Update from the Road

Oct 6, 2010 | South Africa, Stories

Whoo-hoo, lads and lassies! We made it safely to Jeffrey’s Bay, much thanks to Bokkie, our dear friends’ dear Land Rover — the one that made the trek from Edinburgh, Scotland to Cape Town, South Africa. Seriously people, they drove home from Scotland! I figure if this Landy has made it that far, what’s another 630 kms in a day? {Pictures of the Bear in the Bokkie forthcoming.}

And by the way, when I said it was a six hour trip yesterday, I meant nine. I must’ve been looking at the number upside down in my head. Ahem.


Anyway, our feature on SA Good News ended up being a great start for some local publicity! (Yay for friendship and writing your own press releases!) HH got a phone call from SABC3 and they want to do a wee feature of Samaritan’s Feet South Africa on their early, early and I do mean early, show. I think it’s called Breakfast Espresso or Morning Espresso or something. Someone’s gonna have to record it for me — not because I wouldn’t get up that early, but because we don’t have our TV hooked up to cable. It’s hooked up for Veggie Tales and Blue’s Clues (and occasionally Wonder Pets) and that’s about it.

So we’ve organised a last minute little shoe distribution with our amazing partners in Cape Town, Living Hope, {seriously, they’re awesome, check them out!} so that SABC3 will have some good footage for their story AND some more kids will be blessed with a message of hope, a clean pair of feet and a new pair of shoes! It should be a wonderful lil’ event Thursday morning, so if you’re in the Cape Town area and keen to volunteer, let me know! {Ahem, we could use you!}

All this means if there was any chance we could stay an extra day in JBay (and rent a surfboard!?!) that is out the window — we are going to head back to Gordon’s Bay bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning. Translation: our poor baby Bear is getting chucked back into his car seat again before he knows what’s hit him! Bless him!

I think HH is finally here with a little dinner, (it’s 9pm and I’m pregnant!!) so I’m gonna scoot, but I was excited to share the news! You’re excited to hear it, right??

xCC

Thankful on a Travelling Tuesday

Sep 28, 2010 | An Expat, Stories

Well guys and gals, my calendar’s not broken and I know it’s Tuesday. I even remember that last week I promised the second half of the stories and photos from Amakhala Game Reserve. And that’s saying something because last Tuesday was a long time ago.

But a visit to Chatting at the Sky yesterday reminded me about the second string of posts I sometimes engage in on Tuesdays, where I’m thankful for things like the opportunity to put shoes on bare feet or that I can have a good cup of coffee. Chatting at the Sky will be taking a break from Tuesdays Unwrapped for a few weeks for a special month of posts about grace, and that made me want to join in a little more this week. And then I suddenly realised I was struggling to be thankful. And then I realised that was all the more reason to find thankfulness today. And do some travelling next week, if that’s okay with you.

Let me back up a little to give you a slice of life right. this. very. instant. See, Hero Hubs and I have an awesome team of individuals, churches and organisations who partner with us on a regular basis to make our work in South Africa possible. Some people give each month or quarter, others each year, and still others surprise us and give whenever they feel led to. All three of these categories rock, and are a blessing, so don’t ask me to pick a favourite. I just can’t!

It is a privilege to be able to minister because of these awesome people. It also sometimes means we have no idea whatsoever what our paycheck might look like at any given time. It can also means figuring out your monthly budget and whether or not you’re sticking to it, is a bit of a … challenge. We have indeed found it to be a life of faith.

So. After his return from Zimbabwe, Hero Hubs began tallying up our ins and outs based on our most recent giving report, and at present, only one thing seems clear. We don’t have all of the finances we need to go home for Christmas. Bettter put, we’re not exactly close. My Dad and my brother have offered to help and my Mom already has, but the amount we’re lacking seems like a lot to ask for. We have tickets reserved with a Missionary Travel Agency which we need to pay for by October 5th.

And right now, I am just not sure of the hows or the ifs of all this.

But here’s what I do know for sure. God is good, and His way is perfect. Psalm 84:11 promises, “No good thing will He withhold from those who walk uprightly.” And while we sure are far from perfect, I am still confident in His grace, and trust that He has a plan for all this.

And while I wait to see it unfold, I’m going to give thanks. For the God who hears my prayers and knows my heart. For the God who saw this coming long before we were busy scrutinizing our magic Excel spreadsheet and asking Uh, what had happened? And for the God who has a good plan, even if I don’t know what it is yet.

Thank you, Lord.

xCC

It’s My Birthday…Send Shoes!

Sep 18, 2010 | South Africa, Stories

Hey guys and gals! Do you know what day it is? Do you want me to tell you? It’s my birthday! Whoo-hoo! I’ve decided that as a special birthday blog post, I’m going to retell my birth story in its entirety, start to finish. I was there and I remember every detail! haha It actually only took about seven minutes and isn’t interesting enough to tell. Well, it is pretty good. Maybe another day.

But, being my birthday, this does mean the picture I add to this post gets to be one that I really like of myself, even if it’s a year old or something.

Now that that’s out of the way, I just wanted to share an idea of a birthday gift, if you wanted to be so thoughtful as to do something special on this special day. It’s easy-peasy and doesn’t involve shipping anything to South Africa, which is a good thing because unless you tell customs you’re sending me socks and tampons, your gift may not make it to my doorstep anyway.*

So. As you have probably already heard, Samaritan’s Feet South Africa (that little ol’ charity Hero Hubs and I are busy birthing down here in the southern hemisphere) is being featured as the We Are THAT Family Back to School Do It For Others Project. Which rocks. And better explained means that a wonderful gal out in Texas is collecting shoes that will be sent right on down here to us…and then we’ll be able to bless kids in these parts with a clean pair of feet, a message of hope and a new pair of shoes! It’s as easy as hitting walmart.com, or another fine retailer, picking out a pair of shoes and having them shipped to the Texan P.O. Box!

Kristen has lots more details over at We Are THAT Family, so click over to read more.

Alternatively, if you’re not in the shoe-shopping mood and just want to make a donation to Samaritan’s Feet South Africa, which will help the shoes get here and/or help us get more, you can do so right here!

*If you really want to send me something, chocolate chips, flour tortillas, Jiffy cornbread mix and Bisquick will do just fine. Well, could you throw in a dozen chocolate-covered, crème filled from Krispy Kreme, too?

Now I must get back to enjoying my birthday with Hero Hubs. He leaves tomorrow for a short trip to Zimbabwe. The Bear and I will be flying solo (even though there’s two of us…um…) for the next few days. Feel free to lift that one up!

x {the new and improved, but still in her 20s} CC

Please Don’t Kill Your Horse

Sep 13, 2010 | Stories, The Good Word

Our pastor shared from experience last Sunday about the very taxing mistake of not taking care of yourself. It reminded me of some thoughts I’d been meaning to share with you guys for a while now, because I think they are important and if I don’t say them to you, I’m not sure who will!

The lesson began for me several months ago when I was deep in Skype conversation with an adorably sweet young lady back home who loves, loves, loves Jesus. Let’s call her Emily. Emily was in a bit of a tough situation because her health had suddenly taken a turn for the worse. She had developed a very debilitating health condition that was hindering her ability to function normally. And while the doctors weren’t sure whether it was genetic, stress-related, or just some strange thing that showed up on her doorstep, an hour into our conversation, I was beginning to draw my own conclusions. (Which have nothing to do with having half a PhD, mind you.)

It was clear that Emily was stressed. She’d mentioned several of her commitments here and there, and it seemed plausible that she was struggling under the weight of them all. I began to ask more questions about those commitments, and there were so many I had to start writing them out on my laptop just to get a reasonable idea of everything. Let me give you an idea of the breakdown.

Emily was a senior at university, and with her particularly time-intensive area of study, she basically had classroom or practical commitments from 7 am to 5 pm every day. She was committed to two Bible studies each week, one on Mondays, which she had the responsibility of leading, and another on Fridays, which she simply attended. She attended the college student ministry on Thurdsay evenings and had a church-related babysitting commitment on Sunday afternoons. In addition to the classroom-based work she was doing she had an additional three hours of online study for which she was responsible. Another ministry had just started up in the downtown area, and the leaders were asking her to be more involved. She usually attended the downtown ministry’s evening meetings at least two out of three nights a week and sometimes had responsibilities in the meetings.

I think you’re starting to get the idea, even though I’m not sure I remembered everything on the list. Emily had said so many “yes’es” that she had no time for herself. She didn’t even have time to get homework done. She hardly ever cooked for herself, and she never got to bed before midnight. Then she got up around 5 am the next morning to start the routine of craziness all over again.

While I know this is a bit of an extreme case, the lesson in Emily’s story, that was also a part of the pastor’s this Sunday, is that if you don’t make sure you’re taking care of yourself, no one else will. It is not necessarily a matter of ill intentions, it is just a fact of life that people will take what you’re willing to give. As Proverbs 30:15 wisely puts it, “The leech has two daughters: give and give!” While this is a play on words for the fact that a leech has two suckers which it attaches to its host, it also makes the point of saying that many things in life will take, take, and take until they are satisfied. And since you’re not likely to please ‘em all, they are never going to be satisfied.

The problem is that we often believe the lie that we are being selfish when we take time to attend to our own needs. You might feel guilty for saying “No” to a request because you feel like it’s going to put too much on your plate, so you say yes, even though you shouldn’t. You might feel selfish for making exercise a priority, or for taking an extra fifteen minutes in the morning to choose an outfit and some accessories so that you feel presentable to start your day.

And all these thoughts bring me back to that simple and elusive word: balance. Because somewhere in between gyming so much you don’t care about anything else, grooming so little that people are grossed out, and saying yes to every request that comes your way, there is balance. It’s this place where you are following the leading of Jesus which could have you out on a limb in a foreign country, or pouring soup in a kitchen in a rough neighborhood…but it’s also a place where you are getting a reasonable amount of rest, being careful about what you’re eating, and making exercise a part of your lifestyle.

He makes us lie down in green pastures, ya know?

It’s sometimes a place where you need to take those extra ten minutes to get ready in the morning, and it’s less about vanity and more about sanity. Because completely neglecting yourself to only always ever attend to others will not get you very far for very long.

Robert Murray M’Cheyne, a fiery Scotsman who I am rather fond of, was also mentioned Sunday. (And I’m not just fond of him because we both went to the Univeristy of Edinburgh or because of his great reading plan I’ve already told you about.) A pastor, poet, evangelist and “lover of souls,” his sermons are incredibly profound, and you might read a few (please do) and then be overwhelmed to realise how old he was when he penned them. At the age of 29, his health was failing. Just before his death, he said,

“God gave me a message to deliver and a horse to ride.  I have killed the horse and now cannot deliver the message.”

Hear, oh, people-pleasing folk who are too much like me: You are no good to anybody if you’re not taking care of yourself. In light of the leading and wisdom of God’s Word, and with the guidance of His Holy Spirit, think about your priorities and your schedule and see to it that you don’t kill your horse!

xCC

It’s Nice to be Seen and Heard

Sep 10, 2010 | Stories, The Good Word

The “coincidences” just continue. And I keep thinking just one of you might be coming around here, still wondering if I’m making things up, or if I’m slightly delusional, or if I am just calling the daffodil of coincidence a rose by another name. Or something like that. My plan is to just keep telling stories, and keep hoping you’ll believe me sooner or later.

So last month, our paycheck was seriously less than what we usually receive on a monthly basis. Translation: it wasn’t enough to pay our outgoings. It was kind of a, hmm…food or rent? moment. I think I responded by weakly saying “The Lord’s gonna provide” and deciding I just didn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with worrying about it at that moment. But before I’d even had a chance to pray a prayer or lose myself in worry and concern, an email from my Mom was in my inbox.

She was just two weeks from departure for her trip to visit us here. And she just up and decided (and by that I would like to point to the work of the Holy Spirit) that she would share with her Sunday School class and ask if they would like to make a contribution to our ministry, since we’d just moved into an unfurnished place and were trusting for the rest of the funds for flights home, etc. They decided to give $100, and some folks who arrived late and didn’t hear the story were so concerned afterwards they brought by another $50. And then her Ladies’ Circle group decided to give $200. And then the Men’s Fellowship. And another Sunday school class. And by the end of this particular adventure in networking my Mom had an extra $700 for us, which she promptly deposited in our bank account.

I’d never asked her … she didn’t know about our shortfall … it just happened. And the fact that this was the particular moment when she decided to do it, was just a little too coincidental for me to point to coincidence if you get my drift. My heart was warmed with the reminder: “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

All these goings on for some reason made me think of Hagar. No, no, not Sammy Hagar, the Hagar in the Bible who gave birth to Ishmael with Abraham before Sarai gave birth to Isaac. Hagar ran away because Sarai treated her harshly when she became pregnant. It was a pretty messed up situation, honestly. And, don’t worry, we ain’t having any drama like that around here.

But she runs off into the wilderness, alone and distraught, and the Angel of the Lord shows up, tells her what to do, and encourages her with a promise. Then, “she called the name of the Lord who spoke to her, You-Are-the-God-Who-Sees; for she said, ‘Have I also here seen Him who sees me?’” (Gen. 16:13)

And though Hagar’s troubles were really just beginning at that point, that encounter with God was a sign — a moment she could look back on in the days ahead. Though she was Egyptian, a maidservant, set aside, and not of ‘the chosen people of Promise,’ God demonstrated that He sees. He cares. And He shows up when we need Him the most.

Have you ever felt like Hagar? Maybe like you were forgotten or set aside, while it seemed like everyone around you was experiencing the presence and promises of God? The good news is the-God-Who-Sees can see your troubles just as well as He-Sees mine. If you love Him and you walk with Him, you can trust that He-Who-Sees-You will work things out for your own good.

The Sermon in a Nutshell: He-Sees me, He-Sees you. He knew about it before you did. And, coincidentally, I find that a very encouraging thought.

xCC

My Man Without a Country

Sep 6, 2010 | An Expat, South Africa, Stories

Hero Hubs was away from Mama Africa for close to twelve years before we settled down here in the Cape exactly a year ago today. While I’ve worked through occasional bouts of culture shock, it has been interesting to simultaneously observe many instances of re-entry shock for him. He has returned to the country he left, but a lot of things are not the same.

While my Mom was here visiting, we went up the coast and were near a place called Kei Mouth (that K-word rhymes with “eye”). HH’s family used to have a holiday home in Kei, and he has fond memories of family vacations there. Since we were close by, we decided to drive to Kei one afternoon to see what things were like after so many years.

The Collie family sold the holiday home close to twenty years ago and it has since fallen into disrepair. The Bear was asleep in the car, and while my Mom waited with him, I slipped out to be a witness to the experience I expected to unfold. Broken windows, cobwebs and weeds greeted us as we drew near.

It was almost as if I could see HH’s heart sink as he looked at the home.

We peered through the windows and he began to speak.

This was the living room…we used to play spades on the floor right there. And there’s a rock on the fireplace. We used to pick up rocks on the beach and carry them up here and sit them on the mantle above the fireplace. I bet that’s one of them.

My sister’s room was just down there… and look, the tiling is still the same in my parent’s bedroom. That tiling is from twenty years ago.

Dad used to sit his toolbox right there by the fireplace.

Mom had a beautiful garden here…and there was a fence just here separating the front and back yards.

My brother and I walked down that path right there to get to the beach. See?

There’s the old outdoor shower…

All this overgrowth wasn’t here…there was a beautiful view of the ocean from here before.

I looked and listened through tears.

With a few tears of his own, memories of a gentle and sweet season of life were pouring out of HH. I seldom have the opportunity to witness these things, having never visited his birthplace and only occasionally spending time in what he considers his hometown. It was special and meaningful and very painful at the same time.

We took our time to walk around the place. We climbed a ledge and peered into what was once a busy scullery which led into an inviting kitchen. I tried to imagine what things had been like but struggled to create pictures in my mind. We saw evidence that the house had been occasionally occupied by drifters and we read a notice that it was set to be demolished so that a number of apartments could be put up there, and on the adjacent property.

On our way back to the car, I gingerly stepped over low walls and tall weeds and asked HH if he would like to take a picture.

“These types of things are best kept as memories,” he said.

I agreed, but decided to take just one picture from the car window before we drove off. It seemed like this home represented a bit of what South Africa might feel like to a returning expat at the moment: things are not as they once were, but if you look hard enough, you can find hope for what’s ahead.

In those brief moments, my desire to understand, to think through and to write about my “man without a country” began.

It’s funny how sometimes the best way to hold on to something is by letting go. Trying to grasp at a past that isn’t there anymore is likely to taint the memories you’ll hold about it in the future. Finding the bravery to walk boldly into an unknown future instead of clinging to a long-gone past doesn’t seem like an easy task.

But as individuals, as communities, even as nations, I think that our paths to progress are paved by the ability to remember the past without romanticising it — to learn from what has happened without striving to re-live it.

As a famous warthog once said, “You gotta put your behind in the past.”

What does it mean to come back to the place you’re from and not feel like you belong anymore? Are you still South African if you return to your people and you don’t feel like one of them? As I continue to think things through, this story will continue on another day.

xCC