrich and Doris. I've already got them pegged as an uber-cute couple. They're from Germany, also coming through DIGUNA. They're 28 and 29, have been married for two years and have a 6-month-old named Salome. They're in Kenya right now with DIGUNA. I've emailed back and forth with Doris and I'm convinced she's the sweetest woman ever. She's also a nurse (bonus again!) and he's a mechanic (woohoo!) and both have Bible college training. They admit they're uber organized people. I'm glad we share this trait, but it's something that can be a thorn in Africa, where nothing runs on schedules. They say they've adapted well, which gives me hope.

The mysterious Sudan couple. I honestly just found out yesterday that we had a Sudanese couple coming with us, so I don't know these people at all. But I know their knowledge and upbringing will prove invaluable for us, a bunch of outsiders.

Stephan and Iris. Our team leaders. They've got four kids -- Sharon, Michie, Racheland Christian. Like I said in my last post, I have no idea how old they are. Stephan is Swiss. He was born and grew up in South Africa and trained with the military there. He spent six years in Sudan as a missionary before he met Iris there in 1999. She's from Germany. They've been with DIGUNA for quite a while now. They've been going nonstop for the past few months, between preparing for our team and dealing with a cholera outbreak, so they're trying to enjoy some down time now to reenergize. Please pray for them!

Alright, that's it. That's my team. Random details and all. I can't wait to meet them!

Intruder.

Last night, when I came home at about 3 a.m. from work, my dad was approximately two seconds from clobbering me with a baseball bat.

He thought I was an intruder.

Which is funny, you know, 'cause I'm... not. (As much as we'd both like it not to be so sometimes, I do live here at this house.)

So tonight as I came home, I thought about being obnoxiously loud, just so he knew I was his daughter and not a big, burly man looking to deal all our gadgets. But I decided against that, in the interest of sparing my life. (He would surely kill me purposely if I were to do such a thing.) In an ironic twist, however, I ended up 1) slamming the outside door, 2) turning on the uber bright hallway light, not the living room dims, 3) nudging a broom, which clamoured to the floor and 4) hitting the squeaky stair not once -- oh no, people -- but twice. And all on accident. Clearly, I've got volume issues.

But that really has nothing to do with Africa. I'm not yet sure this post will have much to do with the continent, actually. Sorry. No news lately from my team leaders, save that they met Cath, my team member from South Africa, the other day while they were passing through. Oh! Wait! There IS news. They have four children! Woohoo! More kids! Sharon, Michie, Rachel and Christian, to be exact. I have no idea how old they are. But they can't be that old. Stephan and Iris (team leaders) didn't meet until 1999. And in Sudan, no less. A Sudanese love story. (Insert dreamy sigh here.)

Anyway, they've moved into the AIM house central to the Lopit villages and our houses are being built. It seems as though there is some question about whether or not they will be finished in time. Innnnteresting. I could be misreading this. But, I mean, I don't leave 'til June 30th (11 weeks), then we spend three weeks in Kenya and another week in a family's house, so there's plenty of time, no matter what. (But prayer for this would be cool.)

So, yeah, Cath is going to send some pictures soon, which makes me uber excited. The pieces are coming together... very slowly... but surely.

A support update for ya'll. I'm now at 52% for my support. It jumped almost 10% over the weekend. Praise the Lord. Crazy, crazy, crazy. Anyway, I'm trying to be disciplined about getting in touch with people and pressing out in faith to have these conversations. I sent out a prayer letter this weekend (did you get yours?), so that's always a fiasco. I have this thing against address labels, so I write the addresses and return addresses myself. It's a little tedious and rough on ol' Ms. Carpal Tunnel, but I'm going to hold out as long as possible. At at least $.84 a pop for letters from Africa (that's the rate from here to Kenya, at least), I don't envision myself being able to do a whole lot of snail mail action. Which reminds me, too, that I have to find someone to do my prayer letters while I'm gone. (I will allow them to use address labels. ;) ) So many details I need to iron out! Ugh!

It should be clear that I'm just babbling at this point. I had a rough day of losing my patience and just being dumb in general about work. I hate Crabby Work Andi. Pray for that, if you will. And pray for my replacement -- I should be done there in about seven weeks, Lord willing.

Ok, I'm going to post about my teammates.

I love Todd Walker.

I have about a thousand things to say but no time to say them. We're going to go bullet style today. Ready? Go.

• My friends Abby (see her earlier letter) and Vanessa sent word about trouble on Gilligan's Island. "About one month ago members of our larger 'family' living here but from *******, took hundreds of shoe boxes from operation Christmas child and distributed these in many villages. The religious leaders here were not happy about this, but they were doing nothing wrong. But the leaders kept a close watch on the happenings, and when two 'GOOD BOOKS' were found they had their ammunition. One brother was arrested, but set free within 24 hours. But the shepherd of this family has been questioned, and has met with many government officials and they are angry. Please plead for our family here that they may not be weakened but strengthened by this, but we are now not sure what will happen with their shepherd, He may be forced to leave the island. SO please plead during these next few weeks, especially this week." I'm thinking you'll be able to read through the code. Anyway, they ask that you would pray for the situation and that it would be used for the advancement of the Gospel. Don't worry -- they're not in danger. Worse case they get questioned. It's all good.
• I'm a doofus and just realized my support is due a month earlier than I thought it was. That is, on May 30th. In about seven weeks. So, please pray for that -- I'm still less than 50% along and need about $700 more of monthly pledge. But I'm confident the Lord will bring it in. Lots of calm going on here in Oglesby. (After the initial freak-out stage, that is.) Pray for self-discipline in my work and new contacts.
• I speak at a women's group Thursday. Keep that in your prayers, if ya will.
• Ummm... but there seemed to be so much to say...
• Have you ever bought a one-way ticket? Yeah, me neither. I started looking at tickets to New York this week. (We stay at HQ in NY two days before we leave for Africa.) That's kind of exciting, but kind of scary, since I'm not 100% sure I'm really going. Pray I'd be able to take this step -- and steps like it -- in confidence. :)
• Pray for the details.
• Pray for my excitement level. All this Africa stuff combined with some amazing baseball from the Cubs has me going at top speed. I don't want to crash and burn.
  

And, lastly, here's a cool story for you. Last weekend at church, Pastor Jack talked on Matthew 20:1-16, the parable of the laborers in the vineyard. It was such a nice thing for me to read -- this familiar parable -- because I was reminded of when I first read it. Before I was a Christian, as God was really starting to work in my life, I came across it. I remember feeling SO RELEIVED that it wasn't too late for me, that God would still forgive me, that I could still accept this Jesus guy and still have the gift of eternal life, even though I didn't "start" until I was 20. Ha. It's funny looking back now. But, wow, that was a great day.

For your reading enjoyment: 1"For the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. 2 After agreeing with the laborers for a denarius a day, he sent them into his vineyard. 3 And going out about the third hour he saw others standing idle in the marketplace, 4 and to them he said, 'You go into the vineyard too, and whatever is right I will give you.' 5 So they went. Going out again about the sixth hour and the ninth hour, he did the same. 6 And about the eleventh hour he went out and found others standing. And he said to them, 'Why do you stand here idle all day?' 7 They said to him, 'Because no one has hired us.' He said to them, 'You go into the vineyard too.' 8 And when evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, 'Call the laborers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last, up to the first.' 9 And when those hired about the eleventh hour came, each of them received a denarius. 10 Now when those hired first came, they thought they would receive more, but each of them also received a denarius. 11 And on receiving it they grumbled at the master of the house, 12 saying, 'These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.' 13 But he replied to one of them, 'Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? 14 Take what belongs to you and go. I choose to give to this last worker as I give to you. 15 Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?' 16 So the last will be first, and the first last."

I've GOT to get better about posting.

EE Education

Hey gang. I finally got that new information about Lopit up on my Sudan Web site. Check it out. There's some cool stuff. :)

(I couldn't get the link to work, so click to the one over -----> there.

Cholera update.

In my last prayer letter, I wrote about the cholera outbreak that was going on around the village -- where I'll be stationed and where my team leaders are stationed now. I've got an update, passed along from Stephan (my team leader).

The epidemic didn't make it to the village , except for two cases from travelers.

Medair (a Swissh Christian medical team) came to help in the village . A team of 12 expats went to live in the most affected area and set up a treatment center. Since they set that up, only two more people died. They came late and had other difficulties, too. Now the epidemic is coming to a close as far as the cycle is concerned.

Stephan and Iris spent the last three weeks wading between sick people and didn't get sick. And neither did anyone from the Medair team. Praise God.

A lot of people were asking about my safety, in light of the outbreak and other things. It should not affect our team at all. Stephan assures us we will be in good hands medically -- "We will take no risks," he said. He says cholera is avoidable and treatable. It can be kept out of a village with just a big of education on hygiene. So, have comfort!

Neat story.

I had a little support raising thingie this weekend at the Roesler's house in Champaign and I invited Melissa (formerly Marusich) and Will (formerly Billy) to come hear about my trip. And while we were all talking afterward, Will told another lady there a pretty sweet story. And I thought I'd share it with you.

Some background. Mel and Will were Christians in high school. Will was the cool boyfriend from another school who went on "mission trips," a concept I did not even remotely understand at that point.

He started by telling Pam that I was a very special person. Very special. As it turns out, while Will was on one of those mission trips -- YWAM in Colorado -- God put me on his heart to pray for. Everyday. And so he did, even though he didn't know why.

Enter senior Homecoming. By this time, I'd run myself ragged (literally) and had hurt my legs something fierce. (Losing my legs was a big part of God taking everything I had away and showing me what I really needed -- His Son.) No one really knew, but I also wanted out of life pretty badly.

Will told Pam that, that night he knew God was going to ask him to do something in my life. And so when we were sitting on a couch at the after party, Will asks me -- out of the blue -- if he can pray for my leg. From my perspective, I was like, uhh, sure thing, Billy. But from his, it was just what he was supposed to do.

And that night has stuck with me forever and I remembered it along the way, as God was bringing me to Himself. And it's funny, because I was thinking about bringing it up with Will, not expecting him to remember at all, but then he starts telling Pam about it.

And I was kind of in awe. :)

(This might be one of those you-had-to-be-there stories.)

Info on Lopit!

I won't lie, I've been getting pretty anxious about getting information about Lopit and what I'm going to be up to come June. A team member forwarded me an email from our team leaders. I'm just dropping it in here rather raw for now -- I don't have much time -- so I hope you enjoy knowing exactly how the details come trickling in to little ol' me. :) Some things caught my eye -- I put them in bold.

Lopit, a Nileotic tribe by origin living on the Lopitmountain range of South Sudan.
Live on steep mountain sides in huddled together secure villages.
They do cultivate and also have cows. Danger comes from neighboring tribes who raid for cattle.
In Eastern Equatoria (EE) where Lopit is situated, the norm is that it is good to kill, bad not to kill.
A man who has never raided cattle or killed the enemy is considered useless and he is treated like a boy.
Most tribes here are heathen with Rain makers, witchdoctors, and Land Lords, considered the source of eitherblessing and cursing.
A history of mission work by AIM although disturbed by the war and restrictions by the muslim government in Khartoum.
We are following in the tracks left by the AIM. (My team leaders are from another organization -- Diguna, out of Germany-- that is partnering with AIM for this TIMO team.)
Not one village has left its animism to embrace the Lordship of Christ yet. Some become Christians but the home villages remain unreached.
Most Lopit do not know God. They do not even have a name for God to describe the God we know from the Bible.
No Bible. New testament only in a similar language(Othuho/Latuko) - which needs translation in services.
about 120 000 in number but difficult to say for sure.
Other languages of tribes in EE are similar.
Our missionaries after learning Lopit should be able to reachout to some of the other unreached tribes of EE, 9 innumber.
This place is the bush! It is hot in dry season like inthe Low Feld (+ 40° every day and only cooling off toaround the mid thirties at night.)
Primitive living conditions....

Wow. I'm stoked.

My favorite Marine.

So, this is James. No, no, not the one behind the ginormous glasses. That's me. The other one -- that's James. He's my favorite Marine for a bunch of reasons -- not the least of which is that he saved my life in high school :) -- and he was in the area this weekend, so I got to see him. That's a rare thing, so it was especially wonderful. :) I actually hung out with about a dozen Marines that night, which made for some weird looks as we were walking around town. But, let me tell you, I -- as the lone chick among crew-cut, shiny-shoed men -- felt ultra safe.

So, anyway, James gets some blog loving. A little break from the Africa action.

But there will be more on Africa soon...

TIMO in Bara

Got this from my AIM rep today. Thought ya'll might enjoy it.

Here is something you can pray about. Sent to us from David Hennigh, the TIMO Coordinator

...I received news a few days ago regarding a baptismal service held in the villages where our Bara TIMO team is working in Madagascar. Eight believers publicly expressed their faith in Jesus, seven of them were Bara. At the service, a leader from one of the villages who had been attending storying sessions in his village hosted by a couple from the TIMO team, decided that he was going back to meet with his village to talk about following Jesus. God is at work. There have been between seventy and eighty adults and children attending those particular sessions. Please join us in praying that many there will follow Jesus!

I wanted you to hear this, about a recent event with the Bara TIMO team. One of many stories told and untold of how TIMO is changing lives for the glory of God.

Ann Curry in Sudan.

So, Kirk told me NBC has been doing this series on Sudan and sent me this link.

It's some powerful stuff.

Enjoy.

As if I could really give up on Africa...

There was some point in the last five days at which I decided I wasn't going to go to Africa, that the support wasn't going to come in. Well, I guess it was less a decision and more a concession.

And that's all very curious, seeing as how nothing has changed about my heart for Africa. This is just old fashioned giving up, not trusting God. Which is unfortunate, since people continue to die in the Sudan each and every day without hearing the name of Jesus.

I suppose I'm just frustrated -- frustrated because I'm on God's timetable and not my own. Which is also curious, because this is a lesson I've learned before.

I really want to throw my hands up and be done. But then what? I'd just long to be in Africa even more than I am now. I know all I can do is turn to the Lord in prayer and be disciplined in my support raising. Like they say: Work like it depends on me; pray like it depends on God.

So scratch that business about not going. That won't last very long anyway. But pray for my heart, my diligence and... my support. Ugh -- 37% is a long way from done.

God is a BIG God.

Through Gates of Splendor

I finished reading 'Through Gates of Splendor' last night, Elizabeth Elliott's book about her first husband, Jim, and four other missionaries in Ecuador in the mid1900s. The five were famously speared to death by the Waoranis (Aucas), a people known for their violence, especially toward white men. The men were burdened for the Waoranis, that they might hear the Gospel, and so they followed God's leading, even to a communal grave under a makeshift tree house in the Waorani territory. How God has used their ministry -- not only among the Waoranis and surrounding tribes, but in the lives of countless people who followed their story -- is just remarkable. Reading the words Elizabeth penned in a hut just 10 feet away from the hut of two of the seven men who killed her husband -- they had since come to know the Lord themselves -- was also incredible.

This might all sound familiar, as it was a very famous thing -- which shocked the world and changed many lives -- and has recently been made into a movie, End of Spear. I haven't seen the new movie, nor the old documentary, but I have heard the documentary is awesome. I'll have to have myself a movie night sometime soon. :)

Here's some words Jim wrote in his diary not long before he died. I think they're beautiful. "I walked out to the hill just now. It is exalting, delicious, to stand embraced by the shadows of a friendly tree with the wind tugging at your coattail and the heavens hailing your heart, to gaze and glory and give oneself again to God -- what more could a man ask? Oh, the fullness, pleasure, sheer excitement of knowing God on earth! I care not if I never raise my voice again for Him, if only I may love Him, please Him. ... O Jesus, Master and Center and End of all, how long before that Glory is thine which has so long waited Thee? Now there is no thought of Thee among men; then there shall be thought for nothing else. Now other men are praised; then none shall care for any other's merits. Hasten, hasten, Glory of Heaven, take Thy crown, subdue Thy Kingdom, enthrall Thy creatures."

:)

Gilligan's Island

I figured I'd post this for ya'll to read and pray about. This is from Abby, a sweet, sweet girl I met in New York at my training. She's with the company on a TIMO team on Gilligan's Island with Vanessa, another one of the girls from New York. She and I were the ones who drove all the way over to New Jersey to pick up Yankees tickets. ;) Anyway, enjoy.

Greetings Friends!
I have been here on Gilligan’s Island for one month! It really has been a great month! I thought I’d share with you a few of my highlights of life here. Enjoy!
** Ceiling fan and oscillating fan! Yes, it’s that hot to be thankful for good fans! [I probably won't have fans -- they're in a more urban area and have electricity.]
** Madji baridi (COLD WATER!)
** Delicious foods – remarkably, there’s little that I don’t like here. Vanessa and I have made some great meals in our home: the best stew ever as well as mashed potatoes and chicken! Yum!
** JUICE! They have the best juice here, and I try to have at least one glass a day. The other day I had three within a couple hours.
** Enough about food! Just wanted you to know I’m not wasting away! [This was comforting to me. I love food. - amc]

** Hospitable people! I can’t go far without someone talking to me, taking me in, and taking care of me! Especially in the rain – I’m so sweet they think I’ll melt! [This is true. - amc]
** It is raining more now…rainy season. It comes and goes, in between heat waves, and sometimes relieves some of the heat.
** EMAILS!! It is a highlight of my week to check and read emails. Your encouraging words always lift me up.
** Lizards. There are a lot here…and they’re EVERYWHERE! They’re harmless and small of course, but relatively colorful and some even do push-ups!
** Mouse hunt in our house. Yeah, to make a long, exciting story short, we’ve had a family of mice living in our house. We’ve successfully poisoned 4, however, the mother is still at large as well as possibly more babies. The hunt will continue…
** The beach. It is nice to escape the heat when we can to cool off and enjoy the beauty of creation on our day off.
** Language helper, Mansuifat. Our Captain has put me with an incredibly kind and encouraging language helper. We meet four times a week practicing and obtaining new bits of language. She’s become a good friend, and I’m so excited about this relationship and the potential for sharing about our Captain.
** Friends along my daily route. I walk and talk the language several hours a day and I’ve found friends along the way that look for me and miss me when I don’t come. I love how friendly and curious the people are!
** Opportunities to share about Je..s. Each member of our team had opportunities to talk to someone about Him recently. Twice, Vanessa and I encountered a Mu$lm evangelist of sorts and were able to share with him what we believe as well as with the English translator present. It’s encouraging to be able to simply let people know WHO we pray to, and more so when we can say more.
** Sweet fellowship and times of worship with our team. We are able to encourage and uplift each other as well as honor the Captain that’s brought us together and gone before us.
** Settling into “home.” We are blessed with a very comfortable house that has become home for us. Vanessa and I have fun living together and get along well.
Those are most of the highlights from this first month. I don’t know if it sounds exciting to you, but it has been fun for me! The time has flown by! Thank you for your continued pleadings and support. It makes a huge difference. Any opportunities we have to share our lives in deed or word are a direct answer to many of your pleadings. Keep holding up each of our team members’ health. One of us had malaria, but is feeling better now. All of us have gone through colds and things, and want continued strength of body. Also, plead for more opportunities to share, our Captain is at work here, and we don’t want the enemy to squelch or disturb it. Praise the Captain for our safety, health, and earnest desire for Him to be known here! May His glory shine through our lives and may hearts awaken to His call.

Much love to you,
Castaway Abby

"Charlie is a good boy."

I figured I'd poke out a blog before the Illini game.

So, here's a story, in honor of the game. The other day, my mom convinced my nephew Charlie (almost 5) the old orange "MUCK FICHIGAN" shirt of mine she'd given him to wear to bed actually said "Charlie is a good boy." He really thought that was great. How horrible is that? Pretty horrible.

In other news, I got an email from Pete and Maribel, a couple from Texas, who directed me to this Web site, Project Persecution. That link will take you to some video footage. I haven't look at all of it yet, but will later. There are newsletters, too. So you might want to check that out.

I'm starting to think maybe this idea I have that I'm not going to be in the fighting isn't really a good assumption. But I really have no idea. Guess it doesn't matter, eh?

Wow, this is a lame post. I'm tired, so I'm going to have to bag a nap here before Illinois plays.

This is long.

So, wow, still haven't sat down and pounded out a decent post. I feel like I owe it to my great big audience (sarcasm) to blog something significant. So I'm going to give that a try.

Last week was really busy. It started Sunday with a presentation in Mendota, ended the next Sunday with a presentation in Peru and was filled with two other missions committee appointments (in Princeton and Ottawa), three sit-down dinners with friends and 55 stinkin' hours of work. Looking back, I'm befuddled. How is that mathematically possible? Wow. Let me tell you though, all those appointments -- SO ENCOURAGING. The folks at Mendota Bible Church didn't laugh at me and my chipmunk cheeks (I had my wisdom teeth taken out). I left First Baptist of Princeton feeling terribly refreshed and challenged. The missions board's love for Africa matched my own. Most everyone there had been, and they had a lot of insight for me. There's a senior in high school on the committee at Trinity Lutheran in Ottawa, which I think is just awesome. And I might go back there to share my heart with the whole congregation. And this last Sunday I was at Faith Assembly of God in Peru, where the outpouring of love and encouragement was... awesome.

Aaaaand, even better, Mark (the youth pastor) let me come to SuperChurch and talk to the kiddos. Aaaaand, on top of that, I got to be Mary in a skit and wear a super-cool costume.

It seemed like everywhere I went -- no matter how poorly I spoke or how much I had to battle my chipmunk cheek-ness -- there was an outpouring of support, in prayer and even some financial. I really felt like God was blessing my willingness to step out, and giving me the power and strength to do it as I did it.

As for a support update, I'm at about 44% for my outgoing costs and 26% for my monthly pledges. That's 'bout 30% overall. That's almost a third of the way there! I guess I could get anxious about it not coming in -- and I certainly feel the temptation to freak out about it -- but I'm going to go with the whole trusting God thing on this. I'm confident it will come in.

Of course, life hasn't been without its down points. It's actually kind of neat -- as I was telling Kimbra on the phone -- to see how when things are "going well," the undertow from Satan gets a lot stronger. He's worried! ;)

I think I've said before that my parents are against me going to Sudan, but that they are the kind of folks who generally let me make my own mistakes and would never "forbid" me to go. I think I might have to check that statement.

Last night at the dinner table we had The First Big Confrontation. I have a feeling it won't be the last. (Luckily, my mother never cooks dinner and I'm rarely home at that hour anyway, so I won't be in such a vulnerable position that often. ;) ) They are worried about my well-being, which is something I can completely understand. Perhaps I should validate their feelings on that more, because I'm aware Sudan is a dangerous place and I know (somewhere in there, maybe not in the part of your brain that actually KNOWS stuff) there is a possibility I won't come back. It's just very easy to (seemingly) brush off their concerns because God has my heart so set on going. My mother actually said last night, "There's no way we're going to win this argument." And all I could say was, "No, probably not. It's you against God." Which probably came out WAY wrong. But I was struggling for words -- any words -- anyway. I wasn't ready for it. Not at all. I just buried my head in my plate and picked at my peas, trying not to cry.

My father asked me why I'd put them in the position where they might not even get my body back. He asked why God would send me -- I'm not equipped, I'm small, I'm weak. I asked who should God send then? Men with guns? Football teams? God tells us He will equip people. Then the conspiracy theory accusations started. My mom wants to know more about AIM. She said they're clearly not concerned about my well-being. She thinks they're just going to take the money I'm raising and pocket it while they send me off to this dangerous place on my own. She said she can't even talk to people about it. She eventually left, presumably to cry. We don't do that around other people in my house.

My father went on. He said, "American. White. Woman. Small. Christian. All the strikes are against you." All I could say was, "African. Haven't heard of Jesus. Dying everyday. Eternity in hell." And I was so weak. So weak. He asked The Question: Why would God let these people live there, knowing that they wouldn't hear of Jesus, and still let them burn in hell? It's in the Bible, it's very clear. But a lot of things are in the Bible, he said, and you can interpret them a lot of ways. I didn't ask when the last time he read the Bible was. Maybe I should have. All I wanted to do was get out of there, to call Lisa or Kendra or Tom or someone who understands. I wanted my comfort zone. Finally -- praise God -- the phone rang. But I'm sure the elephant won't leave the living room for a long, long time.

Have you ever tried to explain sight to a blind person? It's so hard, especially when you love that person very much... and all you want is for them to SEE.

And on top of that, I've got an acquaintance from high school who's also on the war path against Sudan. I don't know how to even answer this kind of stuff from people. Nothing that is said -- from someone who doesn't hold Jesus as Lord and Savior, from someone who themselves is without the very thing I so long to bring to Sudan -- is going to keep me from going. (Sidenote: If God intervenes through godly counsel, then I'll take a long hard look at that -- I am not so prideful as to think God can't change plans.) I think I've got to stop trying with words and just try with prayer. And actions.

I long ago calculated the cost of following Christ. I guess it's just now coming into more of a focus. Going to have to go find myself some fighting verses.

This was a really, really long post. Sorry.

A promise to blog later.

Well, friends, there's so much to report ... but I haven't been able to sit down and blog yet this week.

And tonight won't be any different.

But I've got a lot to share, so expect more later. Here's a short list.

First, God's teaching me about cultivating not only my mind, but my heart. And He's uber-blessed that practice so far.
Second, I'm reading more books about missionaries (sort of linked to the first thing up there). And I'm encouraged. But kind of scared. But not terrified.
Third, in case you're wondering, there's no amount of telling me how horrible Sudan is that will keep me from following my God there. Take note. :)
Fourth, the Illini start Big Ten Tournament play in about 14 hours. Go Illini.
Fifth, this week has been really busy with work and support appointments, but God is keeping me afloat. And I really have no idea how. Pray that I'll be wise about how I spend my time this weekend (ie: probably resting and not running around everywhere like normal).
Sixth, I'm starving for referrrals. S.O.S., S.O.S.

My God is big enough. :)

You would.

I’ve got a heavy heart tonight because something one of my best friends often says just keeps repeating in my mind. Whenever support stuff comes up—you know, when she asks me what I’ve been up to, which is always support stuff, it seems—she says, “I could never do that, ask people for money, raise support. I just could never do that.”

It just hurts me. Stings. And she loves Jesus, very much. But a lot of folks put God in a box, especially when it comes to money. And I just cried tonight as I was driving to work because I know my God is big enough. Deep down, somewhere, I know that’s true. And I just wish that she would see that, too. That God is big enough to provide the money I need to go to Africa and more. It’s all his, anyway—every beast of the forest, the cattle on a thousand hills, all that moves in the field.

And I want her, and everyone, to see that they would do it. They would do it because they’d have to do it, just like I have to do it. I don’t have to raise support because my mission organization says so; I have to raise support because my God says so. I have no choice because my heart is so broken for the African people. It’s broken because God broke it. And He broke it because He wants His name to be glorified among all the nations. And I’m joyous about that. I’m far from a reluctant missionary.

If you really understand the burden of the darkness there—that people are living and DYING every day without hearing the name of Jesus Christ and, because of that, spending an eternity in Hell—certainly raising support would seem like such a small thing. Why should I—the chief of sinners—be spared by the grace of God (a gift, free and undeserved) and not overflow with joy because of that? How can I hold my tongue? How can I deny God’s power when I look at what He did on the cross? At what He’s done in my life?

And that’s a hard perspective. I don’t always keep it, to be sure. But He brings me back to it. And He brings me back to the cross. And He reminds me that His hand is over everything. And I’m going to be just fine. God will be glorified in peoples’ giving, in their sacrifice. He will be glorified in me trusting Him to provide. And He will be magnified when He brings it all in, if that is His will.

Ugh.

Things that will not be in Sudan

Last night I started reading a book Barb Alleman gave me a while back. It's called "Beyond Jungle Walls: Bringing Hope to the Forgotten Congo," and it's written by a woman who spent 42 years with her husband working in the deep jungle of the Congo. I got through about five chapters last night, and that was enough to make some decisions about things that aren't going to be in Sudan.

Here's my list.

• Cobras. Yup, no cobras. None. In fact, there will be no snakes whatsoever. Especially not slithering down my walls so I have to chop them in half with machettes (!!!) or cropping up in the only doorway between me and my new baby.
• Panthers. Zero big cats.
• Jungle rats. Especially of the variety I'm expected to eat.
• Angry monkeys. Happy monkeys, yes. Content monkeys, sure. Just not angry ones.
• Bugs. Certainly not the kind that would suddenly seep through the ceiling and walls when it begins to rain outside. Or the itty, bitty ones that would get into my flour and -- despite a bunch of sifting -- never entirely be removed.

I'd say that's enough for now. I'm sure I'll have more once I read more of this book. I picked this thing up because it was brought to my attention (thanks Pete) that I'm really focusing a ton on expanding my mind, but only at the expense of not cultivating my heart. And, since the former wasn't really going that well, I'm praying that doing the latter will benefit me both ways. I love it when people speak truths into your life and you're like... "Well, duh, why didn't I think of that?"

I heard from some more teammates today : Heinrich (28), Doris (29) and baby Salome (6 months). That's right -- a baby is coming with us! I got really excited about this 'cause I love kids. But then it came to mind that -- hello -- I'll be living in an African village. There won't be any shortage of childrenfolk. Clearly, I'm stupid. But, I'm still excited about the young'en. Salome's gifts include "smiling, attracting people" and she's interested in "Daddy's computer and mum's hair." (they are admittedly really structured/organized people, so they made a chart listing similar characterists about all of them. A couple after my own heart.)

Alright, back to work. I've got to prepare myself for the rapidly-approaching Illini game.

I look like a chipmunk.

I think hearing everyone else's horror stories about getting their wisdom teeth out has been the worst part of getting my own wisdom teeth out. I mean, come ON people.

More on beholding Christ...

Words that are carrying my heart right now...

"As we behold the glory of Christ in the gospel and savor his purity, we start to see sin as repugnant, and salvation as magnificent. We see people no longer, as Paul says, 'according to the flesh' (2 Cor. 5:16), but with a love that 'bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things' (1 Cor. 13:7). We despair of no one, because in spite of human depravity, 'with God all things are possible' (Matt. 19:26). And we see culture no longer merely with the eyes of seduction or despair, but with the eyes of hope. The sovereign, living Christ will someday claim this world for himself. Our spirit is wakened and enlivened by beholding the glory of Christ and his passion to make all things serve the glory of his Father."

JP, "God is the Gospel"

Blah.

Last week I finally sent out support letters to some of my good friends. I took the time to carefully give my pictures on some of the the brochures ridiculous mustaches, glasses and other assorted accessories (often some sort of food product, like ice cream or pizza). I hope that this attention to detail speaks to the hearts of my would-be supporters.

Whatever the case, it was fun for me.

What was not fun for me was this weekend. Blah. Just a horrible weekend. I worked until 6 a.m. Saturday morning and it just went downhill from there (with a brief hiatus from horribleness for the Illinois/Iowa game) until I capped it off with another late night at work from Sunday early evening to 4 a.m. Monday morning. And, yes, Saturday was my stupid birthday. I turned 23. See previous post about life crisis. And Sunday at work not only did the reporters not get their Saturday night stuff to me until just after midnight MONDAY MORNING, I had to work with Sexual Harrassment Boy.

Have I talked about Kyle on here? I have no idea. He's this creepy 24-year-old guy who is a part-timer for sports but is in there constantly, talking and talking. And often he's talking about which high school female athletes are hot. Or how hot I look in what I'm wearing or with my hair down and why don't I leave it down? And why don't I wear that one sweater he likes? I don't remember which one? Well, he'll just have to come go through my closet and show me then. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! He is the poster child for sexual harassment. But he's "just being Kyle," as far as The Times is concerned, and I'd be the Sports Department Jerkface if I brought a sexual harassment lawsuit down on him. But UGH he just makes my skin crawl.

Praise God that I get my wisdom teeth out Wednesday and won't have to work for a couple days. These 6-day, 50+ hour weeks are too much for me to handle when you add in all the other The Times hoopla, especially Kyle.

And I'm whining. Honestly, I think I've made grumpy my lifestyle this weekend. I've been struggling with work and how I react to it for some time now. I think I've been focusing too much on that reaction, what I'm doing. Last night I was reading "God is the Gospel" by John Piper and he was talking about how when we focus on Christ, we will become more like him. And so I'm going to stop looking just at myself (selfish, selfish, selfish) and start beholding Christ... and pray I'm transformed from there.

"And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit." (2 Corinthians 3:18)

I'm 23...

... and I think I'm having a life crisis.

Wasting away.

I've been in front of my computer for the last two hours, sitting in the wasteland that is the Cubs Virtual Waiting Room, anxious for the chance to buy single-game tickets for Wrigley.

And, while I should probably be sleeping or running errands, I'm using the fact that I'm chained to my computer (and my parents computer, also hanging out in the waiting room) as motivation to write these support letters I've been putting off.

That's not exactly getting done, as I'm constantly distracted -- as in, twice every 30 seconds, when the browser on each computer refreshes -- and eager to JUST GET TICKETS.

I need them. As in physically. I think it will kill me if I don't get to as many games as humanly possible before I leave for Africa in June. Cubs games are -- Wrigley is -- so deeply engrained into my perception and experience of the flowing of Spring (Training) to Summer to Fall (Classic)... I would be lost without at least a couple visits to The Cathedral of Baseball.

I tried to explain it to my puppy, Nike (this is who I have to talk to during the day), but I couldn't do much more than rave about the hotdogs. Our common ground is limited. This is only natural, seeing as how are taxonomy is so very different.

Am I talking about taxonomy? This post is about baseball.

I love it. Love it. It may (in a very I'm-not-even-close-to-being-serious-way) rival my love for God. I confess it sometimes distracts from it.

It's not just the game. (But, oh, I LOVE the game.) It's the crack of a bat. That unmatched snap a glove makes when you catch the ball right. The Friendly Confines. Chilling lake winds in April. The smell of the freshly-cut grass in June. Sweating through August (by then, more for climate reasons than for any sort of postseason hopes). Pat and Ron on the radio. Hot dogs. Wrigleyville. The attendance game. The old scoreboard. Ron's dog from Canada that won't listen to him because it only speaks French. Souvenir cups. The flagpoles. Falling chunks of concrete. Keeping a scorecard.

I could go on forever.

two-doe-one

There's a couple things that, for some time, I've been almost certain would happen:

1) I would die before I turn 23.
2) I would hit a deer on Dee Bennett road.

And I even had a hunch these two might end up being related things.

So, tonight, as I was slamming on the breaks in the midst of a whole stinkin' herd of deer, part of me was thinking, "Are you SERIOUS?!"

But, as it turns out, I was partly wrong on both accounts. First, I did not die. (Clearly.) Second, I didn't hit a deer. I hit two.

The really amazing part of this whole this is that I came out unscathed. And, if I were the kind of person who could wield blind optimism, I would say that -- since I didn't see either lying on the side of the road -- the deer also came out alright. (I'm sure I'll be having nightmares tonight about those poor things eventually succumbing to coyotes. *whimper*)

And at first, I thought my car was also OK, which went beyond all reason. I actually had to stand in my garage and stare at it for a while before I found the damage -- the little patch of deer hair finally tipped me off. And, really, what damage that the ol' Sebring did incur doesn't seem proportional to hitting two ginormous deer.

I'm sure it won't seem that way when I get the estimate to fix the slightly jazzed front bumper, however. There goes that money I've been saving up for a camera and solar panels for Africa.

And that's the story of me almost being right.

Since The Deer Incident, I've been scavenging for food in my house. Specifically, I've been scavenging for food that can be eaten with Sweet Baby Rays BBQ Sauce ("The Sauce is Boss"). Super pretzels? No. Corn? No. Baked potato? No. I finally had to concede to turning on the oven and cooking chicken fingers. And, naturally, making as much noise as possible so as to wake my mom up for the second time tonight/this morning.

On the Africa front, Africa is still Africa and seeming very far away. I need to kick it in gear with support stuff... or accept the fact that I'll be staying home come June.

Currently eating grapes.

Today as I was driving home from work, I had one of those "Wow, I'm really going to Africa" moments. I was thinking about the Lost Boys I've read about and how they were forced to flee their villages without notice, with just the clothes they had on their backs and what they happened to have with them. I remember one of those boys had only red boxer shorts his dad had given him.

And so that got me to thinking about what that situation would be like -- the unlikely event that I'm forced to evacuate and go on the run. And strangely enough, my thoughts didn't stay long on what I'd eat or how I'd get clean water, but quickly strayed to... just how long I'd have to go without clean underwear.

And so my "Wow, I'm really going to Africa" moment turned into a "Wow, I'm really pathetic" moment.

And now you know.

;)


Stuff to pray for:

• The situation at work. Just when you think it can't get worse... *sigh* Pray for me to be a good witness and for all of us not to fall apart/go crazy/kill each other under the pressure. And pray for wisdom for our management.
• Self-discipline. I'm feeling the crunch of having only 20% of my support four months before I leave. Pray God would give me the discipline to work diligently toward my support goals.
• Supporters. Pray God would open up peoples' hearts to his people in Africa, that they would want to partner with me as I go to Sudan to share the Good News. And pray that I actually approach and ask these people (and stop being a pansy about it).
• Praise. For the fellowship I get when I visit churches. For hanging out with K-Dog and Lees and the Canales clan and other cool people this past weekend. For my family. For the folks who've already decided to support me in prayer and finances. For God and his sovereignty. Aaaaaand, for cookie dough (yum).

On that note (well, the note a few notes ago), if ya'll can think of anyone who might be interested in helping me on my way, totally let me know. I just need names of folks who love Jesus or churches who love Jesus. I want to give them the opportunity to be a part of this.

Letting the big one get away...

Tonight I turned down a chance at a job that most journalists would jump all over.

Yesterday, I got an email from the sports design editor down at the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, saying he'd seen my pages online and wanted to talk to me more about a designers position down there. So, first, wow, this guy emails me randomly because he saw my stuff and liked it. And, second, wow wow, because the P-D has a circ of more than 100,000 (ie: really stinkin' big). I won't lie, I was pretty impressed... and surprised.

But tonight I had to send the email saying that, no, I couldn't even consider the job because I'm working on a short-term assignment now and then moving to the Sudan for two years. And, as impressed as I was with the email, that's the response I had right away -- "Wow. ... But too bad." But it's interesting how, since I shot off that email to the guy, my mind has been gumming on this whole thing.

The devil is using it to sow seeds of doubt. Well, maybe this is the door God really wants me to go through. What if I'm not right in setting my sights on Africa? Then there's pride. Wow, look at me, this is the second GIANT interview I'll have to turn down because of Africa (the first being at Sporting News, another to-die-for place to work) -- another feather in my "And I just graduated!" hat. Then there's even money. Gee, I'd make more than I'm making now... and probably seven or eight times what I'd make as a missionary.

And then I step back and thing how funny those thoughts all are, because I know I'm supposed to go to Africa. I know that, while I'm good at journalism, I'm not passionate about it and don't really like doing it every night. And I know my talent is a gift from God, one He'll use for His glory in His own way. And I know the money makes no difference at all... because it'll burn up in the end, and God will provide for me. I know these things, I do.

It's funny how the devil will weasel in, isn't it?

Pray I'll be able to shrug off this whole Post-Dispatch thing and focus on my path to Africa, that I'd be reminded daily of my calling to Sudan, that my heart would remain tied to Africa (with the intro of Romans ringing in my ears -- I'm a debtor), that God would squish my pride before it festers into something silly.

Jungle baby.

Today the Atrims (the nice folks I met in Decatur who let me cowboy around on their horses all summer) came through the area, so they stopped by good ol' Oglesby and had lunch at Delaney's with me. It was really sweet to see them -- I miss watching them bicker on our long rides around the country roads in Forsyth. ;) Unfortunately, they didn't bring the horses -- I guess they wouldn't have really liked the buffet anyway -- but hopefully they'll get up here soon and go riding at the state parks.

Also today, my mom and I stole my niece from my sister-in-law. Time with Aleksa is basically spent watching her do extraordinary things that aren't really that extraordinary. For example, tonight at Steak-n-Shake we watched as she unwrapped a straw. ("She's contemplating how to do it -- an engineer's mind," my dad muses. "Look at her fine motor skills!" These are actualy quotes.) Earlier in the day, my mom and I watched her eat a popsicle. No lie. We just sort of sit there and watch everything she does. We're totally wrapped around her little finger.

Also at Steak-n-Shake, my mom said I was going to have a "jungle baby." That's right, a jungle baby. I'm not sure there are words to describe this moment and how hilarious it was. She also complained that it'd have some strange name, then went on to speak some garble (presumably some of the Swahili she's picked up here in the Illinos Valley) and tagged "Susie" at the end of it.

Just another moment of my parents being upset that a) I'm not married and/or dating anyone and/or having any prospects and b) I'm taking my 110% single self to Africa for two years. ;) I guess you can't win them all.

Tomorrow I have an appointment with a family from the church in Oglesby to talk about supporting me for my trip to Sudan. This is my first appointment with a family, so I'm not sure how it's going to go. Luckily, I just made it today, so I don't have a whole lot of time to fret about how horribly it will go.

Theeeeen, I get to head to Chambana for the weekend to hang out with Kendra, my discipler from Cru. I LOVE Kendra, so it's going to be awesome to get to see her and just talk and relax and enjoy each other's company. She's been an incredible blessing in my life. So yay about that.

I've babbled enough for tonight. I'm going to go take my future jungle mother self and get back to work...

Checking in...

Note to self: Don't leave a semi-depressing blog, then not post for a few days. Whoops.

I took a few days off to fast and pray and reeeeelax, and it's done me some good, praise God. The good Lord helped me defuse some lies and I'm at least to the point of refusing to take others at face-value. I'm hoping I grow more in this as time goes on... and I avoid any intense backsliding like I've been experiencing the past couple weeks.

Forgot to mention another really cool church visit I had this weekend. I was at Spring Valley United Church of Christ. The deacons arranged a little soup brunch thing (I love when I struggle for words like that, and inevitably just jumble lots of them together with the hope of clarity) for the congregation while I talked some about my trip. The best part was that Pastor Chuck intentionally allowed for time that I could just chat with people, get to know them, answer their questions. I met some cool folks and had some yummy food.

God really had my heart excited about going there, so I pray the people were impressed by His work and the need in Sudan and would be moved to join my team in prayer and finances. I went in specifically praying for five families -- that's a lot! -- to come along side me. So far, there's none. But I'm not going to stop praying.

In other news, I can't walk. I went a little hardcore in my spinning class Tuesday and was really paying for it today. Honestly, my legs feel like tight rubberbands; they just snap around painfully and uncontrollably when I walk. The one positive here is that my inability to move correctly has given me yet another reason not to clean my room, which is in quite a sad state right now.

In more other news, I went to the Illini game tonight with my dad. (The aforementioned walking problem was particularly apparent/painful as we climbed the stairs to the C section.) I found myself very ruffled at the fact that the band decided to go with some weird Aloha! Hawiian theme. You wear orange inside Assembly Hall, people. Come on. Whatever the band's attire, the Illini won. It wasn't pretty, but at least a few of the dunks were beautiful.

Alright, I'm off to read. I'm reading this great book by John Piper, "God is the Gospel." It's helping me toward a whole new perspective toward the Gospel and glorifying God in missions. It's amazing how innately self-centered we are, even in our worship of and relationship with God. But more on that some other time...

Done and done.

It's official. I've hit a wall. A big, huge, ginormous wall.

I'm believing the lies that God won't bring in my support, that I'm kidding myself if I think He'd actually use me to spread his Good News, that not going is punishment for something I've done or failed to do.

*sigh*

I'm not up for this battle. I'm tired. I'm sick. I simply don't have enough faith.

Lies, lies, lies...

Raising support is SO HARD.

Who killed Zahra?

I haven't left my bed yet this morning. I pulled my puppy and my laptop in with me a couple hours ago, and since then I've been glued to NYTimes.com. I decided today I'm going to work a lot harder at learning a lot more about Sudan, and I started at CNN, which led me to a NYT columnist named Nicholas Kristof, who's been covering the genocide in Darfar since 2003.

Here's an interview with CNN's Cooper. (Click on the "Horror in Sudan" link at the bottom of the rail on the right side.) It's from December, but (unfortunately) it's still the situation. Kristof did his own report, as well. Even more info. Check it out.

I have a meeting now, but maybe I'll blog my reaction to this later...

I'm so flash.

I realized on my way home from work this morning that I could very easily devote an entire blog -- as in, not just one entry -- to what certain food it is that I'm craving each day.

FYI: Right now, I really want Pita Pit.

In other, perhaps more interesting news, I applied for my passport today. (I guess this is a good thing to have, considering the aforementioned airline reservation.) As soon as that comes through, I'll get to working on my Kenya visa, then finally my Sudan visa. It all seems a little crazy. But, really, it all still seems really far off, so I'll spare you the ramblings about how excited I am.

Did I mention I've been in contact with more of my teammates? Well, I have. I already know Kim from the States. She's a lot like me in that she wants to know everything right now and is really stoked. 'sreallyexcited. And Jen, who's down-to-earth and a nurse and loves the Red Sox. But now there's Cath from South Africa. She's 29, has been doing the missions thing for a while and seems cool. There's Craig from Australia. He's 21, a runner and "sport" addict and seems "flash."

I'm also learning new vocabulary as my foreign team members write their emails. Like how you like "sport" -- singular? -- as opposed to "sports." And this "flash" business just boggles me. I'm not sure of the usage, but I do know that Craig is "not so flash at basketball." Clearly, I'm going to try to incorporate these new words into my vocabulary as much as possible. I may even use an Aussie accent. I bet that'll be "flash" of me. (I hope you're laughing, Craig.)

I need to get hopping on my support raising. I'm being a baby about it. *sigh*

Alright, I think that's all I've got. Just another lame update.

But, wow, don't cucumbers sound SO good right now??

And we have liftoff!

Well, maybe not exactly. But I did get my plane ticket today and that's UBER exciting. It's like I'm really going. The real deal. My seat is waiting for me.

Now all God has to do is bring in the support and make all the arrangements.

20% for both monthly and outgoing! Only 80% more to go! :)

And, wow, I have a plane ticket...

(I don't write headlines after work.)

So it's been a while since I've put up a semi-intelligent post.

And it will remain that way, as it's 6:15 and I just got back from work... and have had about 3 1/2 hours of sleep in the last (...doing the math...) 40 or so hours.

It seems I've survived another hectic NFL preview week at the paper coupled with support raising stuff. I put my last intense two-page spread to bed this morning, after I was able to speak at Bethel Lutheran in Ottawa last night.

Let me tell you -- this was a really cool church. I mean, I went in there tired and frazzled, but left somehow refreshed and optimistic about my long night ahead. The people were just uber nice and uber welcoming. They even fed me and gave me hugs! Not going to lie... I kind of didn't want to leave. ;) The people were a great blessing to me, and I pray that I'll be able to return that favor with my stories from the field.

And here's something interesting. I met a 81-year-old woman tonight. You would never have guessed it to look at her or talk to her. She was just so sweet and friendly and... I don't know, something.

Conclusion: Maybe life doesn't end at 23. Maybe.

OH, I haven't mentioned on here yet something really exciting. I heard from another one of my teammates! Even better, it was in an email she sent to the entire team. She just said a bit about herself and asked for others to introduce themselves. I'm hoping they do soon -- I'm so eager to get to know them! Her name was Cath. She's 29 and from South Africa. Pray for her, if you will!

Alright, I'm done. Some paperwork is calling my name... then it's bedtime. (Jubilee.)

going with the flow

"Its funny how you act like you go with the flow but I bet you have a list somewhere that says 'go with the flow' on it, and now you can cross it off."

My friend Joy, when I said I was just "going with the flow" on our weekend plans. Sometimes your friends know you all too well. (But, seriously, there isn't a list, per se, and it certainly doesn't have "go with the flow" on it. Other things, maybe. But "go with the flow"? No.)

Good thing God's got this whole thing -- and every other thing -- planned out already.

Omar al-Bashir

You know you're going to a special place when its leader is FAMOUS.

Of course, I'd rather Sudan's Omar al-Bashir were famous for things other than heading a campaign to kill hundreds of thousands of civilians in a jihad.

Lots of people (especially those who aren't fans of my Sudan plans) have directed me to Parade's article about the 10 worst dictators in the world. Bashir tops the list... for the second year in a row.

Super.

I know it seems I'm making light of all this -- and maybe I am -- but there's nothing much else I can do. I mean, God has me going to Sudan. And I'm certainly not trying to make light of the human tragedy in Sudan -- oh, no, no, no, not at all. It's absolute horror. But shouldn't this just increase my urgency to get over there? And while I struggle with bringing it home, making the things that are going on in Sudan real to me, I know (Lord willing) I'll be there in six months, and I won't be able to NOT see the horrible reality of it all.

I can only imagine how I'll struggle, seeing this guy escape condemnation for his horrific acts, in light of how I react in a situation so (relatively) trivial as the one I have here -- a sports editor not being held accountable for the things he does and does not do.

Funny how things can come into perspective.

Here's the article. Enjoy.

Humble beginnings.

I just heard a loud whisper come from my parents' room.

"Go to bed!"

I'm sure I'll hit the hay soon, but I find myself scrambling, preparing for my presentation tomorrow at Trinity United in LaSalle. It's not even that I'm not ready -- I could talk off the cuff about Africa and be fine, because talking from the heart is never hard -- but I always find myself trying to wrap up all the tiny details. Someday, I pray, I'll be able to give those details up to the One who can manage them all.

If you can, pray for my talking with the people at the church. I'm praying for two families to join my team. God's really laid on my heart that all I can do is go in there, tell Him the story He's written in my life and humbly ask for their help as God takes me to Sudan.

So, praise Him for that amount of peace. And praise Him for the opportunity to share with them. Aaaaand, praise Him the football playoffs don't start until long enough after the service that people won't be too distracted and wanting to get out of there. :)

Of course, "people" includes this girl, too. ;)

Thanks for keeping tabs on me. Drop me an email some time -- I'd love to hear from you.

amc
aclinard@gmail.com

And we're off...

Well, I just put up my Web site about my trip to Sudan, and it's got links to this here blog, so I suppose that means I have to get back on the bloggin' wagon.. and not just ramble on and on about the finer points of sports.

It's a little after 6 a.m. right now and I just got home from work -- an early night, sort of! -- so I'm way too tuckered out to really tackle a nice blog about all things Africa.

I will say things are rough right now. Just rough all over. I'm working long hours, sleeping at weird times and trying to cram way too much into each and every day. But God is so good, and He's blessing me even through the trials of support raising (and ohhhh boy are there trials!) and trying to love people at work I really don't like being around. I've felt like I've been at that "something's gotta go" point for weeks now, but -- by God's grace -- I've never quite got there. He's blessed me with discipline and generally good health.

I'm meeting some really cool people as I'm trying to build my support team, so that's sweet. I'm encouraged by what God is doing and what He's showing me. This, and I haven't even left the country yet!

I long for more time in the Word with Him, just being still and letting Him be God. I guess that would be my biggest prayer request.

I'm reading "God is the Gospel" by John Piper -- I heart Piper -- and it's great. In fact, I'm going to get on reading that now.

amc

not a post

if it's not entirely obvious, i'm not really doing this whole blog thing anymore...

the fact that my posts were no longer clever upset me so much i couldn't stand to go on.

things on my mind:

• marcus vick -- what the heck is this guy thinking? who brings a gun to mcdonalds? and, futhermore, who brings a gun to mcdonalds just days after being charged with robbery?
• and, which was worse -- the vick stomping incident (so wrong) or the taylor/pittman spitting fiasco (so gross)? i think both are fine compliments to the game. (sarcasm.)
• the rose bowl -- wow. just wow. did you know the young but-wait-wasn't-his-knee-down touchdown wasn't reviewed because the replay monitors were malfunctioning? take that, pro-replay people -- that was God smiting you. i'm almost sure of it.
• pete rose -- how has his eligibility for the hall run out when he's never been eligible? and sutter in the hall, what a relief. but cubs or cards?
• and how screwed up is voting for the hall anyway? what guy who has covered an AL team for his entire career really has the credentials to decide whether an NL player should make the cut?
• who skis when they're wasted? and, moreover, who admits it on national television? come on, miller. U-S-A. U-S-A.
• in case you've missed the soundbites flying all over talk radio, the NFL is all about commitment. and herm edwards is all about commitment. (and the chiefs, apparently. what contract extention?)
• could someone beat duke soon? jj reddick makes me want to barf.
• also warranting barf: the illini game against iowa. apparently, we brought our high school squad. the other players were still at kam's, celebrating the spectacular win over MSU (which dropped trou' again thursday).
• i no longer chuckle when the pats are refered to as the champs or defending their title or a team going for their third-straight super bowl. i'm not happy about it, but they've managed to win back respect. that was, until the beautiful tom brady played the no-respect card. gag me.
• i didn't know dan patrick was a jerk. i wish jt wouldn't have told me.

alright, i'm done. this wasn't a post. it was more the result of listening to ridiculous amounts of talk radio all week.

the dark continent

Tonight I smirked as I got into my warm car, giddy as if I'd beat some system just because I'd warmed it up while I was inside the newsroom putting the finishing touches on my pages. The cold does weird things to your head.

I've been working on a book lately called Emma's War. It's the story of a humanitarian aid worker who went to Sudan. She was more of an adventure seeker, I guess, but a lot of aid workers are. She eventually married a rebel SPLA leader. Then she was killed. Clearly I'm lacking important details on that part. But only because I'm not there yet. And that's not even my point. :) I've taken a couple things from the book so far. First, it's given me some more background about Sudanese history -- the history of the slave trade, Islamic rule, British colonialism, etc. It's all very complex, very deep, very... human. I guess I'm hoping to not only gain knowledge about Sudan, but perspective. The author talks a lot about how Africa can just seep into people's hearts, that they never want to stray too far. I hope that happens to me, that God places -- well, continues to place -- a love in my heart for Africa and Sudan.

As I've been reading more about the famines, the mass killings, the children sold into slavery, I find my heart and my mind more and more burdened by what I'm going to do for these people. What can I bring them, feed them? I think physical needs. And I want to know details about my trip. Are we going to build wells? Show them better ag methods? Teach the children? I have to force myself back to the bare reality: As deep as these people's physical needs are, their spiritual needs are far deeper -- even more urgent. And that's just hard to swallow sometimes. But I know it is true. As it is written...

One thing I know I've slacked off on preparing for is the spiritual warfare that I'll undoubtedly be facing. I blew through those two books and have put it aside since then. If you will, continue to pray that God would prepare my mind and my heart, the hearts and minds of my teammates and the hearts and minds of the people in Lopit. I cannot let the Devil have his way -- I will not forget how very real, how very present he is, here and in Africa. Pray I do not neglect to recognize life for what is it -- a battle.

Here's to you.

So, Lisa and I went to the Rascal Flatts concert Saturday and sat fourth row. That is, until they told everyone to do whatever they wanted and we found ourselves right at the stage -- close enough to snag a couple guitar picks, a drumstick, some star-to-fan contact and some great pictures. Now, neither Lees nor I is the go-crazy type, but we certainly did our share of crazy things. Call it the mob influence... or a couple of country gals just having a swell time.

Oh, and we also came away with some concert injuries. Lisa's was way worse/cooler because it involved a rabbid fan's fingernails and blood. She's my hero. I only took an elbow to the eye and have nothing to show for it. However -- and this is strange -- I've discovered a painful bruise just below my ribs that I'm sure I got at the concert, but not sure how I got at the concert. Mark it up as a Rascal Flatts mystery.

This (totally cool and awesome and great) picture is from our pre-concert Pizza Hut adventure. It makes me smile because a) we're wearing cowboy hats (and boots, though you can't see them), b) we're wearing cowboy hats (and boots, though you can't see them) at Pizza Hut, and c) we're wearing cowboy hats (and boots, though you can't see them) at Pizza Hut after having paid only $4.65 for one of the most delicious meals ever.

Oh, and Lisa taught me how to knit. I'm the Michael Jordan of knitting. Awesome.

Aaaaaand I got to go with my parents, brother, sister-in-law, neice and nephew to the Illini game in Chicago earlier that day. Allie was so stinkin' adorable. She danced, she cheered ("Go I-ny-ny!"), she entertained the surrounding sections. She was a doll. She was the only good part about the first half of the ballgame.


Alright, I'm done. I've got so much to blog about -- so much going on in my mind about Africa -- but absolutely no time.

1994. This is a Sudanese child crawling to the UN rations tent. A photographer, Kevin Carter, won a Pulitzer for it. He left soon after and no one knows what happened to the kid, but I'm sure you (and the vultur) have a good idea. Carter committed suicide three months later from depression.

On politics

For whatever reason, I was thinking today about how I don't really "do" the political thing.

But then I realized, in Sudan, you can't really not "do" the political thing. The enemy has a stronghold in Islam, and it's dripping with politics. It is politics in Sudan. And, in that, Christianity is injected with politics. I'm being "political" by being Christian. Being anything but Muslim pisses off the government. I can't be lazy and ignore everything with the government, because that could be trouble.

I dunno, random thought.

Dipping sauce... and other American wonders

I figure I should pick back up this blogging thing. I've got supporters and stalkers keeping tabs on me.

Working with my mother not only makes me vulnerable to embarrassing newsroom moments, but also to intra-office conspiracies. Or maybe I just have a complex. Either way, last night I had a co-worker plop down next to me when we went out and begin to tell me how horrible of a place Sudan is and how I shouldn't go if someone else is making me.

Apparently, I'm not the only one with a conspiracy complex, as many people seem to think I'm being forced to go to Sudan. Rest easy, friends: this is not the case.

I'm not sure why I haven't been taking advantage of those great moments to explain to people that it's not other people making me go and it's not a vacation I'm looking for, and it is the situation there that makes it all the more important I go. Pray that I do open my mouth and speak of Him, as I should.

Back to this guy. He was asking me where exactly I'll be ("Lopit," I say, which translates to "I have no clue") and saying I should check out this book, The World's Most Dangerous Places. Sudan made the list. (Yahoo!) All this to say, I went to the library today to check it out and, while I couldn't find it, I did happen upon another book about three Lost Boys from Sudan.

The Lost Boys are thousands of young (I'm talking 4-, 5-, 6-years-old) kids who were forced from their families and villages by Muslim extremists. It was 1983 and the North had declared shari'a law. However, many of the tribesmen rejected Islam. In this particular case, it wasn't necessarily because they were Christians -- more because of the inconvenience of the five-a-day prayers for a people who relied on raising and herding cows to survive and because of the brutality of female castration. The army set fire to whole villages thought to be sympathetic to the Sudanese Liberation Army, weidling guns that many of these people had never see before and "pouring fire from the sky" from airplanes and helicopters. They burned whole families alive in their huts, raped women and young girls and killed the older men. One of the boys tells about finding his friend's family charred in their hut and a girl who walked with a terrible limp because a soldier had tied her hands to a tree, raped her and broke many of her bones in the process. Many of the boys ran into the bush and spend the next months on a terrible journey across a dessert and dangerous land -- thirsty, starving, covered with lice and flies and prey to wild animals and horrible disease. They walked to refugee camps in Ethiopia -- can you imagine escaping TO Ethiopia? -- which weren't much better.

I'm yet to finish the book, but I'll probably go back and read more tomorrow. I know I need to know more about what has really happened in Sudan and what kind of scars these people are dealing with. Also, it was neat to get the cultural perspective. The three boys eventually came to the states -- where they later compiled their stories into this book -- and the beginning of the book is a narrative from a woman who became their mentor. It was funny to hear about how new and different everything was to them and how they embraced it all, tried everything. I laughed as she told about their first dinner -- chicken strips. The boys were entranced by the different dipping sauces. They were also warned before their left that American women were often single and wanting husbands, so they needed to watch out for one of these desperate women kidnapping them and threatening them with knifes and other horrible things. I wonder what understandings I have in my head about Africa that will be uprooted as nonsense once I get there. It reminds me that I have to step away from all of my cultural reference points and somehow be able to break down barriers and build relationships with these people. Praise God that He'll help my team in this!

This was long, but whatever. I hope to erase all the other ones soon and start afresh.

"The cars stand like cattle in a cattle camp." -- Benson, a Lost Boy (then grown to 20), making an observation about San Diego traffic and parking

Perspectives

I realized today that I'm so used to being around college students or people in transition that I get thrown off when I talk to someone who isn't going somewhere, who is fine with where they're at.

It's always, "What's next? So what now?" with me.

I'm not used to people being in one place... maybe that's because I rarely stop moving. I can't wait for the day when I can say, "I really can't think of something I want to do more."

I wonder where that will be. In Africa? On staff with Cru somewhere? Just being a mom?