Category Archives: Capturing Courage Abroad

As we travel we write about the experiences, the quirky sides, the profound moments and all manner of thoughts and lessons in between – Enjoy!

Thanks Lord

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P1260776 compressedI’ve stayed over in the village, settled in my bed, the talking finally stopped, and now the singing and dancing has begun outside, and I am so tired I just want to cry.

And tomorrow, I’m on deck, for two or three sessions of Spiritual Development and life-giving prayers that sap the energy from me as God’s power pours through.

It has been a hard few days.

The bulk of the work has begun, and in the midst I can’t see heads nor tails.

I’ve been reminded that once we enter the fray, we are either ready or not.

We have either done our homework beforehand, or we will be found wanting in the midst.

Once the work starts, we’d better hope that we have our heads screwed on straight.

It is a bit (okay maybe a lot) like flying blind.

It’s as though I’ve entered the darkness and can’t see my hand in front of my face.

And but for my well-honed intuition and years of character development (and thank-you God for wisdom gifts), I don’t think I would be lasting.

The wait has been long to enter this work, and now I get it. Those years, every single one of them, were absolutely necessary. Not a speck of time has been out of order.

Makes me think of a pilot who trains and practices and trains and practices so that when the blizzard comes the pilot has the no-how and guts and instinct to navigate well and come out the other side.

Thank-fully, I’ve got one of those little bobble-head compass things in my head

And my list of do’s and don’ts:

  • Never manipulate through emotions, making others feel guilt or shame
  • Never uncover a persons weakness in their own home (country)
  • Make no excuses, take 100% responsibility
  • Always honor

It’s not an exhaustive list, but one that has worked well over the years. And it is working well now. Through these benchmarks for my own responses I am safeguarded from allowing my humanity to destroy the work.

Work taken years to build can after all, be undone in one swift movement.

And I’ve learned one more this week:

  • Do not give authority for decision to others, that are supposed to be my own.

It is easy to give our authority away. When faced with a hard call and voices all round declaring this and that, pulling and pushing…

I gave way and handed over a decision to another

BAD MISTAKE

I recommend you do not do this.

BAD things come of it.

And I am reminded that we are to carry the responsibility and the authority of our lives.

And when we default these to others, things do not go well.

I wonder how much of the things in our lives that are not working well, are because we’ve given over the authority to another.

Having somehow forgotten that we will stand before God one day and give account for our lives. Not anyone else.

In the years of preparing for this work, years of tentatively stepping out in various ways, of pushing the boundaries of who people knew me to be…

Trust me, I’ve had my share of naysayers.

What kept me on track has been a holy fear of God.

A sermon years back jolted me to the Biblical passage that goes something like this, ‘she who has been given much, much will be required’

And through my mind went all the things I’d been given, such as legacy, wisdom, intelligence, among others.

And I clearly saw myself standing before God and answering for my life.

“What did you do with what I gave you?”

And I imagined my pathetic – at the time – responses,

“Well you see, my husband mocks and ridicules me.”

“Well you see, my friend doesn’t understand.”

“Well you see, my pastor won’t give approval.”

“Well you see, I have dishes to wash.”

Can you see it, standing in the throne-room of heaven before the God of heaven and earth and I am giving these excuses…

I knew they wouldn’t fly, and that I had to be faithful to HIM, and not any other.

And here I am today, holding full responsibility for my life as any adult is meant to do.

So, in the midst of the fray, and the flying-blind, that just might continue for the rest of this trip, I’m remembering to keep authority close in my pocket,

While giving honor and respect and emotional freedom in spades, I do NOT give over the authority that I have been particularly called to walk in.

Rather, making decisions I am to make, boldly and with courage, and to hold fast,

Trusting the one who has prepared me and trained me and remembering that He does all things well, and His timing is perfect

Thanks Lord

Prejudice Against the Wealthy

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P1310658 compressedPrejudice against the wealthy is a very real disease, and it traps people in poverty.

We easily know a prejudice and discrimination against the poor, but how often do we speak of discrimination against the rich.

It is there and well and alive on planet earth.

The thing with prejudice is it stems from a heart of judgment. And no good thing comes from judgment.

And there are PLENTY of judgments against the wealthy.

I’ve had some myself over the years, but have been doggedly working to rid them from my psyche, for a judgment given is a judgment that comes back. And judgment against the very things I’d like results in nothing whatsoever.

In the Bible (James 1:6-8) we are told to believe without doubting for the double-minded person will receive nothing.

Nothing comes of double-mindedness.

In regards to wealth it shows up this way:

“I need more money to live, I don’t have enough, all the wealthy people have it, tsk, tsk, tsk.”

Fact is, no one keeps wealth from us except us. And when we judge the wealthy we are declaring that to have money is bad and wrong.

Sooo… why would money want to come hang out with you?

It is a divided heart and mind. The mouth is asking for the very thing that the heart is cursing.

The mouth says, “Please God may I…” while the heart is condemning, “look at that person that has… tsk-tsk-tsk”

Logically speaking, how does that work?

It doesn’t.

All judgments work in this way, they set us up for despairing over the very things we want but do not have but hate about everyone else having.

And nothing will change, till we let go the judgments, change our minds about the way the world works, let the bitterness that always underlies judgments go.

Without this change, judgments against the wealthy secures our poverty.

Plain and simple,

And as horrifying as that.

It is easy when we have been hurt and wounded and the victims of injustice to carry those things close to us as a badge of sorts, an honor of poverty of sorts.

The Israelites when they were taken to the Promised Land, blew it. They had no faith, took no courage and ended up wandering the desert for forty years until that generation had died.

In the book of Psalms 106:24 we find this sentence, “They despised the pleasant land.”

And this led to their death. Literally.

It is the same with us. When we despise the wealthy or the powerful or the bosses, the government…. whatever the sneer that comes from our spirits, it will not go well with us.

A few years ago I personified money to see what I believed of it more clearly. This is some of what I found:

“Money is dirty”

“Money is too heavy for me”

“Money doesn’t like me”

I found that I was the cause of my money difficulties. I was driving money away with my attitude about it, my belief systems and paradigms.

They had to change. I had to change.

If this was a friend or a relative that I was thinking and believing and speaking these things of, would that friend want to come near me. Intrinsically speaking the emotional messages I’d be giving would be off-setting and that friend would not feel comfortable in my presence, and would stay farther and farther away.

Judgments that secure our poverty.

Prejudice against the wealthy condemns us to less and less and less.

And we respond with more hate, more prejudice, more judgment, and we get less and less, and we add on more judgment and prejudice, and we get less and less…

Despairing over what is wrong while drowning in our own vomit.

To set this right:

Confess that you have held onto poverty like a badge of honor,

Confess that you have despised those with money,

Confess that you have rejected the pleasant land,

And finally, begin to celebrate.

Celebrate that raise your friend received.

Celebrate the new care someone was able to buy.

Celebrate the promotion that so-and-so got.

And lastly, honor.

Honor is about looking every individual in the eye and declaring them worthy of a smile and a moment or more of your attention just because they are human just like you, simply because they have been created by God just like you.

Honor must go to everyone: the woman on the street, the peasant in the village, the children at the gathering, the elderly on their mats and in their homes, the men and women in their positions of influence, the politicians and the clergy.

Honor, and you will receive honor. Refuse to honor, and we will get that also, no honor.

Honor the poor and the wealthy, the sick and the healthy, the lame and the strong…

Honor everyone, and then, and only then, will it go well with you

A Savior?

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I’ve been thoroughly enjoying Africa except for one thing. Everyone wants me to get them a camera or a video recorder or a computer, help with this or that, support for this or that.

A part of me is screaming. I am struggling to provide these things for myself and so these requests are quite wearing and leave a certain heaviness in my spirit as a sorrow of misrepresentation and of assumption and presumption over who I am and what I am doing here settles upon me.

Now I understand the misconception. My skin is white, I have a camera, I have a computer, I have made it all the way to Africa, I must have more.

But I don’t, and the logic is off.

And even if I did have more, would I be providing these things anyway?

I don’t think so.

I’m here, you see, for a much different reason, something much more important than tools of the trade, something that reaches to a much deeper level.

Thankfully, my own difficult years have cured me of rushing to fix things. I’ve come to see that we generally don’t need anything fixed per se, more importantly we must walk through things,

Do we want life to improve? Of course,

But this doesn’t come through by fixing, but by walking.

A large part of my work, what I am bringing to developing nations, is declaring in the spirit realm strongholds and bondage of heart and soul off of people. We break generational strongholds, inner vows that confound us, setting right the misalignment of soul and spirit.

It is a deep inner work, and results in profound freedoms for the individual (and for communities and nations) to reach for more, to make something different of their lives, to experience breakthroughs, as they may choose.

It is a part of bringing the Kingdom of God to earth.

And it is process, not fixing.

It is relationship with the living God, nothing more, nothing less.

It requires guts and stamina and jarring transparency.

It is hard work.

Brutal honesty with ourselves, heart-stopping risk, and a willingness for nothing to come out right but to toss everything, lock stock and barrel, at the feet of God and see what might come of it.

Nothing might come of it, and everything might come of it.

We are never really sure.

This is the work of transformation and of freedom, but few want it, even less will risk for it. We would rather have camera’s and computers …

When Jesus was on earth the Jews were under Roman rule and had been for some time. The oppressions were real, the darkness pervasive and hope was all but gone.

Except for that Savior that would one day show up. Thing is, they had their own ideas about what a Savior would be.

They expected, and quite frankly, only wanted … life fixed.

Jesus brought deep emotional freedom, core soul work, and profound spiritual regeneration, (a profound understatement) and they really wanted none of that.

They only wanted life fixed,

And they missed him. They missed the Kingdom of God.

“Instead of process, we’ll take the FIXING, thank-you very much!”

“Instead of character development, we’ll take the FIXING, thank-you very much!”

“Instead of taking responsibility, we’ll take the FIXING, thank-you very much!”

If only the government would do such and such, if the politicians would only get their butts in gear, if the school system would only … if the medical system would … if the church …

On and on, ad-nauseum.

But change comes from the inside out. There is no other way around that.

So yes, the way to get that camera that seems so very vital, is to take that part of yourself that believes you don’t deserve it, or the part of you that believes you will be great if you have it, the dishonest core that cries for significance through that material gain…

And put it all on the line,

That the fire of God might burn away the dross,

Every internal misconception, the lies the curses the motives that bind us, must be burned away,

For only then does life begin to work, only then do we have cameras and computers, only then do we have governments that work and school systems that serve our children,

Only then.

We can choose fixing, or relationship with the living God.

One or the other,

But not both

Maybe its time to get laid out on the table which one we’d really like it to be.

When It All Goes Wrong

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P1230385 compressedI’ve been thinking about when it all goes wrong. Except ‘wrong’ needs to be put in quotation marks.

Much of what we don’t like about life, much of what ruffles our feathers and steals our satisfactions are simply the anomalies that we haven’t counted on and have no control over.

The food doesn’t taste to our liking, its either too sweet or to sour, too rich or too bland. The pillow doesn’t squish just right, too much or too little. The bed is too soft or too hard, too narrow or too big. Bedding, too light or not light enough.

That person looked at me the wrong way, or didn’t look at me at all. The driver is too crazy or too slow or too rude or too quiet.

The day is too busy or too boring, too long or too short. Shopping was a nightmare, that gal got my drink wrong, that fellow cut me off. It was too expensive, they didn’t have it to my liking.

The sun is too hot, the clouds are too many, the rain is too much. The day is too gloomy, the room too cold, the fireplace too hot…

The unspoken expectations and standards that mark how well our days go, how well our month has been, and whether we will be happy within the next 30 minutes or not…

“Wrong” has so much power to change our moods and affect our experiences,

But what if there is not a thing wrong?

… What if nothing is wrong?

I took a trip to Uganda in November of 2011, and am preparing to head there once more in less than a weeks time.

Over the course of my months between these trips I’ve been thinking about how really, when we travel to another country, another continent and another culture, that in essence everything goes wrong.

And yet, nothing is wrong.

Yet to some, it would surely feel wrong.

We are used to our specific food, the way we eat our food, the time of day we eat.

We have routines around washing and bathing and personal hygiene and care.

Standards of personal space, travel needs, of interactions with strangers and general expectations of safety.

And so much more

What if all that is tossed to the wind. What if all that you expect is not to be. What if everything you are used to is simply a figment of your particular culture? What if everything was flipped upside down. How might we manage?

Well? or not so well?

When all of the ‘normal’ that we are so accustomed to is stripped away, what would you really have, and what would you really need?

I tell you, very little.

After 22 hours of travel, simply having a bed to sleep in is heavenly. No matter that the roof is leaking onto a corner of the bed. No matter that you are sharing the room with a stranger. A bed is all one really needs!

Nothing is wrong

Awakened to a new day, washing means a 3X4′ outside concrete ‘closet’, with a wooden slat door, an old car door for a roof, with a basin of hot water (that someone has just worked over a stove to produce for you), two small nails to hang your clothes on (the ones you have taken off and the clean you are going to put on, not to mention your towel)….  Hot water and that bit of space is all that is really needed.

Nothing is wrong

And what about going to the bathroom. First we find out ‘bathroom’ means nothing. Neither does ‘restroom’ or ‘washroom’. Each of these greeted with a blank stare, and with ones mind scrambling to express the need, ‘toilet’ comes to mind.

“Toilet?”

Directed to a hole in the ground, the communal neighborhood toilet, thankful to have brought my own toilet paper…

Nothing is wrong

Is it different? For sure

Do I need to fix it? No

Nothing is wrong

A few years back now I separated from my husband, but did not leave the family home for some time (far longer than I would have ever imagined!). I simply moved a single mattress to the Den floor and made that my abode for what turned into nine long months.

Squashed between the piano and the desk, with a foot of space on one side and about three feet at the bottom, that 9’X4′ space became the little bit I could completely call my own and the only part of ‘home’ where I felt safe.

It was quite wrong. Friends of mine upon entering that space would well up in tears, appalled at my living conditions. Bless their hearts.

Today, I am SO glad for those months in that little space.

Those months stripped me forever of having to have anything a certain way ever again.

All the things I thought once mattered, don’t matter whatsoever.

Whatsoever!

Nothing is wrong

During my month in Uganda I’ll be visiting ten communities. Moving to a new location about every three or four days, staying with the people, refusing ‘nice’ only needing safe, I’ve no idea what my accommodations will be,

But I know it’ll be good and fine

And nothing will be wrong

And when  nothing is wrong we have ample space for joy and delight and fellowship and community.

When nothing is wrong, our eyes are open to see all that is right

I can hardly wait

No Camera

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P1260942 cropped and compressedThe most profound moments of my trip to Uganda in November of 2011, are not caught by camera.

There is no record of taking medicines to the elderly. No snap-shots of squatting alongside the beautiful old folk on their mats, grasping their hands in mine, and often the other way around.

No photo of looking deeply into their eyes, and even though I could not understand their language, understanding the various emotions and beauty and strength that flashed across their faces and through their eyes.

To one elderly lady, wrinkled and yet with this stunning presence I said, “You are beautiful.” To which she replied with deep wisdom, “I know.”

Moments that can never be taken away from me.

I need no pictures to keep these memories.

Dance is stunning in Africa, and was one of the favorite things. One crusade evening, as the music stayed on and on and then some more, I found myself alongside an older lady.

The rhythm of our dance grew in sync and though I could not speak her language and she could not speak mine, our bodies spoke “I am enjoying your presence” as we moved in time to each other and the music. To the youngsters who drew near and moved along with us; all simply magical.

I wouldn’t spoil moments like that with a photo!

Moments that will stay in my heart forever.

To the men who drove me around, by bike and by car, who went to the markets with me, who traveled with me, toured the source of the Nile with me, ate with me and I with them, who prayed with me, I for them and they for me, who preached alongside me, who interpreted my heart and words, who shared their personal stories and spoke of God’s faithfulness, who collaborated towards future things we might accomplish together…

No camera can capture such richness.

The children who dared to love on me, who shyly shook my hand, and delighted me with their smiles and exuberance. My hosts ladies, two beautiful women and their homes, where I was welcomed, embraced, cared for, spoiled, loved on and cried with when I left.

To the women who quickly became friends; hardworking, passionate about health and education, their families and the movements of God.

There is no way to record such strength and beauty, transparency and authenticity.

I simply soaked it in and gave thanks.

It is the magic of Africa

It’s Not Okay

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P1220657 compressedIt was Saturday evening in Madudu, Uganda. I’d been in the village since Tuesday simply basking in the beauty of the people and the land.

Sitting that evening on a bench at a wedding reception, a young girl came up to me to say hello and to shake my hand. Nothing out of the ordinary, I shook more hands and looked into more eyes that week than the previous months.

It is custom in Uganda to give respect and honour by kneeling before one to whom you want to show respect. And more than this, I suspect, one to whom deference is due.

I don’t know where this custom first took root. Whether it comes out of the colonization of the country or was there beforehand, I simply do not know. (And it should be noted that it is a sign of respect not only towards whites, but anyone of significance.)

Needless to say, there were a number of women who would kneel when they met me or shook my hand. I did not create any scenes, made no drama even when in my head I was screaming, “NO! do not kneel before me!”

Until the night of the wedding.

As the young girl and I shook hands a gentleman near me instructed, “Kneel down in front of the white woman.”

He spoke this in the local language, but I could pick out ‘white woman’, and I could tell by the tone that a command had just been given, and from the immediate kneeling of this little one before me I knew exactly what had been said.

I immediately countered, “Do NOT tell her that!”

And just as quickly my own and a few other hands to my side, reached out to lift her to her feet.

This all happened within seconds. I was horrified. To teach this to the next generation simply made me enraged.

The next morning was Sunday, and I was preaching at church. Now I preached quite a bit on this trip, averaged out it would have been at least once per day. But this day was a bit different.

I woke in the morning with the heaviness of that little girl being told to kneel before me simply because I was white, crushing my heart and mind with grief.

Colonization of countries is the same evil in the hearts of white folk that led to slavery in untold proportions around the world.

My heart has been breaking over this for some time already. Most recently, the movie The Help has me simply weeping, with no other adequate response, each time I see it.

And so to find myself in a country that had once been colonized. To be on the receiving end of this… idolatry of whites, was simply not okay.

That Sunday morning I could not stop crying. My heart broke further.

And so as part of my message that day, I apologized.

“On behalf of white folk the world over, I am so sorry”

Quite frankly, the many many things that have gone wrong in times gone by, from one people group to another, continue to have profound effect and carry on strongholds within the lives of people and communities and nations.

And it takes someone to stand in the gap and to say, “That was not okay!”

“I am so very sorry”

And then, in the authority that God gives, to declare that the poison of these tragedies and of this evil be removed from the people, from the communities and from the nations.

Amen and amen.

Something I am profoundly glad to do.

In a Nutshell

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P1230460 compressedThirty years ago I was given a picture in my mind’s eye of speaking the heart of God and praying freedom for people in Africa.

It’s been thirty years of preparation,

Thirty years of lessons, deep heart-aches, experiencing deep poverty of my own heart and soul and finding through it all a deep knowledge of God’s heart and of provision that supersedes anything I could figure out on my own.

God is alive and well and deeply interested in our realities and in entering into the mix of our lives with deep encouragements and touches from his heart to ours, and through our hearts to others and back again.

This is the knowing, and the message, that I took to Uganda.

Simply put: touched by God we are transformed forever.

It constantly amazes me how easy it is to bless each other. If I had never opened my mouth, there would have still been a profound ministry of God to the people of Madudu and Jinja and Inganga simply because a white woman came (alone) and stayed awhile.

This simple act of getting on a plane and flying half-way around the world spoke its own message. I don’t completely get it, may never fully understand it, but I saw it, was told it, and am humbled that my simple obedience can be such an empowering thing for those I met and stayed with.

One of my first days we took some simple medicines and prayer to the elderly in the outlying areas of Madudu, and in one humble home, lying on his bed unable to get up any longer, was one beautiful old man.

I could not speak his language, and he could not speak mine, but I prayed over him, blessing his strength and beauty of soul that poured through his eyes and countenance.

He then spoke to my companion, the translation:

“If a white woman has come to Madudu then God must be real, and I am ready to accept Jesus Christ now.”

I simply had to show up and in this a message of God was spoken to him.

And isn’t that simply it, really and all the time,

We show up,

We engage,

We honour,

We bless,

By our very manner, we say ‘Thank-you for living and for your contribution to the world’,

Simply by the space we hold for others,

The common places of joy and pain where we meet heart to heart, regardless of age, regardless of gender, regardless of space and time, of circumstance or surroundings…

We are simply all the same, and as we get into each others spaces we bless and are blessed.

This, in a nutshell, is our ministry around the world.