rambling thoughts in the late summer twilight...

A grey cloud is over Lesotho in the gathering twilight of this late summer evening, hanging low over the plateaus. Thunder peals long and soft like tympanis in the distance and the lights begin to twinkle around Maseru. Fraaiuitzicht (which means “beautiful view”) I am sure had a beautiful outlook when the first small, stone house was set here over a century ago, but now most of what remains of the view towards the Caledon river and Lesotho is the ever stretching, slowly sprawling metropolis of Lesotho’s capital city. Still, if you like the lights of a city and the quiet of the country, the view—though hardly Times Square—is the proverbial, ‘best of both worlds.’

The quiet. The stillness here, as I think it is more aptly named, is deafening. I lie awake at night sometimes and if no ‘bumps in the night’ have set the dogs going, the silence literally roars in my ears. It is for me more unnerving than peaceful and yet at some point my mind becomes once more acclimated to it and I can sleep without noise. At this point I still need at least a fan and preferably music.

It’s strange that I dread the silence. Silence bares the soul and leaves our thoughts and desires naked to our introspective gaze. Its like having that dream come true where you are standing in the middle of your school or on a busy street corner and suddenly you look down you have no clothes on. It is not a matter of needing to hide anything, it is the same as that busy street corner or your school; everyone knows what is there, but you still don’t feel comfortable with it being scrutinized. I know, the analogy has gotten perhaps a little out of hand, but all the same; I have nothing to hide and yet I balk against self-scrutiny. Perhaps it is a part of looking on the finite side of the mirror that is now hazy and darkened, but then “face to face…”

When we shed this mortal coil what dreams may come, must give us pause .

It doesn’t seem to matter how much I think I know about God and eternity, the sheer vastness of Him and the void that is a timeless, and endless scope, leaves me feeling shaken and insignificant. C.S. Lewis said that we are like children pulling levers on a vast machine, unaware of what frightful consequences we may be enacting on the other side of eternity,

The days at the school allow no time for introspection. The quietest moment of the day is the few minutes of staff prayer before we open the doors and are over run with laughing, smiling faces (usually) that keep us occupied for the next several hours of our day. They are a joy, a vision of eternity in their limitless capacity for wonder, for discovery, for joy, for hurt, for loss and for disenchantment. Some of these children have already lived more hurt than I can fathom in my nearly 26 years on this earth. It slips out in little moments…a flash of anger, a look that breaks your heart, a flinch when you go to place a loving hand on their shoulder, or quietly sitting and crying at their desk sans explanation.

G.K. Chesterton said that part of God’s infinitude is manifested in a child’s ability to exult in the monotonous and every day we are reminded of this with endless games of tag and the same songs chosen for opening exercises. Their capacity for wonder and joy is truly limitless.

The town here has banks that truly hold to banker’s hours, coffee shops that close at four in the afternoon and a pace that moves as only Africa can. I don’t know if Africa is the land that time forgot or the land that just forgot about time, regardless, to the newly adapting American their complete lack of punctuality can be maddening. Once you settle into it, it becomes somewhat addicting and the thought of switching back to all-night Wal-Marts and 10 pm grocers seems ridiculous.

Well, I suppose that is all of the rambling thoughts I have for one evening. It’s time to eat and then I suppose sleep is next on the docket. Goodnight all.

I had a great day today; frenetic and fun. The students started off a little slow, but after a little jog and a little fun, they seemed to wake up and think. Today we had a lot of tests and other busy work, winding down to the end of the week. The school is based off a four day academic week (new from last time I was here) which means that Friday is a day set aside for extra-curricular activities (art class, p.e., etc.) which the government requires. What this means is that the days are very fast paced and on a tight schedule. This is actually nice since it makes the day go quicker.

I had several detentions today and so was there for awhile, grading papers and recording the information into the books and just doing the general admin that comes with the job. I was able to slip away around 3:30 pm, just in time to slip down to one of my favorite haunts, Living Life coffee shop. They were happy to see me and the hostess, Aunt Linda, and I just caught up and chatted. She couldn't believe that we had stores in the U.S. that were open 24 hours and you could just stop in anytime (Living Life closes at 4 pm).

I spent a little time running errands in town, jostling through crowded stores and dusty streets in the late summer heat. It was a warm, bouncing ride back to the farm where I did a little run with dogs and just relaxed. Well, enough play by play. I need to do some teacher "homework." Goodnight.

First post from Africa...

Africa welcomed me back with a warm mist that swirled around the silver-winged bird that had been my home for 14½ hours. The lush green landscape below me quickly succumbed to the geometric industrialization of factory yards and planned, government housing. The white clouds disappeared in a brown atmosphere that hangs in perpetual suspension over Johannesburg. God had brought me safely across the Atlantic once again.

I shouldered my carry-on bags and pushed through the controlled chaos of a disembarking planeload and walked through the halls of an airport I have greeted several times before. God graciously kept His hand on all my bags; then through the doors and to the welcoming smile of Uncle Johan and Joreth. The drive ahead was still a long and warm run through sunshine and green fields and a sky that only Africa can display.

I dozed and woke, spoke and slipped into a dreamless sleep once again as we moved closer and closer to home. I was struck by a singular realization; Africa did not feel novel to me. Had I somehow changed; had the picture remained constant, but the lens altered? I was home and it felt right. No, she was the same Africa with her dazzling skies, endless plains, phantasmagoric rock shapes and ghoulish cliff faces. It felt good to be back.

The silent company of partially unpacked cases in the corner and the air thick with mosquitos, my family on three different continents and I am on one little piece of God’s brilliant canvas known as Fraaiuitzicht. It is night in Africa and time to sleep. The night sounds chirp and rustle outside the windows and occasionally the dogs burst into a cacophony of discontent with something outside their vision.

Today was my first day back at the school. It was good to see familiar faces and a joy to meet new ones as well. Hectic and a little hot and ultimately very satisfying and fulfilling; it has been a great couple of days. Delani visited the farm over the weekend and then had to leave Sunday afternoon to drive the 500+ kilometers to her home. It was great to get to see her, even for such a short while.

There is school tomorrow and sickness on the farm tonight. Please pray that the Lord preserve my body from the “bug” that is going around. I need to be at the school tomorrow. Well, the dogs really started up again, it could be a long night. Goodnight all and God bless you. Please keep me in your prayers. I’ll try to post pictures and perhaps a little video when I get a better internet connection.

Today I...

I thought I would give everyone a little update on how things stand. Yes, I am still going to Africa. By this time I have sold, thrown out or given away about all that I am going to (except for three boxes outside my door yet to be dropped off). My room is looking empty, but on the bright side; rather clean. Tonight I begin packing on my cases, but stalling I am sitting here and typing instead.

Today was a busy day. I spent the morning with my parents; a luxury which I am soon to lose. We went to see my Dad's new flight training office in Fort Pierce and along the way we stopped and purchased my replacement camera since I had already sold the old one. Yes, the one that brought many pictures to facebook and made several photo books has just today been shipped to somewhere in Texas...God bless eBay! This afternoon I taught English 10 at the academy to complete requirements for a Clinical Educators certificate. Teaching cold turkey after a semester off with your former academic advisor in the back evaluating you is a bit of a fear inducing experience. I thought it went really well...then I saw the evaluation sheet. Let's just say there are a few areas to work on.

A lot has been changing in life. Last Saturday I said goodbye to my little sister and her husband as they left for South Korea. Sunday night I cried so hard my stomach hurt and my face muscles felt sore. Not a pretty sight and something I am not really used to, but I guess it had to come out sometime. I love my little sis and we always grew up close...the thought of her on the far side of the world was a little much to take in all at once, particularly when I am moving too. Oh well, enough sniffle stories.

It's packing time and I would much rather be upstairs talking to my parents, but this has to happen sometime and it may as well be now. I will hopefully be posting to the photo blog very soon. Africa pulls the photos out of me, it's rather involuntary. Thanks for all of you who read this and who will be reading my ramblings in Africa. Please keep in touch; it means the world when you're on the other side of it. Cheers.

withered hands and wild-eyed wonder...

I was in town shopping and the man in the check out line had a withered hand, drawn up in a half claw against his chest; more like a T-Rex fore claw than a man’s hand. My initial feeling was pride for the man because he was working; not allowing a disability, a physical setback to keep him from living life. He didn’t seem worried that people might stare at him, or might whisper when they walked past his checkout line.

However, when I got in the car and was driving down the road I suddenly thought about the story in the Bible where Jesus healed the man with the withered hand, in a synagogue, on the Sabbath day. It struck me just how visually astounding this miracle would have been. To see a man with this bent up, withered, claw-like hand, pull it out of his robe whole; muscled forearm and complete dexterity where twisted wreckage had been.

Then I thought of the Pharisees and that in the midst of this miracle, faced full on with wonder, the only thing they could think of was that it was the Sabbath and that this was somehow impermissible. No compassion, no love, no wonder. Their hatred for Jesus and their tenacious grappling for power and control left their hearts so shriveled that they had lost their sense of wonder.

No love, no compassion, no wonder…not even a whisper of excitement, of that childlike intensity and wild-eyed wonder at the seemingly impossible. They had lost the impetus in the search for truth and traded it for the form; traded sorrow for crepes and shrouds, joy for hollow laughter and banal jokes. It reminded me of what C.S. Lewis told us in “The Great Divorce” through the one of the Bright People, trying to reason with a Ghost who had lost all true reason in the pursuit of human wisdom.

“…Once you were a child. Once you knew what inquiry was for. There was a time when you asked questions because you wanted answers, and were glad when you had found them. Become that child again: even now.”

Jesus came to remind them of something written in their own Pentateuch. Deuteronomy 7:7-8:

“It was not because you were more in number than any other people that the LORD set his love on you and chose you, for you were the fewest of all peoples, (8) but it is because the LORD loves you…”

As I drove away and thought of that man with the lazy eyes and the withered hand, I thought of Christ and how he loves us so much that he reminds us time and time again by example to keep first things, first. As humans we seem predisposed towards the legal; towards a list that tells us we can do this and this and make it. We are objective creatures and indeed truth is by nature objective, but it is an objectivity beyond our control and that makes us nervous. The Pharisees wanted to autonomy and this new Truth (which was really Ageless) threatened their autonomy and so rather than see the wonder in the miraculous, the heart of a Father that SO LOVED THIS WORLD, they chose instead to plot and scheme behind closed doors and murder the Son of God.

BUT, do we not in our own way plot and scheme behind gilded doors of our souls and justify our actions and nullify our laws because we forget we did nothing to merit grace and can do nothing to maintain it? It is interesting is it not, that the sum of all commandments is wrapped in Love. On these hang ALL the law and the prophets.

counting a few blessings...

Since I last jotted down a few scattered thoughts, God has been working in my life and in the direction that He is taking me. I thought that perhaps this warranted an update. To be honest, I have wanted to update, but with camp on and my touch o' the Blarney stone, I tend to get home late after service, rather tired and no longer in the frame of mind necessary to blog. So, it is a beautiful, dripping February morning with air so think and moist that you nearly need a machete to hack your way from one building to the other; I'm inside and have a few moments so here it goes.

Blessing #1: I was able to sell quite a lot at the two yard sales that Jenny, Robert and I held. Although, to give credit where credit is due, they did most of the selling work and I am indebted. I am one of the world's worst salesmen and can talk myself down when the buyer would gladly pay more. So, my hat is off to them for helping me to part with some of my worldly goods and get a bit of money to help towards my move and future ministry as well as the ongoing expenses of life here.

Blessing #2: God provided me with work that took me down to Marathon Islands in the Keys every other day, it paid decent and it left me free to get more of my visa requirements done. I prayed for work and God answered in an abundance that I don't even have time to do; He takes care of His kids. As an added bonus, I got to drive across those bridges each morning and look out over a beautiful Caribbean scene at sunrise; it was breathtaking.

Blessing #3: I was praying that my tax return would bring some funds and had a figure in my mind that I thought would be nice (I don't do my own taxes so it's always a surprise). God provided a number that blew mine away several times and made me want to hug the first person I saw after I opened the envelope. That money will hopefully help towards a vehicle when I arrive in South Africa.

Blessing #4: Camp has been a blessing. If you are thinking of going to the mission field or if you are already slated to do so, there is no better crowd to commission you than the Seabreeze Camp crowd. I think many of them are more excited about the ministry than I confess I have been. Many have already told me that they will be praying and this is a wonderful knowledge.

There are many, many more blessings that I could recount, as I am sure all of us could. The greatest is the grace of God and the sacrifice of His Son, Jesus Christ. Without that I would not even be writing these posts or stressing about moving to Africa. He is working on me and teaching more about Himself and I ask any of you who read this to pray for me in this end. I need to show Christ to those school children and I cannot do that well unless I truly know Him myself.

These thoughts are perhaps a bit disjointed and I have no doubt in my haste I have misspelled a word here or there or perhaps made an awkward sentence, but thank you for reading anyway. Those with accounts, feel free to comment or talk with me on here; the company will be lovely when I'm overseas. Also, if you would like to get a newsletter from me, please send me your email address or just a quick note to jehoward42@gmail.com. I'd love to hear from you.

he laid down his guns...

I sat today in the back of a church and looked at small man lying in a box.

He was 101 years old when he passed away.

The most I was around him in life was the few times I rose in the early, damp dawn and slipped down to the church to pray. He was already 99 or 100 then, but he was there, faithfully every morning. I remember seeing him in the darkness of the sanctuary, the only light coming from the platform and that not quite reaching him, his hands in the air for an unbelievably long time (longer than I could have held mine outstretched) speaking to his Friend of nearly a century.

In a way I envied him in that box. I start and stop and fall and God picks me up and dusts my skinned knees and whispers to me to do better. So, in some sense I envied him for where he was, that he no longer had to worry about the cares of life, but perhaps more in an ephemeral sense, that his work in this life was done and he had been ready; really, longing to "lay down his guns" and enter into rest.

"Be still, my soul..." the words have been playing and playing today. I have a long way to go, but I want to follow Lee Carroll's example and "...bear patiently, my cross of grief and shame." I find an increasing tendency to laziness and the comforts of this life and it frightens me. I want more than anything to do great things for God.

"No soldier gets entangled in civilian pursuits, since his aim is to please the one who enlisted him." II Timothy 2:4