hoping big

It never stops shocking me senseless, how grace appears in the most outlandish packages. One would think that after knowing God for a while, I'd be used to it by now. Used to the trapdoor, behind the curtain, viola methods of the Creator, and jaded into ho-hum boredom at His antics - and yet...I am finally accepting this once and for all (until next time)(no, I mean it): I just can't know how something is going to work out flawlessly when I step out in faith, until grace shows up and saves the day. Again. Afresh. Like its never happened before. Exactly like last time.

I just had one of those crazy wild experiences of an event going beautifully, when what I expected was an uphill battle. Why am I surprised? Why do I feel like such an idiot for being this shocked that God does what he says he will do? Every. Single. Time.

Yesterday I hosted a screening of the documentary film, As We Forgive, at a local theater. The planning began October 4, when I summoned the guts to ask some questions which were met with unexpected enthusiasm at the Wilton Town Hall Theatre. What began as a little crazy dream - to offer As We Forgive to a public audience and promote local P.E.A.C.E.- became a reality. The outcome was different than I imagined - which is kind of exactly what I expected :) (read that twice)

A small crowd gathered for the viewing Sunday Nov. 15th in a vintage theater quite a bit off the beaten path. Some friends and some strangers decided to come and see what all this talk of reconciliation in Rwanda is about. Afterward, we shared Rwandan coffee (mmm, so good, thanks to Land of A Thousand Hills Coffee), pictures and stories.

But what we really shared was hope, in many different shapes and sizes. My hope that someone would care that God is moving with sure-footed purpose in a war-torn nation of good hearted people. Hope in Rwanda is the same stuff we run on here in America. A stranger's hope that going to see some random documentary would be worthwhile on a Sunday afternoon. The hope of a smattering of local believers who carpooled and caravaned over from Bedford, Manchester, Londonderry, Pembroke, Chester and beyond, that showing up would lift their hearts and make a difference. And even the hope of a teenager I met that the coffee would be worth the trip.

Going forward, I have even more hope. I hope that this screening will lead to others, and that I will get more opportunities to speak locally for P.E.A.C.E. and raise funds for Rwanda 2010.

I also hope that something someone saw yesterday will change them forever. I'm done hoping small; I've seen too much goodness to glorify limiting faith that never makes a move. I'm hoping big.

personal peace

There is a vast possie of reasons why it is logical and reasonable for me to worry lately, and I went to bed with them last night. There are nights like that; we all have them, I'm pretty sure. Nights when the what if's and the what then's are shouting louder than the voices of peace. So I cried a bit, because that's what I do. I knew that a specific answer to "what am I going to do?" was probably not going to come to me in that state of exaustion. Then I asked for some peace, and my heart rate changed, my breathing slowed, and sleep came sweetly. I love to pray for things that God wants to give me: its a sure thing. I can count on God to give me peace when I ask for it; know why? It's one of his favorite prayers to hear. When Jesus was getting ready to leave his most trusted buddies, and he knew that they would really miss having him physically there to speak peace into their lives, he didn't leave them empty handed.

John 14:27 Peace I leave with you;my peace I give to you.

Not as the world gives do I give to you.

Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.

I think that PEACE probably wasn't what they wanted most, at the time. How about some actual blue prints for what your church in the world is going to look like? How about some good old tablets, like Moses got, with serious instructions for how to do life without you here?

Peace? Really?

It must matter. Peace must be essential, legitimate, and relevant. Like something you don't even know you need until you're positively out-of-your-mind-desperate for it.

What's so different about his kind of peace? The peace I can help myself to -in the form of relief, rest, laughter, a sit-com break from chaos - this peace is temporary. The peace of God outlasts my life, my problems, and my quick fixes. Real-deal peace is what Jesus leaves me with, and it is sourcing me for whatever comes next. I know it not just because I read it, but because its a truth speaking from the inside out of me now and I'm desperate for it.

This morning light, which hasn't appeared quite yet, is not going to give me the action steps which will propel me out of my wilderness (which is not much different than your wilderness, likely), but peace does make me more sure footed. A candle glow that is all I need to slip my toes forward.

training

Training is ultimately about willful change to our bodies and to who we are. - Marty Jerome, fitness writer and runner extraordinaire

I still love the monthly essays in my run journal, even though my running habit has suffered a hobbling blow of late. And the running metaphor, as it relates to spiritual life, is the best one ever, even still. Lately, I've been looking at racing with less ardour and more wistful longing, as if the idea of it is a memory. Whether you are avid or casual about it, a runner is only as good (to herself) as her last time out there. My last foot race was in 08, and I'm playing with the idea of doing another one sometime soon. Feel the sterling commitment in those words....

Once I was out for a little run recently and I started thinking about how Paul says that there are two ways to look at running a race: you either run to win it, or you run aimlessly.

I Cor 9:24 Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. 25Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. 26So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. 27But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.

I hear a little lesson on hypocrisy at the end, there. Do as I do, watch me be the real deal. See if it works. I wonder if Paul ever envisioned that most athletes would be more into being fit and strong and less into winning prizes by the 21st century? I've had a few sweet races. I did break 2 hours in a half marry, and once I came in 2nd in my age bracket for a local 5k. That's the best I will ever place, very likely. Chances are I'll never be that fast again. And yet I run, even when I don't win. I move to stay strong. When it comes to trusting God, I want to be in the winners circle.

That same word for crown, or wreath, from I Cor 9:25 also shows up in James 1:12:

12Blessed (happy,to be envied) is the man who is patient under trial and stands up under temptation, for when he has stood the test and been approved, he will receive [the victor's] crown of life which God has promised to those who love Him.

One thing I adore about the idea of crowns in the bible is the picture of the imperishable wreath, the laurel that the Greek runners earned, upon which we base our olympic prizes and the marathoner's crown. Not too many of us have crowns around here. But one day, those who love Him will be crowned. What will we do with our crowns - the ones that the bible says we'll deserve if we have loved God? We will hurl them gladly at the throne of God to magnify his glory. That will be a good day.

And so we run.

face time

So, for a while now it has been my goal to be the same person in every place; to stop putting on an identity which fits the role of the moment, and quit playing games. I got very tired of it, I was bad at it, and it never served its intended purpose anyhow: to make me feel like a legit member of a group when I felt like I didn't have the appropriate credentials. But, old habits die hard.

One of the things I miss most about being in Rwanda is that every day, since I had no idea what to expect (being in totally unfamiliar territory, both literally and socially), I didn't have to put on a face, or a hat, or a role, and there was no TIME, even if I'd wanted to. We knew the goals for the day, and the one's that materialized, and every one on our teams just rolled up our metaphorical sleeves daily and worked it out. There was no space for arranging your face so that you will look like you know what you are doing. In Rwanda, your face is your face. I absolutely loved it.

But here, it's a different story. At work, in relationships, and in service, I generally have time to figure out how I'm expected to behave. In the past, this required a measure of skill, because of all I had to lose. (Too honest for you?)

There's a great song by Switchfoot called This Is Your Life, and it goes like this:

This is your life, are you who you want to be?

This is your life, is it everything you dreamed that it would be when the world was younger and you had everything to lose.

What I love about that last line is it almost pokes fun at how much we had to lose when we were younger...because we thought that was so true. If I don't act the part, no one will like me. If they find out that I am X-Y-Z (whatever), then it's all over. Curtain falls. Now that we are older and wiser, we know that its never really over - when we are revealed. And living revealed lives is so much easier! Isn't it?

It actually is, but, for me, it means that I'm ok with this face. By face, I mean the identity I reveal. That's because I am bought and I am safe. In Christ, my forever face(my identity, my soul) is not just acceptable, well recieved, good to go. I am more than fine because I am in Christ.

What is left to fear?

(Just reminding myself.)

picture this

August 13th, I am sitting on the floor of a hospital in Kirinda, Rwanda, surrounded by laughing children who have no earthly reason for their joy, except that some random Muzungu (white people) showed up here today, out of nowhere. We’re playing with a rubber ball.

When I first became interested in letting myself be fascinated with global outreach, it was terrifying to me. I believe that God grabbed my heart while I was praying for the first team that went to Rwanda last summer. As I asked that God would guide them, strengthen them and protect them, my own worldview began to shift. I followed the invitation to begin reading the books on the resource list that they posted online at Manchester On The Move, and God led me gently into other books and other outrageous facts I’d somehow never seen before. I was kind of shocked that I felt a compulsion to care – and I was ashamed, because I have walked with God for over half my life. I never really wanted to change the world before, but that’s because I never really saw it laying in pieces at my feet.

At first, I really had to climb over my own shame at having never cared enough for God’s people in other places. It’s Not About Me became my new mantra, as God healed my self-centered sadness and forgave me again and again, until I trusted that my guilt was just a crutch I was having trouble laying down. But after that, it was obvious to me that I was going to be heading to Rwanda. I began to pray this simple prayer: Please let me see Your people with Your eyes.

One month ago today in Kirinda, we journeyed over to visit the local hospital and pray with the patients who would let us. They are patients or children of patients at a hospital which may be the best place they’ve ever lived, or it may be the last place. After about 4 hours of praying bed by bed, holy soul by holy soul, we were spent. Our team began to gather in a hallway in preparation for catching our van ride home to our guesthouse and perhaps a meal, but no one was hungry, and no one was really ready to go. We were all overwhelmed by what we had just experienced. Our minds had no answers. But LOVE acts. Some times its all that love can do.

I sat down on the floor and took out a rubber ball that I brought with me, hoping for a chance to play. I started just bouncing it to myself, and kids just started coming to watch me. Then I bounced it to one little boy, and his face became radiant. The more we played the more kids joined in, and the darkness fell, but the joyful squealing of fun grew louder and louder.

This memory I’ll hold for EVER is not about what we did for them. Why did God put me there? To give me His eyes for His people. I guess I was there to pray and to play! My heartbreak mixed with their hope. It was not ‘the Muzungu to the rescue’, and it may change nothing for those kids. But I was changed. God let me love in a new language, and His love is never ever wasted.

(as shared Vision Sunday, Manchester Christian Church, 9/13/09, edited by Stef Cassetto)

i'm back, i think, but it's 6:30pm in rwanda

My body is here but I feel very detached. Thanking God for safe flights, happy family, hot showers and ice in my coffee. My thoughts about the trip are random and disconnected, so bare with me. Probably will be for some time. Rwanda seems to do this to people. This photo was taken at the Bethsaida HIV/Aids cooperative where infected people create Rwandan baskets like the one I photo'd for the blog last month. They also sell other things they make, and it pays for their meds, food, and ministry. I was just crazy-blessed to sit with them, pray with them, and sing and dance with them too! Yeah, no photos of that...you're welcome.



There is so much to say, and lots of it was said on our group blog, http://manchesteronthemove.wordpress.com/ , which contains entries from most of us about what we saw and did in Kilgale, Kibuye, Kirinda, and Mugonero. I don't wish to be repetitive here for those who followed the updates from that blog - but I do want to give my friends a bit more as time goes on.



So, Lynne, How was your trip? Because John Cassetto has been there and back twice, he gave us a week's notice that it might be a good idea to start imagining that this will be a question asked of us as soon as we get home, and finding answers will take time. We began to wonder and talk about it in the days that followed, and learned from each other that it's not wrong to have many answers, answers that make no sense, and no answers at all. We saw people who have nothing, but will give you their hearts just because you came; we saw them, loved them, trained them, prayed with them, or just touched them. We learned together with church leaders and pastors what a connected community church looks like. We made new friends, forever friends, and learned to trust each other in almost super-human ways. And of course, we learned some great Kinyarwanda phrases. My faves are; Itorero Wrimwe (One Church), Segugande (Its not about me), and Inshuti wanjye ehene mfite nt'amafaranga (my friend goat has no money). Karen, correct that grammar for me, will you? :)



How was my trip? Wild, fun, soul-wrenching, life-changing, hilarious, scary, awesome, globally significant, and full of tiny insights that will add up in my mind someday to something God will use. But today, it's just over too soon. My main question in Rwanda about returning to the US was, How will I ever go back to doing things that make no difference? Today I started getting answers. We are all created with purpose and purpose takes many many shapes. I got to have the chance to listen to stories of survival which are far more real to me than words on a page. But today, I got to enjoy the embrace of my family - and that matters too.



Yesterday I found a list I wrote last year. It was on a yellow pad that was just laying open and anyone in my house in the last month walked by it in my den. I must have written it after I'd read Crazy Love by Francis Chen. The top reads: If I really loved God with a consuming passion, I would:

As I read the items that went on for 3 pages, I came across these feelings;

• Rip off the armor that keeps me from feeling the pain of others



• Pray more and write less



• Be the people I admire. Do what they do. Ask more of myself.



• Start saving for Africa

That last one just filled me with JOY, and I need some lately because my heart is broken that I'm not still in Rwanda. Look what you did, God. Wow.



I'll keep letting this unfold here, for anyone who is interested. If you are reading this, then you are open. So thank you!

ready? set? go.

Today is the day :) I have laughed all week at how many friends and family members have called and come to see me "one last time" before I leave tonight, and I've tried to be brave for all the goodbye hugs (but you don't make it easy, Emily! Julia!) and I have left today open for packing and final checklists. David is driving us all to the airport at 2:30 am Sunday and from there, I'll be in the Great Hands that hold me always.
They say the journey IS the destination, and as I look back at all the details that carried me like ocean waves to this shoreline, and this new land, I know it's true. Just getting ready has made me a better me, and hopefully a better Christ follower. I have had people wish me Good Luck, and tell me that they could never do what I'm doing. I think they must say that because they think I'm going to Rwanda because I'm some kind of do-gooder (on steroids), when quite honestly, if that were my motivation, I'd be running on fumes by now. I'm seeing that when I see what God is doing and just jump in, he jumps in with all the power, talent, and resources that I need. Whoever you are, you know it too- if you don't yet, then you are missing out on a lifestyle of faith that will blast all your good deeds to smithereens. Doing good is so wasted without love and hope and the power of God to stay when we are gone.

Oh magnify the Lord with me. Let us exhalt his name together. Psalm 34:3.

manna

I am just a few days from Rwanda and I'm getting all mushy and reflective about that. Rwanda, I've learned over this past year, is a very sacred place because of the life and death that fights for a voice from its rolling hills and tear-soaked soil. But it is also very much like any place else: full of people with needs, big noisy families that laugh and love, and work that must get done. I have been wondering lately how much of what I have is handed to me by God and how everything, just everything is coming from God, one way or another.

Last night we had our last full team session; 38 of us together, practically vibrating with anticipation, praying for each other and for the people we'll meet so soon. We sat there, with every financial need met, and all fundraising over, and I giggled at how I could have ever questioned that God would pull it off. John Cassetto and Lisa Mazur, our MCC staff leaders, are so excited to go back to Rwanda and see their friends again, and bring us along like a giant truck full of gifts to them. John gets downright emotional when he talks about this. The moments in life when he sees the big "C" church being the CHURCH and doing what we're here for - these moments make him just stand in awe and when he talks about it, he glows. He weeps. I just can't wait to see what he is talking about for myself. To have the thing I'm praying for right in front of me.

I didn't expect to be this girl. I never thought I'd get to be a piece of something global. I'm not sure I ever wanted to. I can't think about that for very long, because its like looking at the sun; it starts to burn. Honestly, everything that we all do each day contributes to a big whole already, and it always has. So, why not do something little and one-step-at-a-time-ish for God?

There was a time, according to Exodus, when God fed his people himself in order to teach them about one-day-at-a-time faith. Manna is what they called the flaky coriander and honey flavored food (I always picture Baklava) that he provided, because there was no game to hunt out where they were wandering, I guess. This 'bread from heaven' fell with the morning dew each day during the period in which they had no land to call their own. By the next day, all the manna from the day before would start to rot and be inedible, so there was no saving up except the night before the Sabbath. Because God wanted to have that day of rest and worship kept holy, he gave them double food the day before. Sure enough, Sabbath would come and there would be no manna in the morning.

But, why?

"In the desert, the whole community grumbled against Moses and Aaron. The Israelites said to them, 'If only we had died by the LORD's hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death.'" Exodus 16:2 In other words, "We'd rather die and be slaves to those tyrants still than suffer like this and never know whether we're going to have food tomorrow!" But, God had his reasons.

When I said yes to joining a team and doing community development through local churches in Rwanda for a few weeks in August, my circumstances were very different than they are today: we were both employed. It was not that much of a stretch for Dave and I to imagine my involvement at this level. So I began informing my friends and family that they could participate by supporting us, and just after my final airfare payment came due, Dave got laid off. For a little while, we did question if we were getting new information that should change my plans, but we proceeded by faith and knew that if God didn't want me on this trip, he would most certainly put a big BOULDER in my path. He never did. So I obeyed and God provided. This is God's economy and it works. Who knew? Uh-huh.

"He humbled you, feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord." Deuteronomy 8:3 This is a great GREAT mystery, but I'm ok with that. What it looks and feels like today in my life- to live on what I know to be true from God and let the rest be in his hands- is all I have to do. He's always been faithful to me, and he never owed me a thing.

Murakoze cyane, Imana. Thank you so much, God.

So, this might be my last post from this blog for a while, but I may get the chance to post updates from Rwanda. We will be blogging from http://manchesteronthemove.wordpress.com/ so please check that out! And please POST on there! I want to hear your voice.

Thanks again for every little thing you have done to keep me stoked and all your prayers!

stay upright

Last weekend I got to be on the Route Safety Bike Crew at the Boston Breast Cancer 3 Day. There were about 18 of us on all kinds of bikes who were tasked with patrolling the line of 1600 walkers on their daily journey and keeping them safe. It was the most fun I've ever had on two wheels.


I could not help but flash forward, as I endured cold rain, blazing sunshine, and city streets and tented nights, that I was in training for Rwanda. With some measurable differences: I expect to have my feet on the ground for the most part and I will get a bed! One thing that is surely the same is we will all need each other every day to do the tasks that are planned - thank God that he created us to work as a team! God himself IS, in fact, a team: the three in one, the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Even they don't act alone!


I had never done volunteer bike crew at the 3 day before (last year I walked it), and as I looked for specific direction as to how to perform my job, my stoic Captain, Nick, was a man of few words. He looks like a young Peter Lawford, and his side glance is chilling but his heart is pure gold. Nick has a favorite phrase that he signs off with: stay upright.


On a bike, staying upright is quite crucial. I've been cycling for 4 years, and primarily I do it for fun and fitness. Last weekend, I was on my bike for other purposes entirely; to have close physical proximity to the walkers who may experience medical emergencies through out the weekend, both because of their strenuous activities (16-22 miles on foot daily) and because of existing conditions. Many are currently in chemo and fighting breast cancer like little pink pit bulls. In order to be near them, we were frequently riding on the "wrong" side of the road, depending on what sidewalk the walkers were directed to use. As a cyclist, this is particularly hard because we all know we are supposed to ride with traffic and this is the responsible way to ride and what cars expect of us. Considering that they hate us already (yo, today just give a cyclist a little road margin; they will be so grateful), riding on the wrong side/left side also put us at considerable risk.


I went down twice, but neither slip was serious. Each time, I was not paying close attention to my personal fatigue, and I failed to stay upright. And each time, I was embraced, fed electrolyte-laced liquids, and band-aided back to the upright position. It was painfully clear to me ( I needed the big bandaid) at the 3 Day that I was being given a living tool to add to my tool kit as I leave with the Peace Teams in 8 days: to stay upright, we need each other. I needed my team of cyclists to answer my radio call, and I needed walkers to keep me juiced, I needed the med team and the food service crew to take care of me, and they needed me to watch out for them on the roads and cheer them home.


So, true confessions time: it was hard for me to surrender to needing people last weekend. Why is it so hard to need each other, when it feels so good and works so well? I am like a little kid who wants to run away from my Daddy when he's trying to hold my hand and keep me safe. But this thing is also true: I am marvelously spoiled by that Father with the lessons from the 3 day this year, and extravagantly drenched in the faith I have in my team as we go. Needing each other is going to be half the fun!

Details, details:

• Our team as of Sunday will be at our financial goal, thanks to the hail-Mary-style checks that have been lobbed in at the last second, including money from another team that was over-goal! God is good :)


• Watch for your blue envelope, support team! It's coming to you this week. I will post prayer needs here before I leave, as well.


• Dave has a big interview while I'm away, so please pray that this job works out! He'd be great at it. Three cheers for the best husband ever :) Missing him will be one of my significant challenges on this trip, but loving him is one of my greatest joys. xo David

Thank you to every one who is praying - you are my team and I need you and love you.

running with a bucket

Lord, I crawled across the barrenness to You

With my empty cup.

Uncertain, but asking any small drop of refreshment.

If only I had known You better,

I'd have come running with a bucket.

- anonymous

Even now, 3 days after our time with the two pastors from Saddleback Church (7 hours together, 7 pages of notes, and a fist full of handouts), I am still reeling from all I learned. And I use the word "learned" loosely, because the actual learning of the wisdom that was passed on to us about doing development work in Rwanda will probably not take place truly until I get there. In 18 days.

Simply put, and profoundly taught, the difference between development and relief is being fleshed out by the P.E.A.C.E. plan. For years people have been doing much good in relief work: feeding the poor, nurturing those who are sick and dying, and providing economic assistance in many of Africa's nations. But, the work of development can only happen when local people through the many churches there are taught to create health, economic balance, literacy, and spiritual growth that is sustainable. There are 3 hospitals in the western province and 26 clinics, but there are more than 700 churches. The church is the greatest distribution channel in the world.

At our church there is an oft-reitterated catch-phrase: "the church is the hope of the world". I had a limitted understanding of that concept, but the house of knowledge in my head now has a full basement, if you get my drift. Now that people are linking economic, medical, education, and spiritual aid together through the kinds of projects planned for us and 1000's of others like us, it is all making sense. This is why a few weeks in Rwanda will be able to make a difference. It makes so much sense, I am tempted to think (with you) - naturally people have been doing this already right? Classic no-brainer! This is actually a pretty new development for "mission work", which has classically been relief and evangelism based. The revolutionary change is that in this millennium, the church is finally doing the gospel, and not just talking about it. Phew. God must be psyched :)

Are you praying for me? Cuz, I am feeling it.

Personal update:

• Dave is interviewing and things are moving forward with him accessing his vast network professionally.
  
• The kiddos are having a great summer: my brilliant, healthy, strong daughters are continuing to enjoy life, thank God.
  
• My support to fund the trip to Rwanda is almost fully achieved. ALMOST! What did I say at the start of my fundraising? (Besides, really God? Are you kidding me?) I was excited to see how God would do this rabbit-out-of-hat trick. It has been nothing short of miraculous to be sent by you. My support team will be getting something in the mail in a blue envelope soon, so watch for it!

More updates to follow! Thanks for following the blog!

patterns

Wikipedia says: A pattern is a type of theme of recurring events of or objects. These elements repeat in a predictable manner.

I collect patterns because I'm a yarn-freak. A pattern to me is a future opportunity to have the luxurious excuse to make something from nothing, using guidelines which someone has created and found a way to successfully execute. A pattern is proof that the item, or garment, will work out as planned. You can see why I love them.

Lately I'm seeing patterns. I noticed one yesterday as I enjoyed some sweet time with a dear friend. Because of tough circumstances that she faces,it was important to clear my day and lay out a stretch of time with her that we both really needed. My life is so crammed with stuff lately because of work, the trip and the Breast Cancer 3 Day next week, that hanging out on her deck telling stories all afternoon was like a stay-cation. We sipped cold drinks, watched the birds, and topics rambled and rested on some sweet memories of our mothers. I got to watch my friend, who has not felt well in months, re inhabit her body as she told me her stories. She held her hand on her neck while she spoke, circling her necklace around her lovely fingers, and I wondered if she was comforting herself or feeling her life beat subconsciously. And I hoped for both.

So, patterns. :) My friend has a pattern of applying hope to her life. Because she has done if for so long, she is not even aware of it passing into her conversation, but she sure misses it when it's absent. Hope is a force. It breathes like the fresh morning air - reviving sleepy cells and refreshing weary old thought patterns. My patterns dictate what I'll decide to expect from my circumstances. I like my predictable paths and methods, I try not to disturb them until I am knocked off my little balance beam by a thrust of doubt. Do I have a pattern of hope? Dave has a job interview tomorrow. Why this job, why not this job? My friend needs a new treatment plan for her illness. Why this illness, why not this illness? Thought patterns offer answers, and hope offers answers, and sometimes I can't decide which ones to believe.

For me, praying is a great act of hope. It is a response and it has become one of my favorite patterns. In Luke 22, the Bible says that Jesus was facing the day when he'd be publicly tortured to become the mediator and method of reconciliation to God for anyone who believes. So, as was his pattern, he went to this place he loved going to and he spent the night before praying. Some say he was giving us a pattern. I think he was also surviving a hellish night and prayer was the method of his rescue. The power and the pattern of his life.

So I am praying today for my husband and my friend. I choose to apply a pattern of hope to my circumstances which, simultaneously changes the way I look at the world. That is the sneaky little benefit of prayer that God slips in when I'm not looking: I pray to change the world, and God responds. And by my prayer, He changes me to change my world. Huh. I think I see a pattern.

Rwanda itinerary!

With only 5 weeks til the PEACE Teams fly off to Rwanda, I thought you might like to know what the itinerary is looking like. This answers the question, "what the heck are you going to Rwanda for, again?", for all of you loving friends and family and kind co-workers :)

Aug 9, Sun - 2:30am, Catch an MCC shuttle from Manchester to Logan for our first flights

Aug 10, Mon - 11:55am local time, Arrive Kigali, Rwanda and settle into Iris Guest House

Aug 11, Tue - 9-11am, Orientation at PEACE office in Kigali, followed by lunch, and a visit to the Genocide Museum

Aug 12, Wed. - Depart Kigali for Kibuye, ride in a big bumpy van for many hours :), Orientation in Kibuye and dinner.

Aug 13 Thur. - Aug 19, Wed. - Community Development Work (CDW) begins! Lodging at Bethanie Guest House

Aug 19 Wed - Depart Kibuye for Kigali

Aug 20 Thur - at Akagera National Park

Aug 21 Fri - free day in Kigali

Aug 22 Sat - Team Debrief, and afternoon visit with Harvest Church

Aug 23 Sun - Church in Kigali and getting ready to leave, flights depart 4:15pm

Aug 24 Mon - arrive home to Logan airport

Phew! It was really exciting to see some of the blanks filled in last night as we met as an entire team to have a training on the cross-cultural issues we will want to be aware of as we head to Rwanda. The more we learn the more excited we all become just to get there!

I want to thank all of my supporters again for the amazing response you have shown to the idea of Lynne going to Africa, lol. You believe in what we are about concerning the PEACE Plan, and what you don't completely understand, you ask me! Keep asking, by the way! The PEACE Plan is about training trainers; making leaders able within their own towns to do their own community development. We are picking up where some others have left off in a global effort to be reconcilers, educators, care-givers, and loving supporters of a movement in Rwanda that is phenomenally important to the future of this great people. And, right before our eyes, they are becoming a beacon of light to the whole world on the subject of healing and forgiveness, as they become ONE people and erase racial and tribal barriers. My support team members will be receiving a special prayer reminder card in the mail at the end of this month, and details about how to follow the blog we'll be updating from Rwanda! Oxoxoxox to you all.

To those who are watching and have yet to support us, can I ask you a favor? I am nearly at goal now, but still have more support to raise. Some of you have asked if it's too late. NOPE! Please help me and my team fill in the gaps. Even a small donation will make a big difference right now. You can find out how to give by looking at about me (pink, stretching my legs, over in the side column, top left of this page) or by emailing me at lynnelor@yahoo.com . I am forever grateful for your help :)

epic rain

In New Hampshire this morning, we are yet again plodding through puddles and keeping a stiff upper lip (although, it's quivering) as we face another rainsoaked summer day. Its getting downright epic.

Perhaps it's because of the tough economy, another grim reality we all share, that the rain feels like some grand-scale metaphor. We know it will stop, it could stop any time. Just like hope - the prospect of the sun peeking out is still present despite the forecast. Today, in Hillsborough County, we have a flash-flood warning and meteorologists are trotting out verbs like "ponding" to describe how the rain is behaving in our streets. Ponding, pooling, creeping, soaking, and pounding; the language that is being exercised on the news is making vividly real the very serious nature of what is normally just a nuisance. On the last report I heard, the meteorologist wished us a safe morning, which actually made me nervous!

Yet, it is a holiday weekend: July 4th will still mean freedom celebrations, parades, bar-b-ques and fireworks, thankfully. We all need to get some joy - even from under tents and peering out of windows as we try to dry out. And, joy, we will get, because being together is fun, even in the rain.

Return, O my soul, to your rest, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you. Psalm 116:7

Do you ever talk to yourself? In this verse, David is telling his soul to shake off the blues and get a grip. This is not glib bright-siding. This is truth that is just as true as rain. God is blessing me and I am blessed. Blessing, good fortune, laughter, happiness, (and all the synonyms for it) is still here even in the tough times. I don't think King David, whose life was hanging in the balance because so many people wanted to kill him all the time, was drawing a happy face in the sand when he spoke those words to his own soul, and hoping it would help. Strangely enough, David was also a phenomenal songwriter. It is as if his life made him have to sing. To say this another way, I think King David (who was the great-great-great-great......grandfather of Jesus) made a life practice to stop, look around, and change chairs. I think he was sitting in a new chair and looking at the one where he'd been spending too much time: the one where he was so anguished, he cried all day long.

I want to sit in a new chair too. Sounds like a plan. Maybe I'll sing a little too.

need one? be one.

This is Team Kivu, the small group that will be traveling to Rwanda in 6 short weeks! Starting top row left this is Karen, Bryan, Jeri, and Bob. Front row: me, Colleen, and Mike.

See, I told you we were normal. The trip is composed of 5 such groups, and we are getting to know eachother through our training period, so that we will be more effective to get stuff done once we arrive in Kibuye.

"Training" may sound like an odd way to phrase what we are doing; we associate training with athletic or professional endeavors. But if you can picture what it would take to bring Normal You to a place of readiness to be something other than stunned and useless to a poor, sick, underresourced, scarred, and weary group of people who needed your assistance, can you picture you'd probably want training? Right.

Stunned and useless was where I started Saturday morning when I pictured taking on the P.E.A.C.E. plan- style tasks that my small group packed into this past weekend: on Saturday, a Poker Fun Run Fundraiser for Jeri, a member of Team Kivu, and on Sunday, teaming up to help a family pack their house for a move. Fish-out-of-water might aptly describe me eating lunch with 20 bikers (long story, loved them!) and taking a house from extreme disarray to boxed-and-ready together with a group of 11 hardworking friends. Yet, after the fact, there is nothing that mattered more. In the end, Jeri's fundraiser was a roaring success and a ton of fun, and packing the house for Jen (a cancer patient with two toddlers and a teenage son)and Ted felt like being part of a miracle. One they needed desperately.

Generally speaking, I've noticed either I need a miracle or I'm positioned to be part of one. We are back in the NEED ONE category today. Dave learned Friday that his job has been ellimiated: another casualty of this heinous economy. Today we join the ranks of the unemployed in search of our next miracle. And just like last time, it will show up, we just don't know how. I will need prayer and total clarity to make the decisions we face in the next few weeks. We need some miracles and are actually excited to see them rise like a perfect sun on our horizon. Because that's what our God is like.

as we forgive

There is something going on in Rwanda right now called 100 Days of Hope. It is the 15th anniversary of the genocide, so in Rwanda, there are many observances. In the same way that we in the US observe the passage of years since a national trauma like 9-11-01, the Rwandans are marking time and honoring the lost as well as celebrating the reconciliations that are not just "religious" in quality, but are also social, political and personal.

As We Forgive is a documentary (and a companion book) which will debut July 3rd in Rwanda, and then go on to be shown worldwide and through PBS stations everywhere. It is an award-winning film that highlights the private reconciliation stories of victims, widows, orphans and perpetrators "whose past and future intersect". Pray with me on July 3rd that the opening of the film will reach 1000's in country and internationally, so that the beauty of the many reconciliation efforts in Rwanda can flourish.

How does this affect me? I am not at war with my racial opposites. I am not even angry at anyone. But I've been hurt and I've wished harm. I do not understand the feelings of the people in the world whose loved-ones were the victims of violence and injustice. But this does not exempt me. I am not UN-called to love and forgive and care just because that is not my story. I see injustice all around me, I'm no longer blissfully blinded. It is not my personality to interfere with things that are not my business. But, my personality is not the only aspect of my humanity God asks me to operate from. It's just the beginning of something I'm learning.

There's no real end to this path. This is a good thing.

P.S. to see the movie trailer for yourself, click on the title of this post :)

over-joyed

Every been over-joyed? Not overjoyed, as in; I am just overjoyed to find out that my friend is pregnant after years of infertility, or; I'm overjoyed at the chance to have a day off while the sun is out so I can go to the ocean with my family. No, over-joyed, as in over-worked, over-whelmed, over-come, only not with too much work, pain, or exhaustion: with too much joy. That's how I feel lately. There is more joy set before me, more to look forward to than I can even think about in one thought, and more than I expected this year to have in it. How much joy can I even hold? I have more than I can handle with these hands.

When I get to talk to someone about what we will be doing in Kibuye, this thrill just gushes out and when we are done talking, I'm breathless with the invigoration of all of it. Probably the ordinary life of working and raising a family, although it's fun (no offense, fam) has dulled my thrill-nerve, and it is suddenly exposed by the opportunity to do something amazing. And probably, there has been amazing stuff to do all around me all this time that I was dull to, as well. What I mean is, it's not Rwanda or this work after all that is the source of all this ridiculous joy: it's giving yourself to people for a purpose that is simple and essential, and actually appreciating the process because it has a beauty -in the planning and in the doing- that feels like a gigantic perfect rose bloom opening in my face. Like that one from Maria's garden.

The bible says that Jesus did what he did for the joy set before him. In Hebrews 12:2, it says:

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

That was his motivator: JOY. I love that about him. It inspires me to let joy source my life like an underground reservoir for action, for dreaming, for plans and for purpose. The version of the bible called The Message, puts the same verse in modern words:

Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we're in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever.

Are you over-joyed? Want to be? Ask. I know I'm getting all preachy, but hang in for a sec. Today I read in Luke 11 (on the subject of Fathers, since it is Father's Day this Sunday) that ANY Dad (even an average Dad -if there is such a thing) will give his child a snack when they ask, and not slip a snake into his hands instead. This is the image Jesus uses to answer the question: how should we pray? Pray like a kid asking his Dad for a snack: totally sure that because he loves you, he won't let you go hungry. That, times a gazillion = God your father's desire to answer you.

So, here's the deal. Ask for joy. Let me know what happens.

what is fair trade and why should I care

Please check out the new Trade As One blog, which happens to feature some extraordinarily cool people from my church. Colleen, whose face graces the start of the video (you are so famous, Colleen), is my team leader to Rwanda. This past weekend, Dave, Julia and I trekked down to Boston to check out the Fair Trade exhibit, and see up close what fair trade vendors are up to. We are aware of fair trade mainly because Manchester Christian Church partners with Trade As One, and so we have a little mini boutique of products made available through them at church. All of the products they represent are fair trade, which means that crafters and growers get paid fairly for their work. Not just that: frequently fair trade items are making life possible for people who are escaping sextrade networks, and making an income for families with HIV positive members who have few income opportunities. And can I just say, the fair trade items I own are really high quality as well! The basket in the above pic was made in Rwanda, and it most often holds one of the major protein sources our family lives on: Peanut M&M's. There are lots of fair trade products available in the general market now, so we can look for the Fair Trade Federation seal on things like Honest Tea (great stuff) and many coffees too. Naturally I got a great new bag from Marigold - being the queen of bags and bowls, I have a title to uphold.

Seriously, I've never been very aware of spending with a social conscience. Its really not that complicated: let my consumerism make a difference whenever possible. For instance, if I buy fair trade coffee brewed for us at church on Sunday instead of at Dunks, I am letting the real coffee growers who made it get paid fairly (and the coffee is also yummy). Win-win.

It is amazing and embarassing how much bigger my world is now than it once was. Recently, I was fb'd (facebooked) by a California nurse who has worked in Rwanda and wants to answer my questions. She was responding to a blog post I wrote on Morgan in Africa. Dave shakes his head when I tell him these things because he knows my tight little world is breaking open. On one hand, I have forty-plus years of ignorance to make up for and it's humbling to say the least. On the other hand, this God of ours is so much bigger than my envelope of ideas of him. Is that not GOOD news?

survivor

This July 24-26, I will participate for the second time in the Breast Cancer 3 Day, an event in which people walk 60 miles in a 3 day period to raise money to end breast cancer. There are 15 such events nationwide, and this year, Boston kicks of the season.

Since losing my mother to breast cancer, I have met so many people whose lives are indelibly altered by loss when their loved one did not survive and survivors who continue to battle on. I did the 3 Day last year as a walker, and this year I will be on Bike Safety Crew. So as I plan for Rwanda, I am also training to be bike-ready for 10-14 hour days "in the saddle" (cylcists lingo for on the bike) - serving the walkers, who are worthy of all my time, tender tuchis, and temporary tenting because what they do will remarkably add days to a life that is precious.

I love survivors. The survivor status at The 3 Day is a significant honor. Survivors, the ones who have had cancer, walk alongside us and enter the closing ceremonies last, like battle-scarred warriors, which they are. It is a moment of choking back tears or letting them flow when we stop to cheer them and recognize that the fight is still going on, even as we enjoy the achievement of the walk we have just completed together.

I am a Survivor fan - the show, I mean. I am one of those addicted souls who rush to be home for 8pm on Thursdays when the group of reality-tv characters show up for their 39 day ordeal of athletic and mental endeavors, and I love to root for a winner just as much as the next guy. But I know that surviving desolate conditions in Tocantins, Brazil is nothing compared to surviving cancer or genocide. And, anything risky you take on by choice is pretty much off the table when a discussion of life and death arises for real. Is perching on a pole for over an hour without falling off really surviving? And yet I watch.

Survivors of the genocide which killed 90% of the city of Kibuye, Rwanda, where I will be living, are not all immediately obvious just at a glance. I'm told that when we meet them, they will not be identified as such, but we will know from their age who was orphaned, because those kids are about 15-25 now. We will know, if we see people with less than all of their appendages, that they lived through unspeakable events. Are they people of honor? Lauded in society? What is remarkable is that Rwandans feel very ashamed of their history - folks who have nothing to be sorry for, are humiliated by the actions of the Hutu power movement which scarred their legacy. Some do not look you in the eye because of this - because you are foreign and visiting, and what must you think of them. This is a different kind of survivor, to be sure.

Am I a survivor? I am certainly not a war hero or a cancer patient (yet). I am not mamed by the machete. Yet, I fight for life. We all do. What are you surviving?

shots and live typhoid in the fridge

Shot, to be more exact. Today I went to The Travel Clinic with Karen Lofgren for our shots - and was surprised to find that we could only get one; the yellow fever appointment will take place when five of us are all there together because there is a shortage and the doc only opens a vial of five doses when he has five victims, um, patients. And the malaria is a pill, so we take that at home along with the live typhoid capsules which are living in my fridge. Yup, behind the eggs. Don't eat at my house for a while.

This is kind of really actually happening. Each little step toward our time in Rwanda seems small but feels more and more solid (less dream-like) with each doorway I pass through. It reminds me, strangely enough, of getting married and every little thing that led to May 2nd, 1987, becoming David's wife. Three years of wacky friendship, letters, distance, dating, I love you's, gifts, holidays, families, lots more I love you's, then a diamond. Before the ring, Dave actually had to take a job and move near me, which must have been a huge deal for him! Although 5/2/87 was the day my identity changed (from just me into his wife), each little choice over 5 years moved me toward that one.

I find that sometimes choices make my other choices. I choose to go to Rwanda and help out, love a while, and come home with new eyes. But this choice is making many little choices right now: I had to get a new passport (arrived today), immunizations, do some fundraising, and basically get out of my own way to make this trip real. As real as a shot in the arm.

Hope you like the photos :)

P.S. I know why weddings are on my mind: today my parents would have had their 52nd anniversary

P.P.S. Shots schmots (doesn't work as well as risk schmisk)

TRAVEL STUFF

• Airfare went Down and the due date moved back! Now airfare to Rwanda is available for the bargain basement price of just $1,875, and is due by 6/22, which means...
• IT IS NOT too late to join my Support Team (go team!)
• Total support raised thus far, thanks to YOU: $1,580, which means...
• I'm over halfway there!

All this and prayer support too. Wow

Associations of Orphan Survivors: how orphans are joined into new family units from Morgan in Africa

Morgan in Africa is a blog (and a person!) that I follow. She's a normal woman from Washington D.C. doing work in Rwanda. If you have not checked it out before, it is extraordinary. Here is a fascinating excerpt from Morgan's explanation of what was accomplished in a International Symposium on the Genocide Against Tutsi 2009 (Day 3) council April 09 (last month) regarding the rebuilding society post genocide.

Reconstitution of Human Resources and Social Fabric as an essential component of the base of sustainable development
Young people grow up in associations of orphan survivors. Artificial families are very valuable to people; provide familial protection and comfort. Youth have created these families through associations. The youth then find their own solutions to problems. One such association is the GAIG. They refuse to be restrained by their handicap—they continue to live with dignity. They also have an artificial family surname. They have a mother, a father, uncles, aunts, children. The family names they take show compassion, solidarity, and strength. The different people play the different roles; the “parents” give away their “children” in marriage, for example. This combats negationism. Members value the group they belong to. They try to be strong, but they are still psychologically weak. “ Fathers” can have the same age as “children.” They participate in parent-teacher conferences. They sign report cards. The family splits the responsibilities evenly. They are enterprising. The families develop an identity and a non-violent and pro-justice ethnic. Before being killed, the real parents of these children were humiliated, and other adults, particularly killers, have been bad models of behavior. The survivors want to help lead the reconstruction of their country through better behavior and active participation. When real kids are born, they participate in the artificial family. This auto-affirmation shows a desire to live and survive and thrive.

Back to me, here: can you fathom this? This is what must happen for the future of these children to be positive, and it is happening. I'm amazed. Would love to know your thoughts on this.

sacred life

Do you know anyone who is pregnant?
Everything about her is fresh, hopeful, radiant. Every detail of the precious new life inside her is deliriously fascinating. A heartbeat heard at the doctor's office, an ultrasound sent in an email to distant relatives (like me, thanks Rick and Maira!) Life is so insanely sweet, and new life - life that seems to have come from nothing -is one of the most marvelous mysterious incidents we ever get to witness. My nephew and his bride are pregnant and it makes the whole famly just so thrilled to celebrate every little thing about the one whose face we will see before Christmas.

But life is also fragile. If you know someone with cancer, depression, or plain old worn out body parts, who is jobless, or if this is your reality today, then you know what I mean. The frailty we share is a constant reminder of why loving and giving ourselves to each other every day is so essential. Love shows up with boots on, or a casserole or a note or a check.

"If you give even a CUP of COLD WATER (how hard is that?) to one of the least of my followers, you will surely be rewarded." -Jesus Christ, Matthew 10:42

Have you had a cup of cold water today? Have you hugged hard and long? Have you said I love you? Go ahead. Be ridiculously loving to someone - feel like a total idiot and get over it. Someone near you is thirsty.

Rwanda Update: THANK YOU, YOU AMAZING DONORS! I'll be sending out the first two knit market bags and bracelets to my first three families to contribute to getting me to Rwanda. You are my hug from God and boy did I need it yesterday. I'm trying to get a little cold water to some people who really need it in Rwanda, and YOU are supplying the CUP. Thank you.

check this!

(click on the words "check this" and see what happens...)

risk-taker

Yesterday, a friend of Julia's said, "Mrs. Lorentsen is going to Africa. She's a risk-taker."

I had to laugh hysterically (and so did you ) because that's a first. Never at any time has anyone used those words to describe me. I am a safety-freak. Seat belt, sunscreen, 5 lipsticks (ok, 10) on hand so I always match, extra sweater in case I get cold.

I guess it's pretty wild, going to Rwanda. I am collecting the face-to-face responses I'm getting and finding them so fascinating. Some of you think that I'm nuts - I can tell because you say zero. Oh, she's crazy, now THAT's been said before :) Other people challenge me with questions that I should know the answers to. It makes me dive into my books, as well I should. Is AIDS any worse in Rwanda, or is it worse in other parts of Africa? What do they eat? Where is Rwanda on my globe? What language do they speak? Are you scared?

Honestly? I'm not scared because my friends have been there before me, and although what we'll get to do will be a step beyond what they did (picking up where someone left off), I am just walking the path that led me here. This is the next thing for me, and I'm certain - how rare is that? To pass up the chance to do this while I am strong and well, to get to do something that matters for people who are world class forgivers, would be a greater risk. I expect to get a lot more than I'm giving.

Risk-shmisk.

That's the weather, now for...the NEWS

We met for the second time as a whole team to learn more about what the P.E.A.C.E. teams will be doing when I get to Rwanda in exactly 3 months. The news is very cool:

• We'll be going to Kibuye which is a city in the west and it is on beautiful Lake Kivu, which is kind of like Winnepesauke - ginormous :)


• Some of our teams will be shadowing the folks from Saddleback Church which is in California. Heard of Rick Warren? Who prayed at the Inauguration for our new Pres? He's the pastor at Saddleback. In fact, their church began the movement that led to the work we get to join in on now. This is especially cool because they do this community relief work right. I will learn so much.


• The airfare is (good) less than I expected and (bad) due JUNE 6th, yikes. I have it on good authority that God is able (in his own words) to do exceedingly abundantly beyond all we ask or think. Should be pretty cool to watch! (kind of rabbit-out-of-hat but nothing he can't handle)


• I know now exactly what to wear - which of course really matters :) Long skirts, short sleeve shirts, no shorts and no tanks! Pierre, a Rwandan friend that our trip leader met in Feb, was with us Sunday night and gave us the skinny. If you ladies show a lot of skin, do you think they'll hear a word you say? Oh, right. Also, leave the diamonds home. Nothing should get in the way of the relationships we'll make.


• Bring family pictures! Here in the states, the first thing someone wants to know when they meet you is ,"What do you do?" In many other nations, the first question is, "Where are you from?" But in Rwanda, they ask, "Who is your family?" Love that :) I like them already.

messing with my normal

Reality is messing with my normal. You know, NORMAL. What is supposed to happen, the way things are supposed to go. What we all agree is customary; the rules we obey so that our environment is comfortable and predictable.

Monday night, three 16 year old boys from Milford were in a horrible car accident and two of them died. The driver is still in critical condition and other details of his condition are private. My daughter knows these boys well. Kids are not supposed to die. Not American kids, not African kids - no kids. I heard someone say they were going too fast - who cares? Does that help the normal to rush back in? If I can somehow make sense of it so I can feel normal sooner? At what expense?

I heard the term "the new normal " rise into ordinary conversation after 9-11-01, and even before that when my Mom died of breast cancer in 2000. It seems to mean that we must accept the unthinkable into the pattern of our lives in order to keep the fabric from unravelling and becoming unusable, unfinished, unacceptable. Knit me together....Sometimes that is the hardest thing to pray.

For today, my normal is still better than the normal around me. Can I be grateful?

joy's story: getting there

Muraho (which means: Hi, I haven't seen you in a while! in the Kinyarwanda language)

Wow, thanks for checking out my blog :) This feels kind of scary, like leaving my journal open on the coffee table...which, by the way, I'd never do... So why blog?

• to make the process of preparing for my trip to Rwanda into something family and friends can check out easily


• to keep it real (today,I'm excited-scared-amazed-and-intruiged. Yesterday I was overwhelmed)


• to talk about the Rwandan history that motivates us to want to assist them now and in the future


• to ask and answer questions


• to tell anyone who is interested how they can help me and my team.


• for the fun of it :)

I'll be posting ways that people can help me fund the trip, and by doing so, partner in the great work of Peace Teams - specifically I'm going to be making some beatiful ART you can USE, for your donations, so stay tuned.

Thanks for visiting :)

oh! That image is one of the photos taken this past Feb. by Leah Reynolds on her trip to Rwanda.

why rwanda?

I began to be intrigued when a team of totally normal people that I know announced that they'd be going on a discovery trip in the summer of 08 to Rwanda in order to figure out if our church could be involved in assisting the church in Rwanda. To find out more about Rwandans and read amazing stories of survival, check out this link.
I wasn't one of those brave people, but I wanted to pray for them, because prayer is work anyone can do, any time, anywhere, and it is one way God gets things done (according to 11 Corinthians 1:11). One way I have found to keep a specific prayer in the front of my mind is to wear a reminder of it on my wrist. God told His community in the Old Testament to use this trick to keep His law front and center (see it in Deuteronomy 6:8). The bracelet I made to wear while my friends were in Rwanda was very primitive and had their initials. Six people: six letters, separated by purple and silver beads. At different points during the day, if my eyes fell on the bracelet, I'd just pray for who ever's initial was facing up at me. God used these prayers to grab my heart for what he is doing in Rwanda. He is funny like that.
When the second Peace team went this past February, I had been reading about the genocide in 1994, and beginning to understand the history of this amazing country. Where it is, what it's like, and how the ones who survived - did that. Left to Tell, by Immacule Ilibagiza was the first book I read about the actual events of April 1994. What has continually assaulted my mind every time I learn more about the genocide is that it happened during my adult life as I was raising babies and watching the OJ trial on TV - and I never even noticed.
So, why Rwanda? This is a quote from the amazing book I'm reading now, We Wish To Inform You That Tomorrow You Will Be Killed With Your Families, by Philip Gourevitch. During a conversation this New York Times journalist had with a Rwandan, this is how he described his life: "The Rwandans live in the hills. The people are living separately together. So there is responsibility. I cry, you cry. You cry, I cry. We all come running, and the one that stays quiet, the one that stays home, must explain. Is he in league with the criminals? Is he a coward? And what would he expect when he cries? This is simple. This is normal. This is community."
That, in a nutshell, is why.

Where I stop and you begin

I am just like you. I am nothing like you. These ideas have to be knit together in order for me to be the person God can use, in this skin, with these hands.
I'm a wife, mom, professional, runner, yarn-lover, and God follower. You read this and decide if I am like you or if I am just not. We all do this, and it is our point of reference from which to respond. I've been thinking alot about that because in a few months I'll be traveling with a team of other ordinary folks to Rwanda, to serve the beautiful people who live there - for two weeks. The point of the trip, which is being organized by the amazing folks at Manchester Christian Church (http://www.manchesterchristian.com/home.asp), is to partner with the church in Rwanda for the purpose of strengthening their efforts to promote these five priorities:
p -promote reconciliation in a nation ripped apart 15 years ago by senseless genocide
e -equip servant-leaders
a -assist the poor
c -care for the sick
e -educate the next generation

This acrostic spells P.E.A.C.E., so we are called a Peace Team. This is the third one MCC has put together, and there are about 42 of us going in August. We'll be broken into smaller teams to be more effective! I have never done anything like this - and if you know me at all, you must be totally shocked! Hopefully not so much. I'm trying not to be such a slave of my limitations anymore.

So, as I learn about Rwanda and what I'll get to do there, and hopefully raise support for my travel and my team, I will be sharing it here. I hope you will walk with me, because we're really not that different.