Shedding Light

Sawubona dear family,

I find myself sitting in an African living room that a week and a half ago seemed foreign, wide open, and sun peirced with ornate white washed barred windows for walls. Not so anymore. I now know the routine of drawing the wall of curtains for warmth in the morning and the importance of their 6-o-clock cinching as the sun falls into the biting cold of evening. I know the smoky scent of this place in my air dried clothing, how long it takes to get the glass water boiler to swirl with bubbles for warming Rooibos tea, how to convert kilojoules and kilos, what the lady is actually asking me when she says, "plastics?" at the grocery store as I respond with a confused "uhuh" smile only to watch the screen glow with a mysterious 21 cents.

I know how to light a blowdryer on fire even while using a converter, the nearly correct way to drape the 6 heavy blankets on my bed so that they stop falling on the floor in one sad slump everynight leaving me a frigid popsicle, and how not to sleep with your socks directly against an old fashioned hot water bottle unless of course you want to repeatedly blister your ankles and arches as you dream your getting a splinter. I also know what it means for a fire training to turn into an emergency call to the fire brigade while you fight with everything you didn't know you had in you to save the neighbors animals and feed, how fast I can jump into said fire clothes and the back of the bukkie (pick up truck) to go off roading at the alert, and that South African sweet potatos are not orange.

But none of this matters much.

Let me tell you instead what I'm learning...

That I wish my arms were each 3 feet longer so I could fold in that many more jealous little ones,that if I am willing to stand up in front of His people and listen carefully, He will give me a steady word even if it comes through a shaking microphone, that I LOVE training women to be empowered and effective in reaching those in their own reach, that unity in ministry with other believers amidst so much chaos and struggle is possible, beautiful, and real, that I was never supposed to produce for God as one earning His good pleasure with me and it's finally sinking in, that there is such a thing as a healthy balance in ministry and rest if you are in it for the long haul, that loving the Godly community God gives your for today will always leave you fuller if you are willing to engage in it despite the painful promise of brevity, and how much I am once again reminded that God intends me for this life and the time to jump is growing ever nearer. For today I just thank, think,and walk contently in His love.

For tonight I'd like to give you a mental postcard of the sunset that washed my heart clean and straightened up my minds living room as I ran on the red path and stood between the cabbages.

At 5:20 pm the sun begins to sink into the skyline of Johannesburg miles and miles away. The buildings become visible as if they have suddenly been drawn in with a heavy charcoal pencil. The tall, brittle, fields that seperate us from the city look as if a blanket of gold has laid just across its tips and the dismissal mounts. Sunsets here are like a song you hear in an orchestra. They start soft with taps of color here and there and bits of light piercing the still white cloud cover. As time passes the expression gets louder and more complex until the volume is so brilliant it is an overwhelming punch of beauty that your spirit bonds with and forever craves. The clouds are always different and so are the colors. The tangerine glow is always faithful and the fields certainly don't change much from their coffee with too much creamer shade of dry. scattered, hazy, Stacks of gray begin to appear all across the horizon as you internally converse any need for worry. It is my favorite time of day. The neighbors clustered cows and old windmill get so black against the contrast you feel as if you eaten too much cake or smelled too much potpourri it is so rich.

My favorite part is when the inevitable let down of it's fall is over, you suddenly look around and see all the twinkling lights from the shack cities and towns that neighbor our agriculture plot. I love that part. I even love looking at the mine dump behind us where they've gathered Gold which I call a mountain. Life is about perspective. I really love how quiet it gets and how all you can hear are laughing doves as you breathe the scent of the musty smoke that falls everynight from the day's brushfires and all the people's cooking fires from the slums. It's so still I can finally be with Jesus and talk outloud and no one will hear me. With 7 girls on a team sharing a house and every minute of life, this is a treasure. Tonight the clouds started out looking like someone rapidly unstuffed a mattress and then changed to the symmetrical imprint of a george foreman grill. The colors grew deeper and richer until the sky looked like one ginormous grilled quilt of orange, fuschia, and lavender. Please remember to include in this postcard a scratch and sniff sticker with the abundant scent of cow manure and you have just what I'd like to send you. ( :

More to come beloveds, I cherish you each! Goodnight from South Africa!

If any of you have the wonderful desire to send snail mail... don't deny yourself!! The postal strike is over and I happily await my chance to jump up and down like a deranged maniac with waving mail in hand!
Send it to: WEC SA Johannesburg,
                        (Lucky Me)
                     P.O. Box 10148
                       Dalview 1544
                 Republic of South Africa

All my love,

Jenna in Brakpan