Repost....Directions

I was telling my husband the other day that with my recent posts (Old Town pics and our wine choices) that my blog looked like a "Wino Tour of Old Town" rather than a blog about mission work.


But, I don't find this inconsistent. After my last trip to Tanzania and before this last trip to South Africa, my prayer partner had put a challenge in my heart. She (not sure how intentional it was) had begun challenging me to think about working for God in other ways than just "in the field". Is a job at an NGO not still "mission" work she asked. Or rather, that is how I interpreted one of her questions. And, it was a good question.


During this last trip to South Africa, on the weekend when all the missionaries were to go to stay with host families, I found myself in South Africa drinking Pinotage and shopping at the mall. My host priest had become ill. While going up the escalator at the mall, I caught myself trying to figure out what God had in store for me. Shopping and drinking wine? Hmmmmmm.....


Well, I am open to finding out. So for now, probably more pictures of wine and Old Town than of African AIDS orphans. But, that is fine. My life is complex and that is, in my opinion, part of the journey.


Merry Christmas!

Directions

I was telling my husband the other day that with my recent posts (Old Town pics and our wine choices) that my blog looked like a "Wino Tour of Old Town" rather than a blog about mission work.

But, I don't find this inconsistent. After my last trip to Tanzania and before this last trip to South Africa, my prayer partner had put a challenge in my heart. She (not sure how intentional it was) had begun challenging me to think about working for God in other ways than just "in the field". Is a job at an NGO not still "mission" work she asked. Or rather, that is how I interpreted one of her questions. And, it was a good question.

During this last trip to South Africa, on the weekend when all the missionaries were to go to stay with host families, I found myself in South Africa drinking Pinotage and shopping at the mall. My host priest had become ill. While going up the escalator at the mall, I caught myself trying to figure out what God had in store for me. Shopping and drinking wine? Hmmmmmm.....

Well, I am open to finding out. So for now, probably more pictures of wine and Old Town than of African AIDS orphans. But, that is fine. My life is complex and that is, in my opinion, part of the journey.

Merry Christmas!

Enjoying the journey

I woke up this morning thinking about the space we inhabit and where we decide to place ourselves. Being blessed with a wonderful husband, I feel loved, safe, and completely comfortable in our home. Our “perfect puppy” demands my attention and allows me to hug and love on him to my heart’s content – though sometimes insisting my hand be used for petting and not typing.

And, I love Old Town. I love our neighbors and I deeply love our church.

Yet, somehow I managed to leave half my heart in Africa.

One of my acquaintances has challenged me as to why Africa. Why not Brazil? Or India? Had I forgotten about Tibet? And, other than the simplistic, truthful answer of it is where God has called me, I have no intellectual answer.

I do know I am relishing in, loving and so excited about the journey….the destination will take care of itself. God will get me there and in the process, I am enjoying each step of the way.

The Beginning

Last summer I had the wonderful opportunity to accompany my husband on a business trip to South Africa. The short version of the story is that I assumed I’d go, see some interesting animals, take some pictures and come home. Resuming my life as it had been before.

That was not God’s plan.

The moment I believe my heart was broken and I began to hear God’s call was seeing the little boy – maybe 6, maybe older – malnutrition does a number on your height – standing on the street corner. He had cut off the tops of his shoes to give his feet more room. He wasn’t begging. He wasn’t crying in pain. But his image encapsulates in my mind the moment God clearly called me to mission.

Back in my office in Old Town Alexandria, by the umpteenth day that I sat crying, I realized I either had to get over it or do something. Not sure what to do, I turned to our assistant rector. She was so wonderful and understanding. I cried so much to her that I hope she went out and bought Kleenex stock.

Thankfully, she put me in touch with the diocese and from there I was able to being this journey through mission. She also guided me through a discernment process which helped clarify if I was truly being called. And if I was being called, to what or to where was the calling.

I won’t write the thousand and one things that have brought me to this moment. Nor do I believe anyone would want to read them. Rather, this is the where I am in the journey. I am now blessed to be going to Tanzania with the person I call my “mission mentor”. I feel called to take this journey for many reasons, two of which are the spiritual growth I need and the ability to work under an awesome missionary.

I still believe my calling is to South Africa. But I also believe that I must make that journey through this trip to Tanzania.

I am afraid. I am hopeful. And I am mostly so thankful for the opportunities and blessings that are ahead.