Death and Life

Yesterday we visited two of the hundreds of genocide memorials that dot the Rwandan countryside. It was a necessary part of our visit here to help us understand and remember what people went through, what people did to strangers and neighbors.

Both sites we visited were Catholic churches. In the years leading up to the events of 1994, there was a series of attacks. At that time, people would flee for refuge in churches and find haven there. In April of '94, the strategy was to wait for people to gather in churches and slaughter them there. The first site we visited was a grave for 6000, the second for 5000. I found myself taking pictures of the horror, using the camera as a buffer between myself and the pain.

NEVER AGAIN read the sign outside one of the buildings. That is our hope, but it already happening again... in the Sudan and in other places around the world.

On our return to Kigali, we were greeted with happy news. On this same day that we chose to remember so many deaths, a new life was just beginning. Cy Shelby, 6 lbs even, is the newest member of the team of missionaries working in Kigali.

Like a phoenix from the ashes, new life springs up in the place of death. And hope for a better future is born.

Love in Any Language

We sat next to John on Sunday morning and he passed us notes throughout the sermon to interpret what was being said. His translations were well-worded and thought provoking.

The preacher spoke at an impossible pace in Kinyarwandan. Every millionth word, John wrote a short note. The preacher's not a full-time church worker. He spends his weeks working for a Christian organization training people to pray intercessory prayers for Rwanda.

His message, in a nutshell, was this:

Jesus did not wait until he was on the cross to pray. He gathered his disciples with him and prayed before the time of trouble arrived. We must not wait until we are desperate for help before we start talking to God. Now is the time to begin.

Heart of the City

The center of African life is the marketplace. Whether an outdoor market with piles of beans and vegetables and fruit, like this one, or the big new supermarkets like Naccumat, people meet and interact where commerce takes place.

At the market, I was once again surprised by the difference between the people of Rwanda and those of Togo. For the most part, I was allowed to wander through the market, looking, smelling, even taking pictures without being disturbed.

Down in the tourist end of the market, vendors beckoned, but didn't press. No one shoved carvings in my face or begged me not to steal food from their children's mouths by refusing to buy from them.

Long tables stacked with food, piles of banana stalks, floor-to-ceiling booths of household goods - the market scene can't be too different from what Jesus encountered in the temple courtyard. He lashed out in anger for he saw the hearts of men and the ways they had turned away from true worship. I wonder what he sees when he looks into the hearts of people here... or (for that matter) into my heart.

By the Bootstraps

One of the most remarkable things about Rwanda is how much progress it is making toward taking care of itself. Granted, there are a lot (I mean a LOT) of NGOs and foreign aid programs here. Many of them focus on vulnerable women, others on orphans of the genocide. World Vision, Unicef, Save the Children - if you can name an aid organization, they are probably here.

These ladies are making the baskets that are sold at Macy's all across the U.S. They do beautiful handiwork and are learning a skill that will serve them well. Others are learning sewing skills, others English, and a huge population is working on mastering computer programming, hoping to make Rwanda the technology center of the continent.

The streets are spotless here and the appearance of things seems to be of utmost importance. It is impossible to see in only a few days whether the facade is hiding another reality, but I see in the eyes of the people a great reserve, even sadness.

At this basket shop, I met a woman from near my hometown. She has been building schools here for several years and she had this to say: "Don't plan things that are too easy. You need to dream up impossible dreams, for the people of Rwanda have proved time and time again that they can pull off the impossible."

First Impressions

The city of Kigali is set on a series of hills which divert both traffic and rainclouds in confusing patterns from here to there. Main roads are wide and nice, cobbled roads are serviceable and neighborhood roads remind me that this is still Africa. Rutted red dirt paths wreak havoc on shock absorbers, if you’re lucky enough to have any.

Rain fell yesterday, a light lazy day rain in early afternoon that pattered against the corrugated tin roof next door… a heavier cloudburst in the later afternoon that sent us racing for the car and made the school kids smell like a tumbling litter of wet puppies. Today's rain didn't waste time on sprinkling. We had to shout to make ourselves heard under the metal roof of the ATN (Africa Transformation Network).

We spent the morning at the ATN office where Louise co-teaches a quilting class. They are in the beginning stages of imagining and planning how to best transfer skills to the ladies who come that will add value to the skills they already have. In other words, the class is supposed to give them a new, more readily marketable skill. In this case, they’re teaching quilting in the hopes that the ladies will be able to make a sell quilts. The ideal would be to create a market among Rwandans and not depend on tourist money, but they’re not there yet.

Between Two Worlds

Amsterdam's snow is left behind and the African sky stretches ahead. Even suspended at 35,000 feet above Ethiopia, with the dry landscape shrouded under a blanket of clouds, I wonder at the sunset, a thin strip of orange that deepens to red then blue then black. The first stars appear and then, the Southern Cross.

Waves of emotion wash over me as I realize this trip is real. My sandals will soon tread through the red soil of a continent that is as much a part of me as the blood in my veins.

When I step off the plane into the jetway at the Nairobi airport, I am greeted by the faint smells of human sweat and duty free liquor. I pull my roller bag through the narrow arced corridor, purposely slowing my steps to match those around me. No one is in a hurry here.

I wait for my flight, letting the sounds of a dozen languages wash past me. My ears perk up at the music of language that could be English, but isn't. It's not important for me to understand, though. They're not speaking to me.

No one knows me here.

Leavin' on a Jet Plane

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go...

Excited? Yes.

Nervous? A little.

Ready? You betcha.

The hardest part about leaving? I'll miss my kids.

But I'll be back, full of stories and hope and experiences and dreams for God's people around the world.

Check back every few days for updates and photos.

In Business

It's official! I'm up and running on my new nook, thanks to my family who gave it to me for Christmas and my dad (who shall remain nameless) who gave me an ebook gift card to get me started.

First official downloads?

Anne of Green Gables

The Holy Bible (NIV)

Notre Dame de Paris

Food Rules

Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

I'm nothing if not eclectic.

Help Me Make Lemonade

If you're in my email address book, you know that my account was hacked this week. The thief took over my gmail account and my facebook account in order to scam money out of my friends. Please tell me you didn't send any. It's been a long few days trying to get back as much information as I can. I've lost my entire contact list and will have to rebuild it over time. It appears he also got hold of my credit card number, so that's another little mess to clean up. After I get everything fixed, I'll post a blog on how to protect yourself better. I've learned a lot.

The hacker's note read to the effect that I was held up at gunpoint in London and would you please wire me $1500 so I can get home.

The irony is, I've been trying to figure out the best way to ask people to send $1500, not for myself but for some missionary friends who have a specific need right now. I didn't ask because... well, frankly... I was embarrassed. I feel like I've asked for a lot and that people must be getting tired of me reminding them to turn in their missions pledges or give towards a certain cause. Well, now I'm really embarrassed because all of you got bothered by someone using my name and my address.

I'm not saying that God hacked into my accounts. Not unless he has a phone number in Nigeria. I don't think he works like that. But I do know he can redeem bad situations to use for good.

So here's my idea:

Instead of sending your money to a scam artist, why not put it towards a good cause? You might have heard that the dollar is not doing so well overseas. For missionaries who depend on the dollar, it means their spending power has been dramatically cut. Our friends in Brazil, Ben and Juliana Roberts, find themselves unable to afford a lot of things, but their most immediate need is to provide education for their boys. They've had to pull their two sons from school because of the expense. They would like to homeschool, but Brazil only allows home education if it's done through an accredited institution.

For Juliana to teach her boys at home using the Calvert school, it will cost them $1500 for the year.

Instead of wiring money to England or wherever, why not drop a check in the mail?

Make it out to Cloverdale Church of Christ and earmark it for the Roberts' education fund.

Mail it to:

Cloverdale Church of Christ

3000 E. Park Ave

Searcy, AR 72143

If you want, leave an anonymous comment telling how much you'll send so we can all keep tabs. Help me redeem my crummy week by being a blessing to someone in need.

Help me make some lemonade.

A Must Read

I don't have the Koonce family blog in my blogroll but I'll be adding it soon. Marty just wrote a series of posts about his recent trip to Togo that are encouraging, exciting, and - as he says - surprising. Scroll down to January 10 and read to the top and join me in praising God for people like Papa Koffi and Hammer and Ablavino and Bertain (formerly Houndzo).

Koonce Family Blog

Dragon Party Time

I always feel like I've accomplished something when I pull off a birthday party. Our house is small and with 11 kids over on a rainy day, feels even smaller. Look at that smile, though. It was worth every minute.
This year's theme: dragons (a compromise of sorts since the birthday girl figured boys wouldn't enjoy a Hannah Montana party - nice of her to consider their feelings).

For those of you who are looking for dragon party ideas of your own, here's what worked for us.

I made dragon wings for each child out of felt so I didn't have to sew the edges. The wings velcro on with ribbon at wrists and neck. Note to self: sew the velcro on better next time.

Each child was given an egg with a dragon inside to take care of for the whole party. They were instructed not to open the eggs. (eggs from Dollar Tree, dragons from Joann's Crafts)

Activities:

Build a dragon out of legos

Make an origami dragon

Dragon egg relay (where the kids race with their dragon egg in a spoon down the hall. Each kids used his own egg and tried not to drop it. We made it harder on the older ones by making them go backwards)

Treasure hunt - I filled a "treaure chest" with bags of treasure goodies - candy necklaces, silver kisses and gold chocolate coins). I made really simple clues on index cards like "Mirror, Mirror on the wall." The kids ran to find the clue but before they cold open it, they had to perform a task (count to 100, do 10 sit-ups, spell their name out loud, etc.) to make the game last longer. The treasure hunt was a huge hit and hilariously funny to see a mob figuring out the clues and working together.

Refreshments:

Dragon cake from Family Fun

Dragon Breath punch (ginger ale, cranberry juice and orange juice in a bowl, set in a bowl of dry ice) The kids could blow in between the bowls to make the smoke come out. Note to self: no need to add ice to the punch, the dry ice froze it solid by the end of the party.

Decorations:

We happen to own every plastic dragon ever made, so the kids went to work hanging them from hooks and light fixtures. Stuffed dragons on the table and that was about it.

For thank you cards, we took a picture of each child sitting on a large stuffed animal. One of my older kids has drawn a picture of a dragon and is going to photoshop each child onto the dragon to send on individualized cards.

Back in the Nest

The fledgling has returned, a little older, a little wiser, and immensely proud of herself. And well she should be. She spent a week away from home, managed to wake up at 6:30 a.m. five days in a row (a miracle for a homeschooler), and proved she can keep up with the rest by earning an A+ in her legislative classes.

My job's not over yet, not by a long shot, but I'm realizing that it's in transition. This is the time to encourage and guide, to offer challenges, to encourage her to seek out her interests and cheer her on in her pursuits.

It's time to back off the nit-picking and trust her to figure out the small stuff on her own.

Letting go. I think this is the hardest job yet.

How Did I Miss This?

I've been to Lyon a few times and have seen many of the wonderful places the city has to offer from the Cathedral of Saint Jean-Baptiste to the old city to the Roman ruins, it's a fantastic place to explore and discover. Besides that, it's the gateway city to the Savoie region, one of the most beautiful places God made.

But how did I miss this - the Bal des Argents bookstore in Lyon? You've seen a cathedral, you've seen 'em all. But a bookstore? Everyone holds a different trove of treasures waiting to be discovered.

Doesn't it look like the magical kind of place where you could get lost for ages and not even mind?

*photo taken from flickr.com and featured on The Most Interesting Bookstores in the World.

Fledgling

One of my kids is taking a big step into the world tomorrow. I find as a mama bird that I'd love to have all my little chickies hang out in the nest and eat home cooking for a long time. They're getting big, though, and jockeying for position on the edge of the nest, ready to try their wings.

One week as a senate page at the state capitol. I wonder what she'll be like when she comes back to the nest. I bet her wings will be a little stronger.

Who Sinned?

May I just say that Pat Robertson is not my mouthpiece? I do not believe that the people of Port au Prince deserved this earthquake any more than the people of New Orleans deserved Katrina or the people of Thailand and Indonesia deserved the tsumamis.

Isn't it bad enough to suffer without the world laying the blame on your shoulders? While I do believe there are consequences to sin, I don't see the good of placing blame. It reminds me of the blind man in John chapter 9.

"Who sinned, this man or his parents?" the apostles asked Jesus.

"Neither this man nor his parents," Jesus replied, "This happened so the work of God might be displayed in his life... While I am in the world, I am the light of the world."

The apostles saw the blind man, in his suffering, as an abstract example of how sin and punishment are connected. They could ask Jesus a question about whether the fault lay with the blind man or with his parents, listen to the answer and walk on to ask another question without ever really seeing the man in question.

Jesus saw him though. He saw him as a man who needed God, a man who needed healing.

Let's not sit around trying to decide whose fault the earthquake was or why a country that has already endured so much must endure even more. Let's do what Jesus did - heal the hurting. Let's be what he was - light to the world.

The Cartridge Fairy

I ran out of yellow ink yesterday. There was no spare, which meant a trip to the store to get a new one. Only the store we were at was all out and I didn't feel like chasing around town to find one.

We'd just have to live without.

So, every print job yesterday involved pushing print, then standing up and walking around to the computer to confirm that I really, truly did intend to print without yellow ink.

This morning when I came to my computer desk, an empty cartridge wrapper was sitting on the shelf where the printer sits. Nearby, in the IN box, was a yellow printer cartridge, unwrapped. I went down the family line to find out who knew anything about this mysterious appearance.

No one.

I ran a test page. The printer said "No Yellow Ink," so I popped in the other cartridge, the mystery one, to check and see. It's brand new.

I guess the cartridge fairy came last night. I hope she comes again.

Hands Free!

Nothing makes me feel more secure on the road than the woman I saw driving today with a cell phone in one hand and cigarette in the other.

Rudeness

I was in a store tonight and was struck by the fact that a disproportionate number of people were rude. They parked their carts crosswise in the aisle so no one could pass. They pulled in front of me and then stopped suddenly. They left their carts along one side of the aisle and stood on the other side.

I wasn't in a hurry, but if I was, I would have been furious. What happened to common courtesy?

It's not fair to throw the generation out with the bath water, I know. Not everyone is rude. In fact most people are downright nice a lot of the time. It's just that all the pills seemed to be gathered in the middle of the aisles I needed to go down tonight.

I try not to be rude. I try really hard. But even I have my moments of disrespect. A few weeks ago I stood in a long line waiting to pay for one item. I got up toward the front of the line and, when a cashier called "NEXT!" I went to the register.

Another woman walked up behind me. "I was in front of you," she said.

She might have been. She probably was, but I honestly didn't see her there. I should have stepped aside and let her go first, but I didn't. I only had one thing. I was so flustered, though, that by the time the clerk went to hand me my receipt, I snatched it out of his hand and bolted from the store.

I'm sorry lady in front of me. I didn't mean to cut you off. I'm sorry cashier dude. I was embarrassed and I just wanted to get away. But I shouldn't have been inconsiderate. I'm sorry people in the aisles tonight. I shouldn't care more about reaching the Splenda and the shirts than I do about what kind of night you are having.

birthday boy

Once upon a January

On a day Familiary

A young couple birthed the firstborn son they had been waiting for.

He grew up his hair so curly

People thought he was a girly.

As a teen he was a burley surfer on the L.A. shore

Singer in a group of four

Single then, but not no more.

Went to college, did some scoping,

Found a girl (as he'd been hoping)

Didn't need no cattle roping to get her down the wedding aisle.

Got a job and had a child

Headed north into the wild

in a car with luggage piled

Mile after dusty mile

And they stayed for quite a while.

Teaching, fishing, sons and daughter

In a city made of water

happy as a playful otter raised his family in the rain.

Kids grew up, he was retired

found some land that he desired

planted trees and was inspired

his small orchard to maintain

and all his loved ones entertain.

Now we celebrate a new year

with a song and with a no-teir

cake (we're eating healthy for another week or more)

Soon enough we all with gather

on a trip to honor father

there's no person we would rather

Wish a happy birthday for

Happy day and many more!

Walkabout

My brother (the one who can't stand to sit inside when there's a perfectly good outdoors waiting to be used) has been here for the past two weeks. We've been going walkabout.

I see so much more when I walk than when I'm in the car - tiny buds of pussy willows threaten to burst out despite the fact winter has barely begun. Moles and geese share the fields, one below ground and one above. Chickadees and juncos chirp out empty threats from the safe shelter of their bushes. White and green and blue and yellow and red Christmas lights illuminate trees and houses and woven creatures that I think are supposed to be deer. Frosty fog hangs in the air as long as it can before it falls to the ground as a gauzy white blanket.

He's gone home now, so I'll have to walk on my own if I'm going to walk. Wanna go with me? We'll see all sorts of things we've been missing.