Walking

Walking: that's what I've been doing the past two days.

I walked uphill and downhill. I walked barefoot on smoothly paved roads past manicured lawns, flamboyant trees, a tiny white kid running and chatting with his tiny black friend in Chichewa all alone with no parents in sight, and a number of tall brick walls topped with electrical wiring that protects the foreigners who have chosen these elaborate and expensive homes in this still developing country.



I traipsed around on red dirt paths in my dusty sandals, across wooden bridges with some unhinged slats, stepping over discarded banana peels, skeleton corn cobs and flattened plastic bottles, past homemade signs for fruit stands, tuck shops, more flamboyant trees (my favorite), small homes made of mud or brick or metal scraps, straw walls that would take very little huffing and puffing to blow down, and two tiny Chichewa girls laughing and clapping and singing a little rhyme in English.

This is Malawi--her beauty, her contradictions, her complexities, her roads . . .

Today's walk was with my dear friends of Tiwasunge (Tee-wah-soon-gay). These friends are all HIV+, and they have come together in this community-based organization to care for one another and support each other. These friends are beautiful.

We walked all around Kampala village (the Olivers' neighborhood--they do not live with the other foreigners or "azungus;" they live among Malawians) for home visits, praying with bedridden members of the community and meeting orphaned children whose school fees are paid for by Tiwasunge.

I met Cedric, whose parents both died of HIV. He was fortunate for Tiwasunge to pay his fees through form 4 (secondary school). He applied to university but did not get in. But Lucy says it matters not if he got in or not. "If they don't get into university, we have a problem. If they do get into university, we have a problem," she says. In Malawi, I've met too many young people with dreams and hopes and acceptance letters for their preferred university whose education comes to a screeching halt after form 4 exams. Who will pay for their university fees when they are accepted? For the young people supported by Tiwasunge, Lucy has no answer. The organization just cannot afford the expense. Education is power in Malawi--power over poverty, over disease, power to assist their neighbors, to educate other Africans, to increase the hope on their beautiful continent--and these young people quickly become dis-empowered after secondary school.

I also met a woman who has been bedridden for four months now. We could not mention HIV to her or around her, though that is her diagnosis. She believes she has been bewitched and that she has ways to get rid of it. Which means she's probably not so consistent with her ARV's if she takes them at all when the Tiwasunge friends are not around.

She was lying on a piece of foam placed haphazardly on top of bed springs in a dark, dank room that smelled of mud and smoke and manure. We visited her, prayed with her, gave her fresh bananas. Tiwasunge usually wash their patients, feed them more, take their clothes and wash them, provide medicine. They have used their limited funds wisely on supporting education and food for the orphans, but this means they have not been able to afford all of the materials for home-based care in the last couple of months. The bag I remember them carrying 2 years ago on home visits is now very light. But their spirits and belief in prayer is as strong as ever. And I know they will persevere, that God will provide.

I am tired from all of the walking (literally . . . about to take a nap). But I am also tired from all of the disparity. I am tired of seeing 9-month-old babies who are emaciated and don't look like they've been here a day more than 3 weeks. I am tired of knowing HIV destroys lives daily across the world, especially knowing that it's a disease that people can live with if poverty didn't rear its ugly head.

I am also energized to reorganize Pray With Africa and partner with Tiwasunge. I am energized to see what God will do with Tiwasunge and how I can be a part of their story. I am energized to think more about the way I live and how, without even thinking about it, I contribute to a poverty that kills worldwide.

I am hopeful. God is good. And God is desperately in love with us, God's children. The end of our stories is abundant life, and knowing this gives me hope.

A Beautifully Warmed Heart

I love Malawi.

The sun feels good on my skin.

The foliage is bright with greens and oranges and purples.

The sun sets behind chez Oliver, and I am moved to do nothing but be still and stare.

And, the best of all, the people I've met here are warm and friendly and beautiful.

As my friend Miss Ruby says, it's happy here. Very, very happy here.

It's so happy here that yesterday when I discovered at 9:30 that I was in charge of training at a writing workshop for the Malawi United Methodist publications team that was supposed to start at 10-ish, I pulled on my inner "hakuna matata" and somehow (and by somehow, I mean by the grace of God) pulled together a workshop. While Kara had asked me to be a part of the workshop a while ago, I was assured that I did not need to prepare anything and that I would not be in charge. Something got lost in translation, however. But I loved everyone in it so much and had so much fun, that it lasted until about 5:30 pm! And I was still smiling as I went to bed later. Everyone just warms my heart.

Then I worshiped at Galilea UMC, where I worshiped with the Pray With Africa team back in 2008, today. I hugged Montfort and Steve, whose family hosted me two years ago, and felt like I was returning home. I sang next to Tereza (or "Ma Katumbi," because she is my Malawian mother). I hugged Daniel and Francis, new friends who embraced me wholeheartedly because they met my sister Lanecia in March. Everyone just warms my heart.

We came back to the Olivers' house, and I played cards with Carter Russell and watched a movie with him and Claire Marin. The two of them are joyous, and I've enjoyed a couple of days getting to spend time with them. Jeff made grilled cheese sandwiches, rice and tomato soup, and all five of us enjoyed a nice lunch together. Yummy. So much warmth in my heart . . .

And we ended the evening with Ma Katumbi and Lucy, the founder of the Tiwasunge community of HIV+ persons who care for one another, coming over to feast with us for dinner. I love Tereza so much. And I have never met Lucy because she was not here when we visted Tiwasunge in 2008, but she has felt close to my heart. Her love for Tereza radiates, and I am so grateful for her in Tereza's life and in the lives of so many who are HIV+ here in Blantyre. I'm not sure that she knows what an amazing example she is for people all over the world through her ministry. I was honored and humbled and happy to feast with both of them tonight. And I'm also glad that Lucy could give me a good update on Ma Katumbi, who has been quite sick lately, and I could talk with her about taking her medication. Being with them is beyond heartwarming . . . and I'll spend the morning with them. Lucy explained to me that Tereza's son wanted her to come back home with him for a little while so that he could care for her. He lives many hours away from Blantyre. She would not go, though, because she kept telling him that her daughter Ciona was coming to see her. So she delayed her trip home until next week. Love, love! Love all around . . .

So I will sleep well this evening and look forward to the ways my heart will be warmed all week in Malawi, the warm heart of Africa.

peace.

Summer's Winter

I’m very aware of death whenever I leave the continent of Africa. This is not necessarily because of seeing so much pain and dying. I think it’s actually because I witnessed so much aliveness! So each time I leave, I’m aware that anything can happen between the moment I leave and the moment I return to the continent. Death can creep into all of that aliveness so unexpectedly. Every once in a while, winter finds its way to summer.

There’s Joseph—so strong, so resilient, so much going for him. I expected to receive emails about the day he was coming to the U.S., sponsored by New Balance, to run in a major race. Or sweet baby Kofine whose body was frail, but who I thought had a chance at life with the year’s supply of food that was given to her family and Peter’s constant care for them. So when I received messages this past year that both Joseph and Kofine died as a result of poor access to good medical care, my heart froze. What seemed like summertime in their lives was a lie.

Then there’s Marion in Malawi and Lavergne in South Africa—both HIV-positive. Honestly, despite my prayers, I expected both of them might breathe their last breaths maybe before I even landed back stateside in 2008. But when my sister went to both countries this past March—nearly two years later—she returned with images of both women standing, smiling, surviving . . . so beautiful! A summer revival in what I thought were wintered lives.

But in the midst of summer, came winter. And I learned this week that Marion died a few days ago.

the Winter pins me
for a moment, my Summer thoughts had consumed me,
convincing my mind they would not forsake.
I imagined the sun would kiss my skin again, leaving it sticky
I promised to call it a beautiful residue
I pictured walking with my head high, slicing
through summer’s thick air
smiling at couples in sandals
holding hands and sipping lemonade
on a sweet summer stroll
but then Fall and I met, he erased
the summer’s cicada songs from my memory
and lied to me
never warned me of December’s early coming
my limbs were captured, encased by ice
it was almost beautiful—a crystal tree
if it were not also a prison to my bones
I shivered, unable to escape cold
even then I believed I might tiptoe into Spring
quietly like a kid sister returning a diary or a
sundress she never asked to borrow
then February
seized my body
refusing to let me March
now I watch snow fall on skeleton trees
and concede to Winter’s heft
while birds learn morning tunes and tulips bloom
in someone else’s yard

3 july 2004

A few months ago I had the idea to write a poem about HIV/AIDS and seasons. I played around with a few words. Then this week I found this poem , and I’d written it in 2004—untitled, but the (very poor) working titles were “Death of AIDS patient” or “Living with AIDS” or “Dying with HIV/AIDS.” How funny to have an idea this year that I actually had in a writing group one time 6 years ago. I honestly didn’t remember I’d written it. My friend calls it self-plagiarism. I find it fitting to have found it just hours before my friend Kara called to tell me of Marion’s surprising death. And so I share it today in her memory. (I think I'll title it "Winter Song: An AIDS Lament." Maybe.)

I leave you with Marion’s prayer request Lanecia collected back in March:

My prayer is for my family. I pray that God should give me a house. When I was very sick Tiwasunge took care of me. I ask God to continue guiding them. As I'm still strong I ask God to give me capital so I can relieve the burden on Tiwasunge because I have 7 kids. I pray God should bless Tiwasunge. Amen.

May we experience many more springs and summers than fall and winters. But may we accept the cycle of all things and live fully into whatever season life has given us this day.

Like Breath and Water: Praying With Africa

Well, someone reminded me this week that I have blogged a little about the book with great anticipation for its release, but I haven't said anything on here after it actually released. I have linked to the book on Facebook but nothing here.

So Like Breath and Water: Praying With Africa released Sept. 1, published by Upper Room Books. It was the featured book on their homepage for a couple of weeks. It's been picked up on Amazon where Jay Voorhees wrote a very beautiful review (along with a disclaimer for knowing me), and this is very exciting. It looks like Abingdon will pick up the book soon, as well, which means we'll get to be in their distribution at larger bookstores. We're going to possibly work on some book signings at Barnes & Noble in 2010. I'll keep you posted as this develops (I promise).

It's humbling to see this all come together--not just the book but also everything with Pray With Africa. Our film is complete and packaged, and our Tribes are on the road sharing it with the world. Our web site is up (with a few kinks still), and the prayer community is starting to get some prayer requests from the U.S. and Africa (and hopefully from people all over the world soon). People are starting to hear our Learn. Pray. Act. philosophy and are getting excited about living it out in all aspects of their lives and not just our approach to humanitarian aid.

So much of what Cary, Austin and I have been dreaming and shaping for the past year is now out into the world. I've given this huge piece of my heart and the hearts of my friends in Africa through writing Like Breath and Water. We've all done the same with the other pieces of Pray With Africa, as well. I hope that it speaks to people and that God is able to use it to bring us all closer to the Kingdom.

I'm so grateful for family and friends who continue to lift us in prayer and support Pray With Africa all the way . . .

So that's where we are now!

Thirty and Thriving! ;)

I turned 30 yesterday, and it feels good! My friend Beth asked me last night (after my roller skating party, which was uber funtabulous!) what goals I have for the new year. I have several: organizing my room (which is not my forté, as you've read in previous entries), really nailing down a good eating plan (which I think will be easier once we move into the new house, and I can start gardening; more on the new house later) and working on poetry collections more. Specifically, I want to submit more poems to magazines and maybe submit a manuscript, too. This past year has been a slow poetry year for me with co-creating Pray With Africa and writing the book, so I'm itching to focus more on the poetry aspect of my craft this year.



But the biggest goal of the year will be promoting Like Breath and Water: Praying With Africa. It's gone to the presses, and we should get a proof back soon. I'm very excited about it and can't wait to share the stories with everyone. I hope they will be well received and will honor the lives of the people who so graciously shared their stories with me. And I want to really get the book out there. I mean, we're talking Oprah, friends! :) Any ideas you have for promoting it, please send them my way . . . it's all so new to me.

We received two endorsements that will be printed on the book. I'll leave you today with those:

"Like Breath and Water is an inspiring look at the reality of the African
continent, in both its beauty and tragedy.
This story is not only a challenge of our conceptions and apathy; but even
more so, it is a testament to the unbounded power of prayer."

-Jason Russell, Co-founder Invisible Children

"This book dances. It lets us taste the salt in the tears of Africa,
and lets us hear the children giggle. But it goes even deeper.
Like Breath and Water invites us to see these faces across the globe as our
own family. The reality of that should fill us with hope, for we have
much to learn from them. And it should keep us up at night, for we
are still a very dysfunctional Family."

-Shane Claiborne, author, activist, recovering sinner
www.thesimpleway.org


Thanks to my friends for loving me through this book process! I appreciate you so much! And hugs to everyone who has blessed my life with their presence, their encouragement, their beauty and their love to me since 1979! 30 is a good year . . .

Pray With Africa Book Update . . .

Well, I've finished writing the book! It seems that even after I finished the last word on the Pray With Africa book, there's still so much work to be done. This part has been new and very exciting, though. We decided to change the title, and I'm very excited about the new title. Cary and I both thought of it as a title separately, and so I felt like it was a real confirmation when he told me his title idea, and it was the same as mine. The new title of the book is Like Breath and Water: Praying with Africa. In Africa, I realized that prayer is a life force for the people I met in Africa. They value it and depend on it as much as they value and need every precious breath and every drop of clean water. I think the title captures the essence of what I learned about prayer in Africa.

David Uttley is working on designing the cover and the inside of the book--including the photographs. I look forward to seeing what he does with our photographs; he's so talented.

We sent the book to several people today, hoping to get their endorsements and opinions. I hope that they will give us valuable feedback and reviews. Is it too outrageous to think that maybe Bono would really dig this book? We'll see . . .

It's all very special, and I look forward to publication. I'll continue updating as more develops.

In the meantime, here's our latest Pray With Africa media. It will tell you a bit more about our vision.

Also, you can visit our web site (the temporary one, that is; the new one will be amazing but not until September) and help us recruit people for the fall road tour.

peace.

Pray With Gulu

Austin, Cary and I met a woman they call “Mama Shekinah” in Gulu. Her spirit mesmerizes you like the Pied Piper.

Hedwig is from Paraguay, and she married Colin, a minister from Bermuda. Together they followed a call to serve the people of East Africa. While crossing the border of Sudan and Uganda a couple of years ago, their car was ambushed by child soldiers of the LRA. The soldiers barely spared her life and the life of the child she carried in her womb, but they mercilessly murdered Colin while she watched. As she held him, wearing his blood all over her body, she looked into the faces of the soldiers and noticed one was a girl.

In that moment Hedwig decided to forgive these soldiers. Two years later she and her daughter moved to that very region of Uganda so that she could be with and love the young girls who were abducted as LRA soldiers. She wanted them to feel the healing she received from forgiveness. So she lives in a home with and shares her life with a handful of young women—former child soldiers--and their children. Everyone affectionately calls her “Mama Shekinah” after the beautiful little girl in her womb when Colin died. She and Colin had already decided to name her Shekinah, which means “the settling presence of God” in Hebrew. Amen.

So I was thrilled this morning to receive an e-mail from Sarita, a young woman from the U.S. who lives and works with Mama Shekinah in a ministry called Zion Project. Her house and Mama Shekinah’s house work together to move towards healing. After our Pray With Africa visit to Mama Shekinah’s house, Serita decided to start asking the ladies for their prayer requests. They now have a sheet of paper on their wall to list their prayer requests and their answered prayers. They created a prayer schedule, also, for one of them to spend 30 minutes to one hour in prayer each day for their home and for each other.

Here is part of the message she sent to me today:

Answered Prayers

• Janet and Stella both got offered jobs at the best hotel in town. Stella got offered a position as a head cook, even though she's only been working there about a month and a half. :) Praise God for favor!


• Janet stood up to her ex boyfriend and has not been tempted to go back to him. She is spiritually hungry and growing every day.


• Two of my girls got to go to a counseling retreat for a week, this week. One for free. It will be hugely transformative for them.


• All my girls will be going to vocational school for free starting this month. Huge answer to prayer.

Requests

• Our house: More relationship with God and being filled with the holy spirit. More kingdom living. Expecting miracles. More peace unity and love between us....an end to ridiculous conflicts.


• Janet: that her ex-boyfriend will stop harassing her at work, for a bible, for her to perform well at her job.


• Florence Ayet--that she can finish her vocational studies well


• Stella---pray against anger and for more spiritual growth


• Florence--peace and love in the house as well as her studies


• Pauline--Patience, money for her classes and that she will study well


• Pamela--that her baby Maria will recover quickly from the illness she has had for two months


• Irene--patience, and her studies


• Josephine---for health for her and her baby so she can study well


• Sarita--more time with God, wisdom on how to handle house issues, patience and more abounding love of God; God's strategy for the future

And for Gulu: We long to see more miracles here and to see the pastors come together in love and unity and in relationship.

Also pray for the safety of the innocent abductees in the bush who are being targeted through the military offensive Operation Lightning Thunder which is supposed to force Kony to surrender but thus far has claimed the lives of over half a million people since December 14th. Read more.

Today I'm praying with these amazing women in Gulu. Pray with me.


When I met Pamela, one of the women with Sarita and Mama Shekinah, she asked me to pray that she might forgive the LRA soldier who raped her. Her daughter Maria is a real example of beauty from ashes; her "father" is the rapist.

Pray With Africa

My friend Will says, "My life is stupid!" when he thinks about how amazing and unbelievable some parts of his life seem. In Will's definition of "stupid," then, I must thank God for just how stupid my life is becoming.

In five weeks I'm going to Africa! I'll be there for six weeks, visiting six countries. I'm traveling the continent with my friends Cary and Austin, carrying our clothes, our camera and our pens and paper. We're collecting prayers of the people in each of the countries we're visiting and then bringing these prayers back to the United States, encouraging the world to stop praying for the people of Africa and, instead, join the the prayers they are already praying.

six beautiful countries
meeting hundreds of beautiful people
listening to hundreds of amazing prayers
for six amazing weeks

Yes, my life is stupid!

Here's our Pray With Africa video (featuring music by none other than k.s. Rhoads):

Pray With Africa


As I prepare for this journey--this pilgrimage of sorts--I invite you to pray with me.