Aroboya! (thank you)

From Thursday:

Thank you for your prayers thus far. I am happy to be writing to you from home, Mundri, S. Sudan. Travel here went without a hitch and my first day was not too terribly hot. Yesterday was a little warmer (105 inside), but Larissa (my teammate and housemate) and I had a great time greeting in the market and doing some shopping for the singles' food supply. I can't get over how different it is here as compared to Bundibugyo, Uganda where I spent my last term. More on that later.

market remarks:

- "she looks like the wife of Michael" (aka Karen Masso - our team leaders)

- "she has a body that looks like mine - it is fat" (great, thanks, it's good to meet you too :) (actually is a compliment coming from an African...)

- "thank you for coming, we don't have enough people working there (at the health center) our children are dying."

- "Thanks be to God for bringing you here."

- "We hope God brings even more of you to come help us here."

- and then the best was the "ay yi yi"s and huge smiles and hand shakes they gave Larissa when I managed to greet them and tell them my name when they asked in Moru :) it's the little things :)

Aroboya to God for his timing as well. Yesterday, the youngest member of our team, Gaby Masso (9 1/2) was pretty sick. Fever, vomiting, and add those things to the heat and you have a recipe for a dehydrated disaster. After making my first consult call to Jennifer Myhre in Kenya (former team leader, friend, and the pediatrician I worked with in Uganda) to ensure I was thinking through things correctly and to check on the correct volume for a fluid bolus, etc., last night I put an IV in the very brave little guy and gave him a bolus of IV fluid. Checked in on him in the middle of the night, flushed his IV to make sure it would be patent this morning if we needed to use it, and thankfully this morning, things have improved a bit. His belly still hurts a lot, so please pray for him to be back to his usual 9 1/2 year old boy energetic self :) Thankful to be able to be here when it happened, and slightly intimidated by the task of being the one to make health decisions like these. Thankful there are doctors and friends, people who *really* know what they're doing, just a phone call away :)

Will write more soon, hopefully, but wanted you all to know I was here in one piece.

Update: Saturday 25 February

Gaby is doing much better. He got 4 boluses over the course of 3 days and this morning is up and around on his own a little more, talking and laughing a bit more and looking more and more bright eyed every day.

I am every day learning a few more words in Moru, slowly by slowly as they say. The first day I was headed to the market and almost felt like I was going to hyperventilate with fear and intimidation about the task of language learning ahead of me. Larissa prayed and we headed out. Since, God has been gracious and I have been more content with the "slowly by slowly" approach to taking on just a few new things everyday, or just reviewing the things from the day before...just putting one foot in front of the other instead of putting my head up and trying to see the next 12 months out in front of me.

hopefully I'll take some pictures around our compound and town in the next week and get them up for you to see for yourself a bit of where I am.

T-1

Well, tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow I fly into S. Sudan.

Hard to believe the time has come, and simultaneously feels like it's about time!

I'm ready to settle down after 2 months on the go. I'm excited to see my WHM Mundri friends and family. I'm excited to meet the S. Sudanese that will become my Mundri friends and family as well. I'm nervous about starting over in a new place. New language(s), new team, new way of life, new climate, new culture, new everything.

Nope, nix that. Not new everything. There is one thing that is the same. My God. Yesterday, today and tomorrow, He is the same.

On the flight from Philly to, well, what was supposed to be to London and ended up being to Amsterdam, I put my ear buds in and listened to my iPod for a bit before drifting off for a bit of sleep. When embarking on new things, I often like to listen to music that is rooted in my past, music that reminds me of my history, where God has brought me from, how faithful He is. We didn't listen to much Christian music growing up, but we did listen to James Ward. I have one of his albums on my iPod and the tears started to flow on the plane when Rock of Ages came up in the queue.

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,

let me hide myself in thee;

let the water and the blood,

from thy wounded side which flowed,

be of sin the double cure;

save from wrath and make me pure.

Not the labors of my hands

can fulfill thy law's commands;

could my zeal no respite know,

could my tears forever flow,

all for sin could not atone;

thou must save, and thou alone.

Nothing in my hand I bring,

simply to the cross I cling;

naked, come to thee for dress;

helpless, look to thee for grace;

foul, I to the fountain fly;

wash me, Savior, or I die.

While I draw this fleeting breath,

when mine eyes shall close in death,

when I soar to worlds unknown,

see thee on thy judgment throne,

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,

let me hide myself in thee.

Nothing in my hands I bring, simply to the cross I cling. Rock of Ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee.

The other anthem for this phase of life is this old Spiritual I grew up singing:

I want Jesus to walk with me:

I want Jesus to walk with me;

all along my pilgrim journey,

Lord, I want Jesus to walk with me.

In my trials, Lord, walk with me;

in my trials, Lord, walk with me;

when my heart is almost breaking,

Lord, I want Jesus to walk with me.

When I’m in brouble, Lord, walk with me;

when I'm in trouble, Lord, walk with me;

when my head is bowed in sorrow,

Lord, I want Jesus to walk with me.

The Spiritual Emphasis speaker at the CMDA conference in Kenya kept saying, "If you remember one thing, remember that before your feet hit the ground in the morning, ask God, "Can I walk with you today?'" I suppose I do agree that life is more about us walking with God than Him walking with us, but you get the idea, right? Me and God. Walking the roads of S. Sudan together. A friend in Philly had the same image as she prayed for me. Seems like a good one.

Coveting your prayers.

"we are diverting to Amsterdam"

ahhhhh, international air travel. I love it. I really do. the people watching in airports that can tell you so much about a place, the figuring out how to maneuver to where you want to be in airports you've never been in, the anticipation of what movies you might get on this particular flight, leaving your luggage at the ticket counter and not having to pick it up until you reach your destination, the complimentary mini bottles of wine :) love it.

truth be told, however, I'm really not much of a fan of my plans being changed. But, TIA so I've had to get used to it. And it's actually a lot easier for me, when I know I really have absolutely nothing I can/could have done to avoid it.

So, 6.5 hours to London on Saturday night. My lovely sister had dropped me off, helped me get my luggage to the counter, and even rearranged/ditch things for later delivery when the pieces were, of course, overweight...risking coming VERY close to getting her first ticket on the car that was just moments into being in her care...crying with me as I hugged the last of my stateside people before heading off to yet another life...she rocks...but back to the 6.5 hours to London.

I read the first half of my first library loaned Kindle book - The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time...great book, by the way, but more on that for another time...I ate food, drank a glass of red wine with my lasagna, and attempted to watch Moneyball but drifted to sleep - finally pulling out my red inflatable (yes, inflatable) fleece neck pillow that's amazing for just a time as this - and got maybe an hour of shut eye before it was time to eat again and get ready to land...or so we thought.

Our captain announced that our landing at Heathrow would be delayed for at least a half hour due to bad weather (mist and a bit of snow) in London. no problem. Next announcement about a half our later - "Heathrow has closed and we are diverting to Amsterdam"...hm. the next several announcements were harried messages from the head bursar on the flight who was obviously totally unsure as to what the plan was for all of us and feeling a bit pressured by that...

well, long story made short, when we got off the plane, we were instructed by a BA staff person which baggage claim to reclaim our luggage from and then which ticket counter to go to in order to find out how we would eventually reach our final destination. It turned out there were approximately 3 other jumbo jets full of people coming from such places as Bangkok and Sao Paulo, who were told the same thing. This makes for a long line. A VERY long line. But I get ahead of myself.

You will note that we were told to reclaim our luggage. In the end, this was the WORST part of the ordeal. I had a LOT of luggage. 5 years worth, to be exact. Including a bike box. I wasn't sure I was going to get it all onto one trolley, and was imagining how in the world me myself and I was going to manage 2 luggage trolleys...well, it all fit on one trolley. just barely. the bike box was perched on the outside edge, lying horizontally...well, that didn't really fit through the doorways so I had to turn it so that it rested vertically on the edge...but that in fact was impossible for me to see over, soooooo imagine me maneuvering this luggage trolley with approximately 300 pounds of luggage through the Amsterdam airport peering around each side every few seconds and proceeding VERY slowly so as not to mow anything or anyone down in the process...sheesh. Only once did I lose the bike box off the front of the trolley and luckily no one was injured in the process!

I managed to make my way very slowly to the ticket counter where I waited with all the others from my flight. We were on the first or second of the 4 or so international flights with BA that arrived unexpectedly and that meant we got to the front-ish of the line. I still waited about 4 hours in that line...and the people at the back of the line...I'm not even sure they made it to the counter before midnight....they had at least 12 hours of waiting ahead of them, and that's only to find out WHAT your new travel plan was - which may well include a lot more waiting. 2 lonely, strung out BA people at the counter trying to rebook 4 flights worth of people to their correct destinations. They deserved an award...but instead got mostly hateful looks from angry passengers...

My rebooking included BA putting me up in an airport hotel overnight and getting out on a KLM flight in the morning to Entebbe by way of Kigali. There was no skating on the canals of Amsterdam as my dad imagined, only conking out for a night of sleep in a hotel room that looked like an IKEA catalog :) The flight was smooth in the end and even better movie arrangements! It's the important things, you know? :)

I arrived at MAF guesthouse in Kampala without a hitch, but alas, there was no power. A shower by candlelight and a bed was just fine with me, and waking to do final packing and heading to the airport again to head to Kenya the next morning meant a short night.

But here I am in Kenya and the rest is history! Thankful to be here and see some of "my people"...old teammates and new, and learn a bit more about this endeavor that awaits me in S. Sudan!

paying the biggest price?

Moms. Hands down. It's the toughest job on the planet I think.

I just had to say goodbye to mine...for a long time...not easy. But harder for her.

It's my humble opinion that in this missionary endeavor, mom's pay the biggest price, and might I even dare say, in life in general?

It's a tall order, grow a human being inside of yourself. Bring it to life "on the outside," provide it what it needs to sustain life independently from you, and then eventually watch them make decisions for themselves and how they will sustain/maintain their own life *on their own* whether you approve or not, ushering them out into the world, wishing you could protect them from harm but knowing you can't....having to watch as they make mistakes, creating their own opportunities for harm, in addition to watching them endure harm from others by no fault of their own...hoping that they are strong and courageous and then having to endure the ramifications of the risk inherent in actually being strong and courageous...or so it seems...

sending your child away, no matter how old they are, to another part of the world, no matter where that is, is heart wrenching I think...that same child you once attempted to provide for and protect, now totally outside of your realm of influence...instead, you do what? you learn to pray. Maybe this is how so many women become such people of prayer...

For my mom, physical danger is not really the concern that it is for most mom's...she is more concerned about the emotional toll, the challenges of the heart she knows are waiting for me on the other side of the pond. She's right. It's not a question of whether or not they will be waiting, it is a matter of when exactly I will meet them. And they will be heavy. She knows the weight of heart heavy things, and she longs for the day when she, and those she loves will be free of them. Me too.

More than dads. More than friends. More than siblings. It's hardest on moms.

In any case, here's to mom's of missionaries and the prices they pay! Here's to their prayers of faith and hope and sometimes desperation. Here's to the day when goodbyes will no longer be necessary! Here's to my mom! I love you!

goodbyes

...started tonight. But this time around, in the shadow of the news of a good family friend who yesterday lost a baby that was almost full term...cord tied in a knot. The sickening feeling during the trip to the ER with no movement from the little one inside...the world shattering news of no heartbeat. the painful and grief filled ordeal of the labor of a stillborn baby girl. Her name is Darcy. Her dear mom and dad held her and said goodbye, before they even had a chance to say hello...I can't even begin to imagine.

Oh how thankful I am to have had the opportunity to know, to be with, to be known by, to laugh with, to cry with those that I will say goodbye to this week and next. What an honor and privilege this life is...this life of hellos and goodbyes. They are meant to be experienced in that order. And each one is a gift.

So, as I mourn the loss of the daily presence of my dear brother, of dear friendships, I am reminded to also rejoice in the gift of the time I have been given with them. As I grieve in my goodbyes, I also grieve with my friends, these friends and many others, in their deep loss of even a hello.

hit the ground running

hm. how'd that happen? yesterday I was up until about now packing for 3 weeks in Colorado...training and skiing. sweaters and balaclava's. this evening I landed on a Southwest flight back in foggy St. Louis, arrived home, dropped those bags back on the floor and within the hour began the 3 loads of laundry from the 3 weeks of travel...or at least it seems that way. where in the world did the last 3 weeks go?!?!

tonight was a flurry of activity here in the Lutjens' residence on Etzel. I stepped foot on the ground here in Missouri and back into my preparations for Africa and Jeff stepped back into preparations for Haiti. It's kinda nice not to be the only one preparing to leave the country :) I was setting aside skirts and sandals and cookbooks, printing financial documents, packing up school books and ski clothes. The Giants - 49ers game was on in the living room as Jeff made trips out to the back yard to burn confidential/personal papers that had been accumulating, paying bills, printing travel documents and instructions, investigating photo transfer options, and somewhere in the mix there was a "dinner" of sorts...

one more week in St. Louis. Strange mix of daunting ("how in the world did the time fly by?" and "oh my goodness will everything get done?" and "oh dear, the goodbyes.") and relieving ("let's get this show on the road!" and "I can't wait to have all these details taken care of, decisions made, things packed, and just get there already!").

The old spiritual comes to mind -

"I want Jesus, to walk with me...all along my pilgrim journey,
Lord I want Jesus, to walk with me..."

"your brain is bigger than you think!"

On a blustery and snowy day in Colorado, this is the view out the window where I am writing from. My favorite time of day = dusk, and the mountains and the snow are magnificent and mysterious. Language is also magnificent and mysterious - and the exact purpose for which I am here. "So how's your Juba Arabic coming?" you might ask. It isn't. "So you're doing what for 2 weeks?"

PILAT = Program In Language Acquisition Techniques

We are not learning a language, we are learning how to learn a language. Still vague? fricatives and stops and flapped r's vs. trilled r's - was that a voiceless K or a G? low to mid tone or mid to high? Put this picture of a potato on top of the picture of a frying pan and mimic the sentence your helper has said in Hindi for "I fry the potato." Then put the picture of "you" on top of the potato on top of the frying pan and mimic the sentence your helper gives you for "you fry the potato." And on and on. Lots of phoenetics - learning to make new sounds, learning to hear the often very subtle differences in sounds made in other languages - in other words: ear training. Or learning to listen and glean from your language helper what order words go in a sentence by simply listening to several different versions of very similar sentences: method training. Oh, the word for "give" that I just used in your language is insulting in this context? Hm, that's what the dictionary told me to say, but let me see if I can understand what the feeling/sense of this word for "give" is as compared to another word you might have for "give"...you mean you have 7 words for give? oh, you mean pants and trousers are different here? :)

It's exhausting, its fascinating, it's intriguing, it's frustrating...it's good.

One of the biggest things the program thus far has accomplished for me is helping me realize just how big the wall I've built between me and language learning is. "I'm never going to really be able to communicate with the woman I find myself sitting next to in church in Mundri. It's going to be so hard to find a language helper, and I'm never going to be able to structure my time or be disciplined enough to do this well, I'm going to get frustrated and resign myself to situations in which I can get by in english."

That's where this phrase about the surprising size of your brain comes in. It really has been surprising how much I can retain from one step to the next in these projects we're being exposed to. It has been surprising how many new sounds I can learn to make with my mouth. It has been surprising to realize that I haven't lost my intrigue with words, with communicating, with the puzzle that is another language. I am encouraged. And I hope to plaster these phrases of encouragement around my dukul in Mundri (hope that's okay, Larissa!) so as not to despair when it gets really hard and I don't seem to be making any progress. If I go into this endeavor with my mind made up that I will fail, I will fail. Lord knows, I don't want to fail.

"Lord give me grace in this. And help me trust you to do it."

~ Learn another language. Gain another soul. ~