tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48906461348401012912023-11-16T12:43:04.656-05:00Where feet may fail...Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-7364121360431939272014-09-28T19:01:00.001-04:002014-09-28T19:06:13.026-04:00Blogging<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0qTJlJgMrZsbdTTZX4naNugnN_c5vIowxMXIwwAUUt9xWgtOaAlKaxCv4EdxDjcfH1obsac_nYZrjUWXF5yiSCozGY4r90H0pJ17Z1pUQ6Q4K69uEenA-f3OEX2EeKcRrnUI7N0JqqxeT/s1600/IMG_2604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0qTJlJgMrZsbdTTZX4naNugnN_c5vIowxMXIwwAUUt9xWgtOaAlKaxCv4EdxDjcfH1obsac_nYZrjUWXF5yiSCozGY4r90H0pJ17Z1pUQ6Q4K69uEenA-f3OEX2EeKcRrnUI7N0JqqxeT/s1600/IMG_2604.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lizard roommate - Nyinbuli, South Sudan</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3eevUjhIlfM" target="_blank">Apparently</a> blogging is not a part of my natural skill set, but I sincerely wish it was. I really enjoy reading other people's blogs but I don't take much pleasure in producing my own. It's just so much work to take these random thoughts and experiences and render them into a word picture that makes sense and is interesting to people who aren't me. Or maybe I don't blog regularly because I'm too much of a perfectionist. I agonize over every sentence. I write entire paragraphs and then delete them. I've rewritten this first paragraph at least 5 times and it still sucks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Perhaps the lazy updating is due to the uncertain purpose of this blog. I only started blogging because I wanted a simple way to keep people informed about my Summer 2013 trip to South Sudan. When I returned home the blog lost initiative. But when I was given the opportunity to go to South Sudan again, the blog should have become pertinent again. Fail.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It only got worse when I was actually in SS and wanted to blog and couldn't because I had neglected to allow access to my Google account from my friend's computer - something that could only be done in the US. With my sister's help I did manage to make 2 posts from SS and I vowed to do more, but the internet was slow and the trip was short and my time was fully occupied. I've had plenty of time and opportunity since, but I haven't had the motivation. The truth of the moment is gone. I mean, I can give a play-by-play of the events as I remember them and I can tell you how I think I felt in those situations. But it all seems so filtered and distant and stale.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ugh, what am I talking about? These are all just excuses. Please forgive me for not taking the time to tell these stories. Please forgive me for trying to justify myself. Please forgive me for neglecting the duty God has given me. And please pray for me, that I would just do it - whatever it may be. Thanks.</span>Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-15163843118748095902014-08-12T21:19:00.001-04:002014-08-12T21:19:17.225-04:00The White Nile<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">28 June 2014</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Juba, South Sudan </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A few short clips.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Read the previous post for more information. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In a boat on the Nile. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Children singing in the church.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-29090106168089019192014-07-02T19:16:00.001-04:002014-08-12T19:44:51.302-04:00Stuck in Juba - Part 2<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Blog #2 - <b>29 June 2014</b></span> <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Today I am thinking about unexpected blessings. When I first heard that we were going to be stuck here in Juba for 4 more days than expected I was really horrified. When I was here last year I really hated my time in Juba. It was hot, boring, and lonely. There was also uncertainty about food and water and the whole place just smelled terrible. Both coming and going, it was the place that was keeping me from where I really wanted to be - either Nyinbuli or home.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Juba 2014</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This time around I can say that Juba has grown on me quite a bit. I've seen a lot more of the city and although it's not a clean or comfortable place, there are some little lovely things that I hadn't noticed before. For example, in the middle of crazy traffic - even though everyone is pushing to get into any open road space - people are still watching out for each other. The driving seems a bit chaotic to my American eyes, but there is a watchfulness to the drivers here. They are aware of the other vehicles - cars, trucks, motorbikes, and donkey carts. And they are aware of the many jaywalking pedestrians. They are even aware of the dogs, goats, and children that may wander into the streets.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Juba 2014</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Beyond this hyper-awareness, they are patient. Everyone wants to get where they are going, but I hear no yelling or cursing. Even the horn honking is only done to warn other drivers or pedestrians of passing or turning. It's not done in anger. This amazes me, because I can hardly drive for ten minutes without feeling the need to yell at one or more of the drivers around me. The driving here may be wild and chaotic, but the drivers seem more even tempered and patient. The roads here are in terrible condition and there are no traffic lights or street signs, but there is no road rage. What is wrong with us that we can't have this kind of peace in our peaceful, controlled driving?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Another lovely thing I've discovered about Juba is the Nile region. On Saturday, I went with my little team and some NGO workers from IAS and from ZOA on a little boat trip on the Nile. Downtown Juba is kind of ugly and stinky, but the river is beautiful. Everything was so green and the air was much cooler on the water. I know the water isn't very clean - they are having a cholera epidemic after all - but the air above it is still glorious. As we motored down stream to our destination - an island village - I saw many colorful birds, gloriously tall trees, and smiling faces of swimming children. It took us about 20 minutes to get to the island. I was thinking it would be rather small, but I discovered that it was quite large. I don't know what the total population is but I do know that there are several primary schools on the island and that the one we visited has about 700 children attending. Still, it was a rural place - similar in feeling to Nyinbuli - even though it is very near the big city.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White Nile - Juba 2014</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White Nile - Juba 2014</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirnGWhyqAi4sG00YRMUH5sSNTkHAjyDdl0BC3A5NRdDcqv6fxdnTAKfV_pQG7Iy-vXD3BPrGogdkUOyMgxaMRBxidvTQVw77wW9Z0vzphqfrYfHWZyDU1AJHlDmI7Utzs7dw5dxu6VuUYH/s1600/IMG_2546.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirnGWhyqAi4sG00YRMUH5sSNTkHAjyDdl0BC3A5NRdDcqv6fxdnTAKfV_pQG7Iy-vXD3BPrGogdkUOyMgxaMRBxidvTQVw77wW9Z0vzphqfrYfHWZyDU1AJHlDmI7Utzs7dw5dxu6VuUYH/s1600/IMG_2546.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A mountain view from the island - Juba 2014</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The people we met there seem to have been forgotten by those on the mainland. It is my understanding that they have been without schools and without access to clean water far longer than should have been allowed. IAS has been working hard to bring in bio-sand water filters - a very expensive and time consuming project - so that the island people can drink the water from the Nile without poisoning themselves. They can't dig wells there because the water table is too shallow (only 6 feet) so the filters are the best solution right now. Another NGO has built the schools and is providing teachers so that the children can be educated and given opportunity and access to the world.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Water filter on island - Juba 2014</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course, I "report" these things as if I actually know all the facts and completely understand the circumstances. There is a very good chance that I really have no idea what I am talking about (please remember that whenever you read my stuff). Okay, now that I've said that.... Let me tell you my experience in the island village. Our little group had the opportunity to do a little village tour. We were first taken to the church. As we approached we could hear children singing inside. We entered and sat down to watch the boys and girls practice for Sunday service. When they were finished we greeted them all and told them how lovely they were.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The IAS man, Daniel, who had brought us there and worked with these people, told us that at some point (when wasn't clear) the children had decided that they would like to devote their Saturdays to fasting and praying for the church and the village. This is a remarkable commitment from these children and they have seen very tangible results from their dedication. There was a lovely feeling of peace in that place. Even the town crazy guy seemed harmless and friendly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">After we finished at the church; the children took us to see their school. They lingered for some photos but soon went back to their practicing. Let me just reiterate that there were no adults making these elementary age children do this. They were giving up their Saturdays of their own free will, and from what I could tell, were more than happy with their decision. Out of a community of nearly 700 children these 20 or so individuals gave up a day of play and leisure to pray and sing to God on behalf of their community. Amazing!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the schools - Juba 2014</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A classroom - Juba 2014</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Graffiti is different in SS - Juba 2014</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As we continued our island tour, we were led through thick brush and tall grass by a local man. Soon we emerged into a small plot of banana trees and okra. These little farm plots are hidden in the bushes. It is like a secret surprise in the jungle. I also saw maize, cassava, sorghum, and cucumber. There were definitely others, but that's all I can remember.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7tcWLygkp-YqQP8nDnHS342Hf5nWqayp9cfedJRLZFUYztEAog4sKur7qRhWj7nHJkQZqMJVhgCgdkqtN-sdJKJgx6MZJltTnfJsB6wm-h18nz7vOXKxmrz4vmqWvGx7TtaFQnjNQ6QWQ/s1600/IMG_2545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7tcWLygkp-YqQP8nDnHS342Hf5nWqayp9cfedJRLZFUYztEAog4sKur7qRhWj7nHJkQZqMJVhgCgdkqtN-sdJKJgx6MZJltTnfJsB6wm-h18nz7vOXKxmrz4vmqWvGx7TtaFQnjNQ6QWQ/s1600/IMG_2545.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A farm in the jungle - Juba 2014</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Eventually we re-boarded our boat and headed back to Juba. The ride upstream was about 30 minutes and it was just as lovely as the one downstream. There were many children playing in the water and they would try to race us as the boat motored by. We also saw people washing their clothes and themselves there in the Nile. The water isn't really clean enough for this, but then again, this is the best they have.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51vKB-tk7mEpb3TQt-N4OaPt0wLjJJTG2hOKAjJpXs4V2kyr1AZL4tnHtq9cRZHrcUr0yPoICl2ajhVIRpxGM0GmWk0gY5Z5TQCDYYLkpdF99PYUskztKvYGAT0Xrf-a6gteM30NKX6Tm/s1600/IMG_2520v2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51vKB-tk7mEpb3TQt-N4OaPt0wLjJJTG2hOKAjJpXs4V2kyr1AZL4tnHtq9cRZHrcUr0yPoICl2ajhVIRpxGM0GmWk0gY5Z5TQCDYYLkpdF99PYUskztKvYGAT0Xrf-a6gteM30NKX6Tm/s1600/IMG_2520v2.jpg" height="305" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Greeting - Juba 2014</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqCaL5cBVhRC2lhb_v45Tyji8TDdEBbfdb8wahkZboBMpRQdsRf4qvV-4QS4OdR9luG1pYb26aOZK7Jk-IwduhF2UmBSwpJ6d-SU4t_IJCGfry1laPzpFS2pTC9D9v-oTfR8fOoczq43HP/s1600/IMG_2581.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqCaL5cBVhRC2lhb_v45Tyji8TDdEBbfdb8wahkZboBMpRQdsRf4qvV-4QS4OdR9luG1pYb26aOZK7Jk-IwduhF2UmBSwpJ6d-SU4t_IJCGfry1laPzpFS2pTC9D9v-oTfR8fOoczq43HP/s1600/IMG_2581.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Racing - Juba 2014</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">All in all, Saturday was a fantastic day and it made me really glad to be here in Juba. We finished up our day with good food and World Cup Soccer. Everyone here is crazy for soccer and the craze is catching. I whooped and hollered along with everyone else whenever we watched a game (every night).</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Today is Sunday and later this morning we will travel across town to attend church with our brothers and sisters here in Juba. I think it will be wonderful and I am really looking forward to it. Afterward we are going to have lunch at one of the really nice restaurants here in Juba. I'm looking forward to that as well. Tomorrow we will get to the airport early and board a WFP flight to Aweil and from there we will drive to Nyinbuli. I probably won't have another update until I am safely arrived there. Please pray that we have good internet service there. And please pray that we will be obedient and helpful during our time there. Until next time.... I love you all and I'll see you soon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-81783694694985434772014-07-02T19:00:00.002-04:002014-08-12T16:31:08.619-04:00Stuck in Juba - Part 1<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Blog #1 - <b>26 June 2014</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's hard to believe that after 3 days of traveling I am only halfway through the journey to Nyinbuli, South Sudan. For now I am waiting in Juba for a flight to Aweil. We had planned to leave tomorrow (Friday, 27 June), but are now being told that there are no flights until Monday, 30 June. This is pretty frustrating, but we will try to make the best of our time here in this dirty, stinky city.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm traveling with three other women; Holly, Ginnie, and Jane. Holly is the friend who first invited me to accompany her to South Sudan in March of last year. She works for IAS as a midwife in the Nyinbuli clinic. Ginnie also works for IAS. She is a photographer and a recorder of stories. She is gathering pictures and testimonials to bring back to the US and to share with donors and other interested parties. Jane is a student from San Diego. She found IAS and Holly through a Google-search over a year ago and has been planning and preparing to come here since that time. We are a pretty interesting team.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Jane brought a whole suitcase full of clothing for children and babies and we are hoping that we can go to one of the orphanages here in town and gift them with these items. I'm not sure if this will actually happen, but it would pretty great.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In other news, it's rainy, hot, and humid here in South Sudan - just as predicted. We are squeezed into some rather tight quarters here at the IAS Juba office, but the facility is quite sufficient to our needs. My only major complaint is the lack of good internet. Actually, I think that's everyone's complaint. We all depend on the internet to communicate with our friends and families back home and it can be incredibly frustrating to have that life-line fail. But I think we came here knowing that this kind of thing would be an issue. Instantaneous communication is a luxury, not a guarantee. Coming to this part of the world involves letting go of many of the things we are accustomed to having near at hand.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know I have mentioned this kind of self-denial in past posts, but I as I experience it again I feel the deprivation as if it were the first time. Oh how I miss air conditioning, internet, and indoor plumbing. I am so spoiled by these things that it feels like a part of my life is missing. How odd. I don't need A/C to survive, but I long for it as if it were a staple.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I also long for sanitation. Everything here is so dirty. The streets are dirty, the floors are dirty, I'm dirty. I'm not a clean freak by any means, but I would really like a bottle of bleach and good mop so I could do something about the toilet and shower stalls. Anyway, I've complained enough.... Thank you for your prayers and please know that even though some aspects of my life here are not so comfortable or pleasant I am grateful to be here in this place.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzX1xQrjg4Tr1kxdhhX8d38N7AO2MknWCu2tYpCDgRRtdncKPwQ_NoLriuScMWrGyifeUYKlH4unmzMSfciRxPhwuMqnAtStkYDOSSpIvhzk7s6MsCifBUF2bhOUfhY3PhyphenhyphenT2gOu4RT9Mo/s1600/021+garbage+in+the+street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzX1xQrjg4Tr1kxdhhX8d38N7AO2MknWCu2tYpCDgRRtdncKPwQ_NoLriuScMWrGyifeUYKlH4unmzMSfciRxPhwuMqnAtStkYDOSSpIvhzk7s6MsCifBUF2bhOUfhY3PhyphenhyphenT2gOu4RT9Mo/s1600/021+garbage+in+the+street.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Garbage in road in Juba - Africa trip 2013</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-80851441015849614022014-06-05T14:46:00.003-04:002014-06-05T14:46:51.706-04:00Almost thereDeparture date is June 23rd. We return July 15th.<br />
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I am so not ready for this.<br />
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<br />Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-36434383434975329352014-04-14T10:51:00.000-04:002014-04-14T12:59:28.071-04:00And I'm back<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Forgive me my absence from the blogosphere, I have returned. And I am also returning to Nyinbuli. Perhaps this blog-space will become interesting again. But in the meantime.....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggk47urkR46BUzyebCCck6IX5VwUHtVPPCuXJ_XR80aI5O3WpUcpYTvMGAgrF0y33LyCA43w9lRgeGFK7Yz-KyjuVKcfZHsh7X0MWXuCvVh55t2zUq7STUJnXlXf35n-FpFek7JaOva6Pz/s1600/258+pharmacy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggk47urkR46BUzyebCCck6IX5VwUHtVPPCuXJ_XR80aI5O3WpUcpYTvMGAgrF0y33LyCA43w9lRgeGFK7Yz-KyjuVKcfZHsh7X0MWXuCvVh55t2zUq7STUJnXlXf35n-FpFek7JaOva6Pz/s1600/258+pharmacy.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange;"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+cor+13&version=VOICE" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><u>1 Corinthians 13 (The Voice)</u></span></span></a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: cyan;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #76a5af;">13 What if I speak in the most elegant languages of people or in the exotic languages of the heavenly messengers, but I live without love? Well then, anything I say is like the clanging of brass or a crashing cymbal. 2 What if I have the gift of prophecy, am blessed with knowledge and insight to all the mysteries, or what if my faith is strong enough to scoop a mountain from its bedrock, yet I live without love? If so, I am nothing. 3 I could give all that I have to feed the poor, I could surrender my body to be burned as a martyr, but if I do not live in love, I gain nothing by my selfless acts.</span><br /><span style="color: #e06666;">4 Love is patient; love is kind. Love isn’t envious, doesn’t boast, brag, or strut about. There’s no arrogance in love; 5 it’s never rude, crude, or indecent—it’s not self-absorbed. Love isn’t easily upset. Love doesn’t tally wrongs 6 or celebrate injustice; but truth—yes, truth—is love’s delight! 7 Love puts up with anything and everything that comes along; it trusts, hopes, and endures no matter what.</span><br /><span style="color: #f6b26b;">8 Love will never become obsolete. Now as for the prophetic gifts, they will not last; unknown languages will become silent, and the gift of knowledge will no longer be needed. 9 Gifts of knowledge and prophecy are partial at best, at least for now, 10 but when the perfection and fullness of God’s kingdom arrive, all the parts will end.</span><br /><span style="color: #c27ba0;">11 When I was a child, I spoke, thought, and reasoned in childlike ways as we all do. But when I became a man, I left my childish ways behind. 12 For now, we can only see a dim and blurry picture of things, as when we stare into polished metal. I realize that everything I know is only part of the big picture. But one day, when Jesus arrives, we will see clearly, face-to-face. In that day, I will fully know just as I have been wholly known by God.</span> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: cyan;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">13 But now faith, hope, and love remain; these three virtues must characterize our lives. The greatest of these is love.</span></span></span>Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-86350792138080225222013-09-19T18:03:00.001-04:002014-04-14T12:55:25.462-04:00Picture Journal - More Juba and also... Aweil<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">(Special note... I originally began and completed this blog entry on August 26th. After several hours of work I 'published' and my internet browser immediately crashed and I lost everything. I cried a little and then started over. I only got half way before it was time to run off to some engagement. Anyway, I forgot all about it until today. So here I am, finishing what I started nearly a month ago.)</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">I have no deep thoughts to share today. But I do have pictures. Here are a few more photos from my journey. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">In my first photo-blog, I included pictures of the house where Holly and I lived for our short stay in Juba. This is the front porch of that home. You can see the guard-shack on the right side of the picture. The window seen to the right of the porch is the bedroom where Holly slept. My room is left of the porch and the last window on the left is another bedroom. That one belongs to the home owner, Jessica, who was on vacation.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">front of house - Juba, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There were 3 more bedrooms on the back side of the home. One of those bedrooms belongs to Al. He was also away on holiday.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">These are Al and Jessica's vehicles. Also seen... another window to
Jessica's room, a storage shed, and the source of running water to the
home. Those big tanks hold the water that is used for showering, toilet
flushing, and hand/dish washing.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The water is brought up from the Nile
in big trucks and pumped into the tanks. After being used, the water
empties into a septic tank in the back yard. Eventually another truck
comes and pumps out the septic and takes the water back to the Nile. If
there is any sort of filtering or cleaning in between these processes, I
would be very surprised.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">FYI, there is a well on this property. It is
directly behind where I am standing in this picture. They hope to have
that hooked up to the plumbing someday. It would certainly be much
cleaner. And they could filter the water and drink it instead of buying
bottled water all the time. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">side of house - Juba, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">During my investigation of the property, I was shocked to discover this Shrike (and several others) in a tree in the
backyard. Shrikes are familiar and so this little one made me feel at
home.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjSNXuuClNYo6KIZa29ar3_27DXbdCF_qvEPCIua65knn5BRpjtBBvM3dDyXDAB21caAGHUQEn2K2ZIpSGwAFBaIwIy9YPurqyDewI7udz7YGTALkQsMMnyTTVHwtuZ3mWGQ6rr-PvxBo/s1600/042+bird.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjSNXuuClNYo6KIZa29ar3_27DXbdCF_qvEPCIua65knn5BRpjtBBvM3dDyXDAB21caAGHUQEn2K2ZIpSGwAFBaIwIy9YPurqyDewI7udz7YGTALkQsMMnyTTVHwtuZ3mWGQ6rr-PvxBo/s400/042+bird.jpg" height="263" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">young shrike - Juba, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Here is my room. The bed was not comfortable. It was hot and stuffy unless the power was on and the fan was running (as it was most evenings from 7pm until 11pm). But it had mosquito netting on the bed and it was my personal space in a strange place; so I was extremely thankful for it.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCmnWxs0qBUonWaMSov2caoZTq5bSusWA04oZboPGAZehK5RjxF6_YwDot1Ch2wVIFYKhp3zIV4iRk6-ZvCklMMAlqcpRDL0vi0TzQoVKaYNROknbTO4KYdrsG6olVELI7I41AK4ATfD8d/s1600/bedroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCmnWxs0qBUonWaMSov2caoZTq5bSusWA04oZboPGAZehK5RjxF6_YwDot1Ch2wVIFYKhp3zIV4iRk6-ZvCklMMAlqcpRDL0vi0TzQoVKaYNROknbTO4KYdrsG6olVELI7I41AK4ATfD8d/s400/bedroom.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my room - Juba, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It was clean and - after I added a sheet to cover the window - it was private. What more does one need?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Because of the difficulties with electricity (and the added frustration of no gas for the oven) Holly and I had to venture out into the streets of Juba to find our meals. We ate one lunch at the IAS Office and we had a dinner at a restaurant. The rest of our meals were purchased at street vendors or corner markets.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice part of town - Juba, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This was our favorite food stall and we visited it more than once during our 4 days in Juba. She sells chicken and chips and some sort of potato stew. The chicken is already cooked (deep fried) and then stored in the glass fronted box. The chicken is not store-bought. She probably raises her own and butchers them herself each morning.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chicken & Chips - Juba, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When we arrived at her cart we would tell her what part of the chicken we preferred and she would throw it back into the fryer to reheat. She would also cook the potatoes at that time. They were as fresh as the chicken. After she boxed it all up we paid about $4 total for both meals. It definitely took longer than ordering fast food, but it cost less and tasted a million times better. Honestly, it was the best chicken I've ever had. Apparently it really does taste better fresh. Also, no genetic tampering or growth hormones.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">delicious dinner - Juba, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The vegetables were deliciously fresh and perfectly ripe. I even ate some of the onion and I don't like raw onion. That's how good it was. I did not eat the spaghetti. That is added to make the meal seem "fancy". Greasy noodles are not yummy, but greasy chicken is scrumptious.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5GP3f9ggUGzbAoxXDdg9KbDTXxaQQxKoW9YrJYDiG_KZnwh3vb63oyuVVNXfYh-AkErFGWywuSr7u80lXkgm6-MUIfqMKWuPB3OELD8haetKd-n89Nk4OF5u98yXDW8GdRpQ-W2YisiKx/s1600/075+samosa.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5GP3f9ggUGzbAoxXDdg9KbDTXxaQQxKoW9YrJYDiG_KZnwh3vb63oyuVVNXfYh-AkErFGWywuSr7u80lXkgm6-MUIfqMKWuPB3OELD8haetKd-n89Nk4OF5u98yXDW8GdRpQ-W2YisiKx/s320/075+samosa.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">samosa - Juba, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I also tried my first <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samosa" target="_blank">samosa</a>. This one was filled with beans and I thoroughly enjoyed it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Holly and I arrived in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juba" target="_blank">Juba</a> in the late afternoon on Thursday, 27 June. And we left Monday morning, 1 July. Our flight to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aweil,_South_Sudan" target="_blank">Aweil</a> was pleasant. The plane was the smallest I have ever flown on and it was very loud. But the pilot seemed to know what he was doing and we landed (relatively) smoothly on the dirt runway in Aweil. That is when I encountered the strangest airport I have ever seen. Actually, I think it is more appropriate to call it an airfield - it's certainly more descriptive.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I know this sort of thing is normal in much of the world, but it was my first "bush" experience. Of course, this is downright fancy compared to the runway at the clinic in Nyinbuli. I'll have to ask Holly to send a picture of it because I forgot to take one. It was not an impressive sight.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1mLCt-UXvIOexdr5YgNRWpaEr1G-baA1D6MDBH6JEan8ma2TMvNg28RJkPdVL0RsTPH99m22WK1heKkK3SlAxV5xhrcQXuZPgguyhQZ1oHgW65C_WrYaCg1IHBlNzRJ3YbS6I7ElgEzdr/s1600/088+Aweil+Airport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1mLCt-UXvIOexdr5YgNRWpaEr1G-baA1D6MDBH6JEan8ma2TMvNg28RJkPdVL0RsTPH99m22WK1heKkK3SlAxV5xhrcQXuZPgguyhQZ1oHgW65C_WrYaCg1IHBlNzRJ3YbS6I7ElgEzdr/s400/088+Aweil+Airport.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aweil Airfield - Northern Bahr el Ghazal State, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The open-fronted tukul is the check-in/baggage retrieval/waiting area. And the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/WFP" target="_blank">W.F.P.</a> tent is where the security check is done before boarding. There is another open-fronted tukul to the right of the tent (a second waiting area) and right of that is the office - a small, enclosed tukul with 2 desks inside. The outhouse (another grass tukul) is about 50 yards behind and beyond the W.F.P. tent. I had the displeasure of using it twice before our car arrived. Thank you, Jesus, Holly had toilet paper in her bag!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The structures under the trees to the left are food stalls. There were more than I would have thought necessary for that tiny airport. The motorcycle is parked in what might be thought of as a parking lot, but I got the impression you could park wherever you wanted. The log that can be seen in the picture is actually a bench. There were two. Holly and I were sitting on the other one as I took this picture.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Just past the office, on the right, I noticed this home and decided to take a picture. It amused me that people were living and growing crops right there at the airfield.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSaFldzEVSrmyv_pzLo7FytOJiPdGnqF0n9FxtlaUQnxcGHQJ2T2JNXZ0bA7Gntt21JqNZwSpwqgn1f5YCvvNViloFRAsRAVwoeKkn-6ohD7FclstlPrKb_LtciLYUCdICIavKIXh686l/s1600/093+airport+dwellings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSaFldzEVSrmyv_pzLo7FytOJiPdGnqF0n9FxtlaUQnxcGHQJ2T2JNXZ0bA7Gntt21JqNZwSpwqgn1f5YCvvNViloFRAsRAVwoeKkn-6ohD7FclstlPrKb_LtciLYUCdICIavKIXh686l/s400/093+airport+dwellings.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">tukuls and crops at Aweil Airfield</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I believe the crop is <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commercial_sorghum" target="_blank">sorghum</a>, something I saw everywhere and still can't identify. It is one of the staple foods for the region. I ate quite a lot of it, most often in the form of a stiff porridge called Acita. I'm not sure of the spelling. It was pronounced uh-see-ta and is similar to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ugali" target="_blank">ugali</a>, which I also ate. I preferred the ugali, but I was alone in that opinion. I did like the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mandazi" target="_blank">mandazi</a> that was made with the sorghum. Actually, I just really like mandazi and it doesn't matter what you make it with. Okay, moving on...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So, I took the above pictures and then I turned around and took this one. This is the airstrip as seen from the parking area in front of the office. Okay, actually the airstrip is the orange road at the horizon of this picture. The rest of the cleared (grass-free) area seems to be used for parking. If you look closely you can also see the road to Aweil heading off to the left.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpJ-HQV3LQMz9wUPa7Up1EKN0EoCcLGXcVRXGXCEHId9_zD1tSob7DU3jSMOk8QyvNv5JEs7qpzfnJli-KZk77nvLTpGUUv8dlQGzC4-skXkbAZgTC067RJywNEwACZ2i9mNp04uioHS9c/s1600/089+Aweil+Airport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpJ-HQV3LQMz9wUPa7Up1EKN0EoCcLGXcVRXGXCEHId9_zD1tSob7DU3jSMOk8QyvNv5JEs7qpzfnJli-KZk77nvLTpGUUv8dlQGzC4-skXkbAZgTC067RJywNEwACZ2i9mNp04uioHS9c/s400/089+Aweil+Airport.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aweil Airfield, the runway - Northern Bahr el Ghazal State, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Holly and I landed in Aweil at around 10:30am. Unfortunately, IAS Nyinbuli thought we were coming in the afternoon. We waited on our bench under the tree for about 3 hours. We made the best of it. Holly had <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1323594/?ref_=sr_2" target="_blank">Despicable Me</a> in her iPod Touch and we watched that until the battery gave out. We ate some food we had packed for the trip; hard boiled eggs, crackers, and dried fruit. And we watched the people; especially the children.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Meanwhile, the manager of the airfield watched out for us and checked on us several times. He was very concerned that we hadn't been picked up yet. When the place closed down and everyone left he was nearly beside himself with worry. But we had contacted the Juba office and they had contacted Nyinbuli so we knew someone was coming.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtzwRAMcLb6IhPrw6jXqPRZt-gfYjYpBjdWUGAJdtj-7Ur4iSai0KY3uDNHa3XjWI0Wt5DisE5Y3ZSz-umJp840tdpjeCHOuGheKCdFNCsAXRgfr2kNffwctnA17ubpEiqpstcwJlBNiVG/s1600/092+Aweil+Airport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtzwRAMcLb6IhPrw6jXqPRZt-gfYjYpBjdWUGAJdtj-7Ur4iSai0KY3uDNHa3XjWI0Wt5DisE5Y3ZSz-umJp840tdpjeCHOuGheKCdFNCsAXRgfr2kNffwctnA17ubpEiqpstcwJlBNiVG/s400/092+Aweil+Airport.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tired people - Aweil airfield, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Still, we were extremely relieved to see the truck when it came down the road. Brian - a missionary pastor from Kenya serving in Nyinbuli along with his wife (Deborah, clinical officer) and son (Daniel, two year old) - and Bulis - a native, employed by IAS as driver - were extremely apologetic. We piled into the Land Cruiser and headed into Aweil proper for some shopping and lunch. Oh, and to pick up Emmanuel, another Kenyan missionary (clinical officer / nurse) who had been attending a meeting.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Aweil market was crowded and colorful. Holly and I wandered a bit in the narrow aisles, but we attracted too much attention and the crowds became overwhelming so we made our way back to the truck.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNHy_3T66X19XIiRFD93_H2m3GppAZpNI47Juu6XPh5BrWLnlip7Kasu-nYSHryGg5r9f891lWT6ByZhAu7v1nE-T3r2obbxd6ASzxpF7t4BaOSGAnp85GtG_mzDLcDdX2p0e6PBNltBv3/s1600/097+Aweil+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNHy_3T66X19XIiRFD93_H2m3GppAZpNI47Juu6XPh5BrWLnlip7Kasu-nYSHryGg5r9f891lWT6ByZhAu7v1nE-T3r2obbxd6ASzxpF7t4BaOSGAnp85GtG_mzDLcDdX2p0e6PBNltBv3/s400/097+Aweil+.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Overwhelmed person</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Weather-wise, Aweil was cooler than Juba had been. I'm certain this was partly because structures and people weren't quite so pressed in on each other. There was also a breeze. Still, this was rainy season so it was humid and muddy and sticky. Honestly, at this point I was feeling hungry, tired, and uncomfortable. I really just wanted to move on and find a bed to sleep in. But the shopping needed to be done if we were to have anything to eat in the coming weeks. With God's help I remained cheerful and open to the experience.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Person who feels right at home</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As far as I could tell, Holly was not having any problem being cheerful. She was ecstatic to be so close to her new home and she was pleased to be sharing all this stuff with me. Holly helped me to get through this exhausting day. She let me be quiet and distant when I was feeling particularly overwhelmed. She talked about and explained things without my having to ask. She went out of her way to help me see what was beautiful and precious about the place and the people.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking in the market - Aweil, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Speaking of beautiful and precious... The woman pictured below called out to me from her little store and motioned me over. She was all smiles and very chatty, but I couldn't understand a word she was saying. Brian came over and told me that she had seen my camera and wanted me to take her picture. It seemed odd to me, but I obliged and then showed this picture to her. She laughed and smiled and I decided that I was very glad I had taken it. It turns out that, unlike Americans, the South Sudanese like to have their pictures taken by strangers.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">friendly people - Aweil, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm not sure how long we spent driving up and down the lanes and shopping in the Aweil market, but it felt like an eternity. Finally we were done (maybe 2pm) and we decided it was time to have some lunch. I was amused by some of the names of the 'fancy' restaurants. I think they are trying to appeal to western travelers and foreign aid workers. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhybUdtkajxWbB1GMi52IDy77mouxNHL72UZVJXH4JGJEAouTyKx5hoU4Px6Q840EzJolFujZyAZWEOrgts-cNeikNu5gdPOD27Ja5SI-nyTjnTh62NGTNzviAzfC1PfQL-GkjUyxfYyWaO/s1600/105+Aweil+market.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhybUdtkajxWbB1GMi52IDy77mouxNHL72UZVJXH4JGJEAouTyKx5hoU4Px6Q840EzJolFujZyAZWEOrgts-cNeikNu5gdPOD27Ja5SI-nyTjnTh62NGTNzviAzfC1PfQL-GkjUyxfYyWaO/s400/105+Aweil+market.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"fancy" restaurant - Aweil, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We ate a late lunch at the BBC Restaurant (I'm pretty sure there is no affiliation with <i>the</i> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BBC" target="_blank">BBC</a>). Anyway, we parked across the street and then walked over to the hand-washing station to the right of the building. It was a large, raised trough with several spigots and little bars of bright blue soap. I washed my hands when it was my turn and was also introduced to a new normal.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In SS (like in America), people wash their hands before and after meals, but they also wash their mouths and do a lot of spitting. Eew. Spitting is very common, so is nose picking, same-sex hand holding, and into-hand nose blowing (no tissues available). Not so common... hugging, public farting, crying, kleenex using, shirt wearing, etc.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfU9-XsVM9oXgyXNDwh8idNgkQ8e4Y_v9SJf5pI4Slf_2UTEQt7-BSclpKjZeWSQYu8v4XKAFWwmSsvEQ3p3ulZ9e3eTTTWskUSKUGA4Iy0o2dgoQQJY79NaY1FGpg_9ZAo02msp3GcLIG/s1600/106+Aweil+market.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfU9-XsVM9oXgyXNDwh8idNgkQ8e4Y_v9SJf5pI4Slf_2UTEQt7-BSclpKjZeWSQYu8v4XKAFWwmSsvEQ3p3ulZ9e3eTTTWskUSKUGA4Iy0o2dgoQQJY79NaY1FGpg_9ZAo02msp3GcLIG/s400/106+Aweil+market.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">another "fancy' restaurant - Aweil, SS</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the above photo, you can actually see our table. We were served a thick lentil soup, flatbread, and bottles of almost cold Pepsi - no utensils. We said a blessing and then began eating. I was told that all food handling must be done with the right hand. Umm, how do you tear flat bread with one hand only? I couldn't figure that out, so I was a dirty American and used both. I did try to be sneaky about it. The meal was a bit more bland than I was expecting, but still pretty tasty.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">While Holly, Brian, and I ate lunch; Bulis stayed with the car to ward off thieves. After our meal; we retrieved Emmanuel from his meeting and then took him and Bulis some place for a bite while we waited in the SUV. Afterwards we were finally ready to leave Aweil and head to Nyinbuli. This is when I discovered why we had left the thing running all day.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh, did I not mention that whenever we stopped the car was left on? Guess what? Bad starter. Yes, as you may have surmised, the car picked this moment to die. Yay, I got to help push-start a Land Cruiser on a muddy street whilst wearing a full skirt. Yes, I tripped on the edge of my skirt and nearly fell in the muck, but we did get the car started. And that is when the real test began.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I know I have mentioned (many times) the amazingly awful roads in South Sudan. That is only because they are totally awful. The worst roads I have ever encountered in my admittedly very limited experience. For the next 3 and a half hours we bounced along 80 miles of one of those roads. I actually took video of the road on my way back to Aweil.</span></span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwgi0x6NCNIzOWFYwuy2uLxVTcNZuoVuQLTZWJNMhLs4e4wpYq0uJRZE33dWwoozueMdNwMFcqHx9EWSurL' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As you can see on my return trip it had been a rainy morning, but on my way from Aweil to Nyinbuli we were heading directly west into the glorious afternoon sun. We stopped one time for a side-of-the-road pee break. My bladder may have appreciated the release, but there was no way I was going to empty it there. Way too much audience and not enough cover. But it was a relief to stop bouncing for a few minutes. Of course, the car died again, but we managed to push-start despite the ubiquitous, canyon-esque potholes. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We continued our westward journey and I managed to do what should have been impossible. I actually fell asleep. Or at least dozed. At a certain point we got to the newest portion of the road and it leveled off. What a relief. By the way, I should have mentioned, when we weren't slowing down for enormous holes in the road, we were stopping for herds of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sanga_cattle" target="_blank">cattle</a> or sheep or goats. And for those who think it may be fun to just ram the animals... do you enjoy being shot? Actually, I don't know if anyone would shoot you, but the traditional economy is based on livestock and killing an animal that didn't belong to you would probably be a very serious offense.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Okay, I should stop speculating on things I don't really understand. Where did I leave off my story? Oh yeah, the road finally leveled off, I dozed, and then..... We arrived. We drove and drove and drove and drove and then were suddenly just there. The road is very nearly a straight line from Aweil to Nyinbuli (and on) so it was somehow shocking to be turning off into the bush. And then I was shocked again when in about a quarter mile we were passing the clinic I had seen in Holly's pictures. And then another quarter mile and we were pulling into the gate of the IAS compound in Nyinbuli.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOF56PPydK9o4r9aIFh18FYepfB0oCK9QNFFHx0LDl_VDK47mmMZZZ4381Pi3ajL6kH4f2A_Dk8SnbZu61ZX6R4M8kFoiRiUYOq3B2oWJGxbWDCssWEQTT7NwQO8Y_JRFy9mi3liennkf0/s1600/111+IAS+Nyinbuli.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOF56PPydK9o4r9aIFh18FYepfB0oCK9QNFFHx0LDl_VDK47mmMZZZ4381Pi3ajL6kH4f2A_Dk8SnbZu61ZX6R4M8kFoiRiUYOq3B2oWJGxbWDCssWEQTT7NwQO8Y_JRFy9mi3liennkf0/s400/111+IAS+Nyinbuli.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">IAS Compound - Nyinbuli, SS</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Following Holly's joyous reunions and my shy introductions, we were shown our temporary home - after 3 days in the guest room Holly and I would move into the room she shares with Divinah, but at the moment of our arrival there was another guest occupying that space.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Holly showed me around the compound and then we went back to our room to do a little unpacking and settling in. During our long drive I had noticed that I had maybe gotten a bit of a sunburn. Yes, I had been instructed to wear sunscreen whenever I was going to be spending time in direct sunlight, but I had not taken that excellent advice on this particular day. So I received my first (and only major) sunburn of my month in equatorial Africa.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdf50yU7j6E5xc6_ZHfFYhnf3paM_N0MRZ2Rbkj95bsPbk2INrhD0E1W5aFa2iCFr7W1uKetKDyxUE-MjYoVfE04SalqJaf7wvZ14vqKZAizOe9FDNHqF9Wu9yUXGofHCstiizCv6l9fqj/s1600/sunburn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdf50yU7j6E5xc6_ZHfFYhnf3paM_N0MRZ2Rbkj95bsPbk2INrhD0E1W5aFa2iCFr7W1uKetKDyxUE-MjYoVfE04SalqJaf7wvZ14vqKZAizOe9FDNHqF9Wu9yUXGofHCstiizCv6l9fqj/s400/sunburn.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">super-attractive picture of sweaty, sunburned person</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That burn sucked, but it healed in record time - I didn't even peel - and I was so distracted by the wonder of being in a foreign land that I mostly didn't notice the burn. Except at night. Sleeping was not helped by tender, sweaty skin. But I'll talk more about sleeping and other Nyinbuli adventures in the next Picture Journal.... which I'm sure I will get around to writing soon.</span></span>Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-64466867189426186732013-08-12T02:37:00.000-04:002014-04-14T12:31:38.489-04:00Time-out<span style="font-size: large;">I have been home (in America) now for just over 2 weeks and every day I promise myself I will update this blog tomorrow.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is so much that I have left unsaid - so many stories I've left untold - and now that I'm back in the states it has become so much harder to tell them. It's not simply time and distance; the things I experienced just don't seem as real to me anymore and that makes me terribly sad. I can't hear the village sounds or smell the village air. There are no chickens shuffling around in the grass outside my room. There are no village children staring in the windows at me. There is no clinic to walk to everyday and there are no smiling neighbors testing my language skills with frequent greetings. Everything here is just so disgustingly American.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Every day in Nyinbuli was an adventure. Every moment was filled with possibility and newness. I never knew what was going to happen next. One morning, as I was walking to the clinic with Debbie and Divina, I noticed a snail on the path. It had rained overnight so the creature was probably lingering in the cool clay before the hot sun chased it back into the grass. A snail is not so unusual, except this snail was as big as my fist. When I see a snail here at home it's usually about the size of my pinky fingernail or if I'm at the wetlands I might see a snail the size of a baby's fist. And either way it's gonna be a snail with a flat, circular shell. This snail had a long, tapered, conch-like shell. It was the most incredible snail I had ever seen. Of course, I'd left my camera in my room.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But now I'm home. Things are "normal" again. And I'm expected to step right back into the life I left as if nothing has changed. In fact, I'm not allowed to have changed. Too much is expected of me... I'm too dependable or depended on. I can't leave and I can't have any other plans for awhile because everyone needs me to stay right where I am and refill that gap I left empty for a month and half. When they are all done with me, then I can start to have a life. I'm somehow, paradoxically, overwhelmed by the low expectations of my friends and family.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ugh, I know this is just "feelings" and not the truth. I am loved and people want me to pursue God and His purpose for my life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I wish I knew what His purpose is for my life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Pursuing God is really so much more difficult for me here. There is so much distraction. I'm afraid that I will never have that feeling of total dependence that I had in Africa. I'm afraid because I'm pretty sure when I wake up tomorrow I won't feel the awe and excitement that I felt there every morning. What if I it was all just a spiritual high? What if every thought and feeling and revelation I had in Nyinbuli was just the result of an overstimulated, overly emotional mind? Is it time to come back to the real world and realize that this is all there is for me? Was I crazy to think that I could be more? That I could have more?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I don't think so. I think God has plans for me. I think He wants to do a work in and through me. And I think I want to let Him. Yeah, I'm scared. I'm weak. I'm a lot of other wimpy things. But He is strong and His power is made perfect in [my] weakness. When I am feeling this uncertain and (let's just admit it) depressed, the only thing I know to do is go to God's Word.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Jeremiah%2029&version=NLT;NIV" target="_blank">Jeremiah 29: 11-13</a></span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af; font-size: large;">"...For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=john%2015&version=NLT;VOICE" target="_blank">John 15: 5a, 11, 15-16</a></span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af; font-size: large;">I am the vine, and you are the branches. If you abide in Me and I in you, you will bear great fruit... I want you to know the delight I experience, to find ultimate satisfaction, which is why I am telling you all of this... I don't call you servants any longer; servants don't know what the master is doing, but I have told you everything the Father has said to Me. I call you friends. You did not choose Me. I chose you, and I orchestrated all of this so that you would be sent out and bear great and perpetual fruit. As you do this, anything you ask the Father in My name will be done. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=isaiah%2061&version=NLT;VOICE" target="_blank">Isaiah 61: 1</a></span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af; font-size: large;">The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is upon me, for the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted and to proclaim that captives will be released and prisoners will be freed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=philippians%203:%207-14&version=VOICE;NLT" target="_blank">Philippians 3: 10-14</a></span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af; font-size: large;">I want to know Him [Christ] inside and out. I want to experience the power of His resurrection and join in His suffering, shaped by His death, so that I may arrive safely at the resurrection from the dead. I'm not there yet, nor have I become perfect; but I am charging on to gain anything and everything the Anointed One, Jesus, has in store for me--and nothing will stand in my way because He has grabbed me and won't let me go. Brothers and sisters, as I said, I know I have not arrived; but there's one thing I am doing: I'm leaving my old life behind, putting everything on the line for this mission. I am sprinting toward the only goal that counts: to cross the line, to win the prize, and to hear God's call to resurrection life found exclusively in Jesus the Anointed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=ephesians%202&version=VOICE;NLT" target="_blank">Ephesians 2: 10</a></span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af; font-size: large;">For [I] am the product of His hand, heaven's poetry etched on lives, created in the Anointed, Jesus, to accomplish the good works God arranged long ago.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2%20timothy%201&version=NLT;VOICE" target="_blank">2 Timothy 1: 7-8a, 11</a></span><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af; font-size: large;">For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline. So never be ashamed to tell others about our Lord.... And God chose me to be a preacher, an apostle, and a teacher of this Good News.</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Thank You, Father God, for making me for a purpose. Help me to passionately and whole-heartedly pursue You. I feel weak and alone, but I am neither because You are with me. You are Emmanuel. You are with us.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Thank You, Holy Spirit; I will not fear because You are with me. I will step out in faith, even if I cannot see where my next step will land, and You will be faithful to guide me and to protect me. Even if I fall, I know You will catch me. Even if I fail.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Thank You, Lord Jesus, for loving me so totally. Thank You for making a way for me to have such a wonderful adventure with You in Nyinbuli. I pray that You will make a way for me to go back again someday.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">My God, please watch over Holly as she continues to serve You in that beautiful and difficult place. I pray that You would use her in miraculous ways. You are good, Lord. Amen.</span></i><br />
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<span class="text Phil-3-12" style="font-size: large;"> </span>Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-1067594070056280712013-07-18T10:22:00.001-04:002014-04-14T12:21:51.110-04:00Picture Journal - Traveling and Juba<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Photos, finally....</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Holly and I boarded a plane at Orlando International Airport. We flew to Dulles International in Washington, DC and stayed overnight in a hotel.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That is Holly waving from our king-sized bed in the only room available in all of Washington, DC. It was super-expensive, but we did get a delicious continental breakfast.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The next morning we took the hotel shuttle back to the airport. We checked in at Ethiopian Air (standing in the longest, slowest line ever) and eventually boarded and began the 14 hour flight to Addis Ababa International Airport in Ethiopia.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is a photo of a plane very similar to ours after landing at Addis.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yes, we exited the plane in the open air. First time for me. And then we got on a tram/bus/thing that drove us to the terminal.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I learned a fun fact on this short journey that would become very important for the rest of my time in Africa. Apparently you can drive on whichever side of the road you want.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBTwZZNIEOF0Wq2HLz1a9fvc_n5bj-9xkzcY9qSPZJrGH4rU9lyxw9ILdI2-XTljT6Qt8w2b0NbGhWBEZ4m0uhczOBQp4Bpitl2wY3STxCIXeQ9ANbLEdHh46W2TdzF6gXbvbTdM8EOzNG/s1600/P1000013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBTwZZNIEOF0Wq2HLz1a9fvc_n5bj-9xkzcY9qSPZJrGH4rU9lyxw9ILdI2-XTljT6Qt8w2b0NbGhWBEZ4m0uhczOBQp4Bpitl2wY3STxCIXeQ9ANbLEdHh46W2TdzF6gXbvbTdM8EOzNG/s400/P1000013.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Here I am sitting in Addis Ababa airport. I was excited to discover that this part of Ethiopia is at a fairly high altitude. We were surrounded by beautiful mountains and lush forest, but it was pretty chilly and I did not have a sweater. So, Holly and I had some traditional Ethiopian coffee to warm ourselves up.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">BEST. COFFEE. EVER. No sugar or cream necessary. It was the most amazing coffee I have ever had the pleasure of drinking. This really surprised me because everything in this airport looked incredible sketchy and possibly diseased (ask me about the bathroom later).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Addis Ababa Airport has many lounge chairs scattered about so that you can take a nap between flights. When you have been in the air for 14 hours and now have long layover these chairs look like the most comfortable sleeping surface in the world. Unfortunately for us, in this part of the world, only stinky men get to use the awesome chair-beds. We had to make do with regular, everyday seating.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-2zP8-vhK-SJTKrVm9bYYESWIXFVcqGvhPH5LwfUgk50Tjd6xf8quaOBL5_glliH1CMj9Qx5GOig67vlaBPLrtgOE-hfCO8cGz81Yr5VlZ_3mOSrRfhVC8w2mp7UrfVGrVHkhcLotaM6/s1600/P1000012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-2zP8-vhK-SJTKrVm9bYYESWIXFVcqGvhPH5LwfUgk50Tjd6xf8quaOBL5_glliH1CMj9Qx5GOig67vlaBPLrtgOE-hfCO8cGz81Yr5VlZ_3mOSrRfhVC8w2mp7UrfVGrVHkhcLotaM6/s400/P1000012.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">See us trying to be cheerful about it?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">After waiting for many hours for 2 chairs to become available, we gave up and headed to our departure gate only to discover upon our arrival that there was nowhere to sit. Again, stinky men get priority. Ladies have to stand or sit on the floor. We opted for the floor.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Finally, we boarded our plane. It looked a lot like this one.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnv2SzUmfSFM6RmSiHw9EkNvYAujafOFCn2kJJLHWbVoQl3jvYdEmjqGYBJLEquLmPr5QeyRqxKOCsVBvCOCaRvd3mF8KjDuiTOlxTtDO0aJjd8RXwlY3JiFBG_T-7zL9rMaNWkMBwkS1H/s1600/IMG_1242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnv2SzUmfSFM6RmSiHw9EkNvYAujafOFCn2kJJLHWbVoQl3jvYdEmjqGYBJLEquLmPr5QeyRqxKOCsVBvCOCaRvd3mF8KjDuiTOlxTtDO0aJjd8RXwlY3JiFBG_T-7zL9rMaNWkMBwkS1H/s400/IMG_1242.JPG" height="225" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It isn't this one though, because I took this picture from my seat on our plane. But I think that you can get the general idea of shock and awe I was feeling at this moment. (This plane has propellers. Ack!)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Despite my distrust of this particular aircraft, we had a very pleasant flight to Juba, where we again exited in the open air. In fact, you should take the open-air exit as a given when traveling in this part of the world.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We landed safely in Juba and were met at the airport by two gentlemen from the IAS office there. They helped us find our bags and get them to the SUV. Holly and I were very glad to be arrived in Juba so we relaxed in the backseat and chatted with these new friends.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The road you see out the front window is paved - I think we can call it "Main Street" - and it is the only paved road I saw in Juba. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOCpZIcOkUSRGwcUKwYcf6BySx48eO7os5nfYG1Kab7L86i__r7dx7WSs1zE4kR1OoHe9pibvqxRsg2fowGwdRX6-_aImDNAtfHEVfyX-y25CrSOZOh3Xf0HsWJu6Kp65PgplX6QJY-IDW/s1600/IMG_1245.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOCpZIcOkUSRGwcUKwYcf6BySx48eO7os5nfYG1Kab7L86i__r7dx7WSs1zE4kR1OoHe9pibvqxRsg2fowGwdRX6-_aImDNAtfHEVfyX-y25CrSOZOh3Xf0HsWJu6Kp65PgplX6QJY-IDW/s400/IMG_1245.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5nhX-Bl_i1C3hDYXia6UzyrgjcsEzLZvV_E5j-ohipoApHl3y1flxU7kfngn9scSe3C6-bbBwOQH5XVzylqzl2gS3ekrXVgi8VuQ7X-ivYJCQr_Wzpf1JaBN8GcFIqE3hWTy0A-bqojHQ/s1600/IMG_1248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5nhX-Bl_i1C3hDYXia6UzyrgjcsEzLZvV_E5j-ohipoApHl3y1flxU7kfngn9scSe3C6-bbBwOQH5XVzylqzl2gS3ekrXVgi8VuQ7X-ivYJCQr_Wzpf1JaBN8GcFIqE3hWTy0A-bqojHQ/s400/IMG_1248.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There are no traffic lights and no street signs. On the paved road we stayed on the right. I was quite relieved. Soon though we were on deeply rutted dirt roads where everybody just took their half out of whatever side they wanted.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Juba is the capital city of South Sudan. Just remember that when you read these facts.</span></span><br />
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<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There is no electricity except what privately owned generators provide.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There is no plumbing. If people have a toilet or bathing facility at all, it is generally outside. Toilets are outhouses and baths are buckets.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Actually, some places do have indoor facilities and plumbing, but the water used comes from a huge tank (like having a personal water tower). You pay a fee to have this tank filled by a couple dudes (city or government employees?) in a big truck. This water would <i>not</i> be considered potable by U.S. standards.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There is no drainage. There are no gutters.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There is no road maintenance.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There is no garbage collection. The roads are filled with piles and piles of empty plastic water bottles (because you can't drink the city water and there is no garbage pick up).</span></span></li>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6NToknJpo1eQsyomkSxoMIcizAv4PDsfvf9vOB6pANMSg3heGp_SbyLERsIIepfxRERCOpmnmCMpwqGz0OvklmKWY1X4GTZKWNBsf_jNIBM85SnJguuDTPeSKvkYAollAH5CClHwJqTci/s1600/P1000029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6NToknJpo1eQsyomkSxoMIcizAv4PDsfvf9vOB6pANMSg3heGp_SbyLERsIIepfxRERCOpmnmCMpwqGz0OvklmKWY1X4GTZKWNBsf_jNIBM85SnJguuDTPeSKvkYAollAH5CClHwJqTci/s400/P1000029.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is a picture of a street running parallel to the one the IAS compound and our borrowed house are on. The garbage piles and ruts you see are not on the shoulder. They are in the middle of the road. This road is actually pretty nice because so many foreign agencies and NGOs are located in this neighborhood.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Every home or business has a wall around it and a guard or two stationed on property. We had a watchman at our house too. Juba is a dangerous city and it was comforting to have him there.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The next 2 pictures are the view from our front door, first to the left and then to the right. You can see the entry gate and the watchman's hut in one and in the other you can see the wall around our home and one of the previously mentioned water tanks in the distance.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9JAZZg8dMmgPwDjbUHSRY9miQwe8hwTZcmPPH_xWsmgjLWMjPr0l_TKtdfGbmGfV33K5Fb_Ib_MDwd4I9fkyCoFppemCAyZ0w3qu4bRLYHFfH8geXxTXrKiUyoCfHH1p0JHrt1SdBTlBi/s1600/IMG_1250.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9JAZZg8dMmgPwDjbUHSRY9miQwe8hwTZcmPPH_xWsmgjLWMjPr0l_TKtdfGbmGfV33K5Fb_Ib_MDwd4I9fkyCoFppemCAyZ0w3qu4bRLYHFfH8geXxTXrKiUyoCfHH1p0JHrt1SdBTlBi/s400/IMG_1250.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixh1OaqKBeV4cO3wcX9kAVgC9xgqSKyCj1SLYT37IGo0JYbKCFv8xa8vOg4Wc5mQbNVfmmjvmq_ZAvRX2vnF4iTJxKwNANVYXYIF5tAvbp7mzPImYvkd2gI0NL4DY5GA609C0lYWvpN3dL/s1600/IMG_1251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixh1OaqKBeV4cO3wcX9kAVgC9xgqSKyCj1SLYT37IGo0JYbKCFv8xa8vOg4Wc5mQbNVfmmjvmq_ZAvRX2vnF4iTJxKwNANVYXYIF5tAvbp7mzPImYvkd2gI0NL4DY5GA609C0lYWvpN3dL/s400/IMG_1251.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Well, that is all for now. This process of posting pictures takes a very long time here in Nyinbuli, so I will have to do another post another day. I plan to show you more of Juba and tell you about our stay there. I will also (eventually) post photos of Aweil and Nyinbuli. And I have been asked to show some of the creatures I have been able to photograph. I hope this will pacify you for now.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And here are two final pictures for this entry. This is the yard and the office of the IAS compound in Juba.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNrlHktjTx1bCNJeB5GmNwDXflz47ITK_aPm3NL3KKAJ2Szv4N-WjIcaPi67LGfXAEQ5Ua3F9vo4TssrWR6FeD7WhiNBpMytbmEMAAEQ1QHperFxyNbCIeE93TMXUZcniGN40nUD4SDfVL/s1600/IMG_0033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNrlHktjTx1bCNJeB5GmNwDXflz47ITK_aPm3NL3KKAJ2Szv4N-WjIcaPi67LGfXAEQ5Ua3F9vo4TssrWR6FeD7WhiNBpMytbmEMAAEQ1QHperFxyNbCIeE93TMXUZcniGN40nUD4SDfVL/s400/IMG_0033.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This office is in the support partner for the mission in Nyinbuli.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Please pray that the IAS office in Juba and the IAS clinic in Nyinbuli would be of one mind, one heart, and one vision. And that the provider of these ideals would be God alone. Pray that these two teams, would be united in doing God's good work in South Sudan.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And as you pray, come against the enemy that would interfere in these things. Pray that God's Spirit would reign here. That His will would be done here. And that His people would not be pulled to the right or to the left but would press on toward the goal.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Thank you for your warfare. Your prayers are vital to this place.</span></span></div>
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Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-85190756138949037542013-07-13T13:13:00.000-04:002013-07-13T13:13:59.572-04:00Sunset in Nyinbuli<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /><br />Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-66781596182010140462013-07-10T11:50:00.003-04:002014-04-14T11:05:56.256-04:00Uncomfortable<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There is something about being
uncomfortable that all of us (especially Americans) despise and
therefore avoid. I'm not talking about pain per se, although that
may be part of it. I mostly mean discomfort, something that is more
an annoyance or temporary condition. Here are some of the
uncomfortable things I have experienced recently...</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The pins and needles feeling of not
just your foot and leg, but also your butt falling asleep. Being in
a closed space with a bad smell (being in an open space with a bad
smell). Heat rash. The dull ache in your thighs brought about by
having to squat to toilet. Bug bites. Being hot, constantly. Being too hot to sleep. Exhaustion. Dirty
bathrooms. Bad chair/bed. A (very) long car ride down a (horribly)
bumpy road. Airplane toilets. Airplane seats. Airplanes. Stinky
airplanes. Being a woman surrounded by Islamist men (welcome to
Addis Ababa Airport). Wearing skirts all the time. No eye contact with men. Strange food and strange customs. Swarming
flies in the outhouse. Those flies landing on your bum as you try to
accomplish your mission. Bees in the bathing stall. Spiders in the
bathing stall. Anything alive in the bathing stall other than
yourself. Bats flying into your room at night. Being surrounded by
people who stare at you because you are white. Being mobbed by
children (and adults) because you are holding a camera. Shaking the
hands of people who are obviously dirty and or sick. Holding a baby
who is not wearing a diaper. Being really dirty. Bathing out of a bucket. I could go on and on and on and on.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So, I don't want you to think I am
whining or complaining (much). These things are just part of life
here or part of what it takes to get here. And being here is well
worth it. Being here is awesome. Being here totally rocks my world.
I am so amazed every day – I am in AFRICA! Instead of just wishing
I am actually doing. Wow! Anyway, back to the point I was so
awkwardly trying to make. It seems to me that if you want to
actually DO anything to serve God and His children, then it is going
to be uncomfortable. I think it's time to just accept this as fact.
I mean, if you are only interested in serving yourself then I guess
you don't really have to worry about it, but if you desire to do the
mission you have been given – caring for the least, the lost, and
the lonely, feeding the hungry, healing the sick, educating the
ignorant, encouraging the brokenhearted, defending the downtrodden,
loving the unlovable, touching the untouchable, carrying the truth of
the love of Jesus Christ to the hurting world, any of that stuff –
then you are gonna have to endure the hardship of some kind of
discomfort.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Last summer, my church participated in
a county-wide, multi-congregational, week-long, mission project
called <a href="http://www.cjmission.org/" target="_blank">“Celebrate Jesus”</a>. I remember how reluctant I was to
knock on peoples doors and ask them about their needs - a key aspect of the mission. They were
strangers, and strangers make me very uncomfortable. They might have
said something mean or rejected me or asked questions I couldn't
answer. They might have had needs I couldn't meet. What if they had
smelled bad? What if they were drunk or high or dangerous? I imagined multiple
scenarios of terrible discomfort and very nearly talked myself out of
participating. To be sure, I did meet some of the very things I was
fearing, but the world did not end. In fact, I discovered that in my
discomfort I was far more likely to depend on God.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I begged the Lord three times to liberate me <i>from its anguish; </i>and <i>finally</i> He said to me, "My grace is enough to cover and sustain you. My power is made perfect in weakness." <i>So ask me about my thorn, </i>inquire about my weaknesses, and I will gladly go on and on---<i>I would rather stake my claim in these </i>and have the power of the Anointed One at home within me.</span></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: lime;">2 Corinthians 12: 8-9 (The Voice)</span></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I have found the lessons of <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2%20Corinthians%2012:8-9&version=NIV;NLT;VOICE" target="_blank">2 Corinthians 12: 8-9</a> to be even truer here in South Sudan. It is in my
weaknesses that God's mighty power shows through. So I must allow
myself to be weak. I must be willing to step into a situation that
is beyond me. If I want to see my God be mighty then I must be
willing to be uncomfortable. I am so glad - so very, very glad - that
God made a way for me to come here to Nyinbuli. How sad it would
have been to have gone my whole life and never seen the greatness of
my God. And I know that He is greater still. He is more awesome
than I have seen and more awesome than I can imagine. Oh, thank You,
Lord, for sending me to this hard place. I was blind, but now I see.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I hope and pray that this is a break-through in my Christian walk, and not just a momentary spiritual high. I want to be willing to go to
the hard places, the uncomfortable place. I want to be willing to do
the scary thing. I want to be willing to step into challenge. And I
want to be willing to do this for the rest of my life. I don't want
to retire from it or grow out of it or
grow too old for it. Because it is in this danger zone that I have
discovered a tendency to cling to Jesus. I have found it necessary
to trust in my Savior. I am exalting in the closeness of Him. It's
like I can smell the breath of the Spirit here and it is so sweet. I
don't know that I should want to give that up for the safety that we Americans
are always praying for. Even though the very thought brings tears to
my eyes and fear to my heart, I would rather be out on this dangerous
ocean where my feet may fail than anywhere else – whether it be the
safe boat or the safe shore or the safe whatever – because this is
where my Lord is. And isn't that the place I should want to be? He
is my Safety. He is the Cleft of the Rock. He is my Shelter and my
Strong Tower. He is my Shepherd. Not the boat, not the shore, not
my mom and dad, or my A/C and plumbing, or my friends or the US government, or my home or my church. It is
Him, my Savior. My Salvation. My God. Mine. And I am His.</span></span></div>
Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-90392693294341619622013-07-05T08:39:00.001-04:002014-04-14T12:04:28.439-04:00Nyinbuli - Day 4<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I have been here in Nyinbuli, S. Sudan for 4 days now. Every experience is a new one and it has been hard for me to even bring my brain to a place where I can be concise. Even now I am not sure of my ability to actually tell you anything useful about this place. So be prepared for more random thoughts and rambling.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">First thing of note, the roads here are terrible. I know I informed you (better than complaining) about the roads in Juba and how terrible they were. Well that was the capital city, imagine how much worse they could be out here in the bush. I am thankful that there is a road, but what a road.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We flew from Juba to Aweil on Monday. A 1 hour and 30 minute flight. We landed on a dirt landing strip and taxied up to the airfield office, which was little more than a shack and a tent. I took pictures and I wish I could share them with you, but I think that will have to wait. The internet here is reliable but it doesn't seem to have the bandwidth to support photo uploads today.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Anyway, Holly and I waited at the airstrip outside Aweil for several hours. Unfortunately our IAS Nyinbuli team thought we were to arrive on the afternoon flight. Oh well. We were picked up eventually and we headed into Aweil town to do shopping for the team and to have lunch.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This town was much prettier than Juba. It was almost suburban. Well, underdeveloped-suburban. We went to the market and Holly and I walked around a bit until we decided we were gaining too much attention (White People!) so we went back to the truck to wait. After an hour or more of market shopping we had a lunch at the cleverly named BBC Restaurant (right down the street from 5 Stars Restaurant). I'm pretty sure the place has no association with the BBC, it is only named that to sound posh and to attract foreigners.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Finally, we got on the road to Nyinbuli, a 130km (about 81 miles) trip. It took us more than 3.5 hours. The road is wide and straight and so rutted and washed out that you cannot maintain a traveling speed. Sometimes you must inch around a deep hole or go off the road completely to avoid a small pond in the middle of it. Or perhaps there is a herd of goats or sheep or cows that must be driven through. And for those of you who might just want to ram the animals in frustration, keep in mind that those herds are the only money most of these people have. They are the basis of the local economy. If you kill one of those animals you must find the owner and pay them back (probably double).</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So it was a kind of hellish ride, but we made the best of it. Everyone remained cheerful and we drove into the compound as the sun was beginning to set.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Next point of interest, the clinic.... I have worked in the clinic every day, so far. It is wonderful. The clinic is about a quarter mile walk from the fenced IAS compound. Everyday when we arrive there are already people waiting to see the clinical officers and the midwife. They register or check-in and then they sit and wait under the sparse trees to be called in for their turn in the exam room.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It is malaria season so some are very sick. We had two children whose temps were so high we ended up pouring water over them to cool them down. We also frequently see malnourished or vitamin deficient patients. I've been told that because of the decades long war and the annihilation of a generation, people do not know how to farm or how to adequately feed themselves and their families. They are smart and teachable, but they are also frightened and traumatized.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Dinka also seem set on restoring the population they have lost due to war, so they marry off their young women (not a new trend) and those women endure pregnancy after pregnancy after pregnancy. The mothers wear their poor undernourished bodies out. They loose babies. And many mothers die too. I think S. Sudan and Afganistan have the highest mortality rates among mothers giving birth.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">One of the primary focuses of this clinic is to educate people concerning the best way to have strong families. Today we taught a workshop informing about birth-spacing and family planning. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And speaking of workshops... I arrived just in time to participate in the three day IAS workshop that was being held here.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There were several hour long sessions every day and each session was on a particular subject. Subjects included; human rights, conservation, nutrition, leadership, birth planning and childcare, and HIV/AIDS awareness. South Sudan has not had much exposure to AIDS until now so we are taking advantage of this time to educate the people in the hopes of avoiding a national emergency. The biggest obstacle to this is that you don't talk about sex here. At all. It is considered highly inappropriate. But we must have these uncomfortable conversations because we want to save lives.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We may scoff at the more strange or even foolish aspects of another culture. But that is an unfair judgement of something we cannot possibly understand fully because we have not lived their lives. Instead we must approach all of these issues as simple teachers. We are bringing information we have learned in our society. They may do with it what they will.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There are so many other things I would like to tell you. I wish I could just tell you the stories of all my days and nights here. But there is not enough time. I have some other responsibilities. We have a woman laboring here right now (the first since our arrival) and Holly may desire my presence.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I will leave you with this request, please pray for the women here. They are second class citizens. They are baby making machines - that is their primary value to the community. They are married as young teens (13 or 14 is not so unusual) and they have no choice in the matter. This is a polygamous culture so disease and abuse is a constant issue. They are not encouraged to attend school or think of any future beyond being traded for cattle to an old man who will then impregnate them repeatedly until they die or become unable to conceive.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Above I wrote we shouldn't judge another culture too harshly when we don't understand their society. This kind of abuse, however, is not something we can look past. A woman is a full person. She is made by God in His own image. She is a vital aspect of creation. She is God's finishing touch on His masterwork - the cherry on top.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When a people undervalue and abuse their women, we must do something to change those hearts. Here we are educating and giving clinical help. At home you must pray that the hearts of the people would be changed. And perhaps if you have money, you can give. And if you have time, you can give that. But don't turn your back. Don't ignore their desperate situation. Don't agree with the culture that tells them they are nothing. Then you are just as guilty as the person who has abused them. These women are beautiful and friendly and charming and caring and full of humor and character. Please don't dismiss their need. Spend some time praying for them today.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Father, I thank You for the opportunity to share Your love with the people of Nyinbuli. Today my heart is aching for the women especially. Their lives seem so hard and so hopeless, but I know they are seen, understood, and loved by You. I know You hear their cries of their hearts. Please, in Your grace and mercy, make a better way for these women.</span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I pray for the men here too. I ask that You would soften their hearts and open their eyes to see what their hands have wrought. Help them to love their wives and to treasure their daughters.</span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Above all Father, I pray that these people would come to know You as their Savior, the Lover of their souls. And that by knowing Your love, they would learn to better love each other.</span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Jesus, I pray these prayers in Your precious name. Amen.</span></span></i>Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-42952784265710514762013-06-30T15:13:00.000-04:002014-04-14T11:44:29.069-04:00Juba<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So, this is our last night in Juba. We leave tomorrow morning, early. Fly to Aweil and then drive 2 or 3 hours to Nyinbuli. I am not looking forward to the flight, but the drive sounds kind of fun. (edit: it was not)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I will be very glad to get out of Juba. The air here is hard to breath. There is no electricity in this large city so generators run constantly. Also people are using natural gas and charcoal and wood fires. When the wind dies the smell is awful. At night there is a constant dull ache behind the eyes. It has got to be just terrible for the lungs.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It rained on and off and there was a lovely breeze today. I am glad that our last day here was so pleasant. Right now I am standing on the front porch with the computer propped up on the railing. It is the only place we have internet on the property. We could go down to the office for a better signal, but it is dangerous to walk the streets at night.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I hope to be able to post some pictures tomorrow or Tuesday. We will have better access to internet in Nyinbuli than we have had in the city (go figure). And perhaps I will be able to give a more thoughtful blog post instead of these random updates. Anyway, there is so much to tell and not enough time to tell it. The pictures will help, so I look forward to that.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I am so thankful to be here in this tough place so that I can bring it to all of you in a more personal way. There is much need here. So much. I can't understand how we have been so blind and so self-involved.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I don't remember a "rainy-day" fund being part of Jesus' ministry. Invest that "emergency" money in an actual emergency. God will take care of you and yours; He has called on you to take care of the least, the lost, and the lonely. They are out there. And they need what you have... Not iPods or television or frozen yogurt, but clean water, a dependable police force, health care of any kind, road maintenance and trash pick up, and Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If you can't come yourself then find a way to give. If you can't give money or time to mission (local counts), then get on your knees and weep and pray for these people. Stand in the gap for them. Be their prayer warrior. You are literally filled with the Holy Creator of the Universe. You have power. PRAY! Pray without ceasing. Pray with passion. Pray with fervor. Pray.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Father God, thank You for this incredible opportunity. Help me to be what You have called me to be. Thank You for the amazing prayer warriors You have put into my life. I can feel their love and support. Thank You for answered prayer. I love You, Lord, and I pray that my heart would pour out praise to You for as long as I live. Amen.</span></span></i><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-8468586815272018412013-06-27T08:53:00.001-04:002014-04-14T11:39:31.287-04:00Arrived<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It took several days of flying but we have arrived in South Sudan. The 14 hour trip from Washington, DC to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia was by far the worst of it. That is a long time to be in a crowded space with no escape. But we made it and now we must wait here in Juba, South Sudan's capital city, for a flight to our final destination - Nyinbuli. I just want to be there already, so the waiting is painful. There won't be a plane out until Monday. Arrrrg! I know Holly is feeling impatient as well. And it is an unforeseen expense. We now have to feed ourselves and somehow navigate around this inhospitable place.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I wish I could expain to you how absolutely foreign this place is. Have you ever driven down a washout dirt road? Well all the roads here are washed out dirt roads, except they aren't dirt, they're clay. And they all have enormous hills and valleys every few feet and there is often a pile of trash just sitting there in the middle of it all. Nobody wants the roads to be like this, but there is no infrastructure in place to take care of it. There are no street signs. There are no understandable landmarks. I couldn't find my way back to the airport if I wanted to.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Interestingly enough, other than the shocking hills I can see in the near distance, the topography of this place is similar to Florida. The empty fields make me think of the St. John's river basin. And when we were getting into the car at the airport, I looked out over the city and I was reminded of some of the more rundown parts of Cocoa or Orlando. The weather is certainly similar, hot and sticky.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I have seen some creatures... a very large lizard with an orange creamsicle colored head climbing on a security wall. Two ginormous spiders in the barbed wire atop the wall of our compound. A small chirping bird. Cattle egrets (the same as we have at home, though I don't know what they are called here). And a swallow zooming around the airport. Nothing too mind blowing. I'll keep my eyes open.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Mostly what I see are people. Smiling, laughing, friendly people.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I am typing this entry from the IAS office here in Juba. Their vision and mission statement are posted on the wall.</span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><u>Vision</u>:<br />A godly, transformed society.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><u>Mission</u>:<br />To save lives, promote self-reliance and dignity through human transformation, going beyond relief and development.</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">More on all of this later. I am eating up all the internet time with my rambling.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Until then....</span></span>Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-73231361821238089872013-06-25T14:47:00.000-04:002014-04-14T11:33:08.805-04:00Ready or not...<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Here we go. In about four hours, Holly and I are boarding a plane and beginning our journey to Nyinbuli. Today we will fly to Dulles International Airport in Washington, DC and tomorrow we will fly to Ethiopia.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">I have never spent more than 3 hours in an airplane. Even when I've flown to California or Washington state there were multiple plane changes. This flight will be 14 hours straight. I am kind of dreading it. I'm not a small person but I'm going to be stuffed into a seat meant for one. And I won't be able to avoid airplane toilet. Ugh! But ultimately this will all be worth it, because when the plane lands Holly and I will be in Africa. Can you imagine? I can't. And I won't have to, because I'll be there. From Ethiopia we will fly to Juba, South Sudan and we'll hang out there for a few days. And from there we will fly to Nyinbuli via a UN flight. (edit: flew to Aweil via Kush Air and then drove to Nyinbuli)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">So those are the facts.... And here's another. I'm terrified. Like really, really scared. It makes me feel silly and foolish to be this frightened. I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready to say goodbye to my family and to my friends and to my cats. I'm not ready to say goodbye to my comfortable life. I think I will miss my A/C and plumbing almost as much as I will miss my people. So, I'm afraid, but I'm going to do it anyway. There is more to life than what I know and what I see. I refuse to run from this incredible opportunity.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: cyan;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="text 2Tim-1-7" id="en-NLT-29777">For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: cyan;"><span class="text 2Tim-1-7" id="en-NLT-29777"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2%20Timothy%201%3A7&version=NLT;VOICE" target="_blank">2 Timothy 1: 7 NLT</a> </span></span> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Fear is not from God. It is found in my own weak flesh and encouraged by an enemy that wants me immobilized. I will not allow this fear to keep me from doing the things that God has set before me to accomplish. I will instead rely on the power, love, and self-discipline (or sound mind) the Spirit of the Lord has given to me.</span></span><br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you, Lord, for giving me this opportunity to be a blessing and to be blessed. I pray I would be Your obedient daughter and that You would be glorified in all I do.</span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Please be with my friends and family as they pray for me and Holly. And please bring us safely back home so we can share these experiences with them. Above all, I pray Your Will would be done.</span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">I pray this in the name of Jesus. Amen.</span></span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Gotta wrap up. Time to go!</span></span>Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-6283036381190559362013-06-10T12:37:00.001-04:002013-06-10T12:41:47.515-04:00Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;">This song is the inspiration for the name of this blog. I will include the lyrics here, but they are also found in the music video.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange;">You call me out upon the waters, the great unknown where feet may fail.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And there I find You in the mystery, in
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<span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></span></span></div>
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And I will call upon Your name and keep my eyes above the waves.</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: cyan;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">When oceans rise, my soul will rest in Your
embrace</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: cyan;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">for I am Yours and You are mine.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br />
<span style="color: orange;">Your grace abounds in deepest waters, Your sov'reign hand will be my guide. </span>Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me,</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: cyan;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And I will call upon Your name and keep my eyes above the waves.</span></i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: cyan;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">When oceans rise, my soul will rest in Your
embrace</span></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: cyan;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">for I am Yours and You are mine.</span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: cyan;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br />
<span style="color: magenta;">Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders,</span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">let me walk upon the waters wherever
You would call me.<br />
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">and my faith will be made
stronger</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">in the presence of my Saviour.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: cyan;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%;">I will call upon Your name, keep my eyes above the waves.</span></i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: cyan;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%;"> My soul will rest in Your embrace.</span></i><br /><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%;">
I am Yours and You are mine</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%;">.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> </span><br />
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Crocker | Salomon Ligthelm</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">© 2012 Hillsong Music Publishing (Admin. by EMI
Christian Music Publishing) | CCLI License # 79126</span></div>
Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-35411899130032437912013-06-10T12:18:00.001-04:002014-04-14T11:21:06.594-04:00Feeling Anxious<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="color: cyan;"><span class="text"><sup>4 </sup>Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it
again: Rejoice!</span> <span id="en-NIV-29448"><span class="text"><sup>5 </sup>Let
your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.</span></span> <span class="text"><sup>6 </sup>Do not be anxious about anything, but in every
situation, by prayer and petition, <u>with thanksgiving</u>, present your
requests to God.</span> <span id="en-NIV-29450"><span class="text"><sup>7 </sup>And
the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts
and your minds in Christ Jesus.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: cyan;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" target="_blank">
</a><span id="en-NIV-29451"><span class="text"><sup>8 </sup>Finally, brothers
and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever
is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or
praiseworthy—think about such things.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span id="en-NIV-29451"><span class="text"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Philippians%204:%204-8&version=NIV" target="_blank"><span style="color: cyan;">Philippians 4: 4-8 NIV</span></a><i> </i></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span id="en-NIV-29451"><span class="text"><i> </i></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text Phil-4-8" id="en-NIV-29451">I guess I'm feeling a bit anxious. Btw, when did that "with thanksgiving" phrase get in there? I often whine at God when I "present my requests" to Him. Or I make a list of demands. Now I'm supposed to rejoice?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text Phil-4-8" id="en-NIV-29451"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text Phil-4-8" id="en-NIV-29451">This kind of praying (apparently the right kind) takes exercise. But it is worth it. When I pray without thanksgiving, my prayers are self-focused, shallow, and needy. But when I acknowledge God and thank Him for all He has done, is doing, and will do, then I see <b>Him</b> - and He is Awesome!</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text Phil-4-8" id="en-NIV-29451">Praying with praise is better. It is not easier. I mostly forget to pray this way. I tend to be a cynical and negative person. I forget how good my life has been. I forget how loved and cared for I am. I've lived a safe, blessed life. But when things get a little dark or dangerous, I get depressed and cranky. Suddenly the God who has taken care of me and provided for me is a bad guy and He is ruining my life. Yeah, I turn into a teenager. I get all grumpy and I slam doors. I stomp around and mumble under my breath when I get corrected, I become stubborn over ridiculous, non-issues. I even have temper tantrums. Mature, right?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text Phil-4-8" id="en-NIV-29451"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text Phil-4-8" id="en-NIV-29451">As the departure date for South Sudan looms closer (June 25th y'all) I find that I'm spending less and less time in prayer, meditation, and hopeful preparation. Instead I am trying to avoid thinking about going while simultaneously worrying about going. I try to clear out the negative thoughts and emotions associated with taking this scary leap of faith, but I forget to fill the empty space with positive truths, so all the crap just comes rushing back in along with some new worries (not unlike <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke%2011%3A24-26&version=NLT" target="_blank">Luke 11: 24-26</a>).</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text Phil-4-8" id="en-NIV-29451">In his letter to the Philippians, Paul instructs them to pray with rejoicing - even scary or tough issues can be brought to God in a spirit of thanksgiving, for He is good even when circumstances suck - and to empty out their fears and the desires of their hearts to God. And then he encourages them to fill that empty space up with <span style="color: cyan;">"</span></span><span style="color: cyan;"><span class="text">whatever
is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is
lovely," and "whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think
about such things."</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text">So, right now, I am praying...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span class="text">Thank You, Father, for this wonderful, incredible, amazing opportunity to serve You and to learn about loving people who live so very differently from me. I know that You will put me to good use and that I will be a help and not a hindrance.</span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span class="text">I give You praise, because You have given a plan and a purpose to my life. Wherever I go, You are with me. The world is a dangerous and scary place, but I am safe in Your hands. No matter what.</span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span class="text">Thank you, Jesus, for peace in South Sudan. I pray it would be a lasting one. Thank You for the stability You are bringing to this new country. Thank You for loving and caring for all people; You are good and gracious.</span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span class="text">Please, Holy Spirit, help me to be strong and courageous and to stand in Your Truth. I love You and I love what You have made. Help me to build up and not destroy Your marvelous creation. </span></i><span class="text"><i><span class="text">Thank You for choosing me to be part of Your kingdom work. Thank You for making all this possible by Your sacrifice.</span></i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text"><i><span class="text">It is in Your holy name that I pray. Amen.</span></i></span></span></span>Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-48968137997346221212013-05-21T22:31:00.000-04:002014-04-14T11:09:27.914-04:00Nyinbuli<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53cVWN1pUlkPFEH9gVbEcWkfAazK5ncvWuaDt4Pmu7RI18r3w-UtXtq6tsepLlaP_P2fs8-cWf7POqLJbHtHTkP97A5NtLiUZ6ZccNitmq1MepQMcy2xXTOaByrmdbfqvRlKy1hjjNPDi/s1600/Picture1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53cVWN1pUlkPFEH9gVbEcWkfAazK5ncvWuaDt4Pmu7RI18r3w-UtXtq6tsepLlaP_P2fs8-cWf7POqLJbHtHTkP97A5NtLiUZ6ZccNitmq1MepQMcy2xXTOaByrmdbfqvRlKy1hjjNPDi/s320/Picture1.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">This is the sunrise over Nyinbuli, South Sudan. I am extremely excited and looking forward to seeing this sight with my own eyes. And I am also frightened of the day when I will be seeing this with my own eyes.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Where is God taking me? What is He asking of me? What am I doing?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">God and I have this ongoing conversation about trust. Well, my part is ongoing, His part is simply "Trust Me." Then I whine a lot and suck at stuff and then we come back around to "Trust Me". So, this is me trusting God. I'm not terribly good at it. I haven't had a lot of practice.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">I feel like Peter stepping out of that boat onto the raging sea. I think I see Jesus out there... but there is so much wind and waves and chaos. I might get distracted. I might sink. I might drown. Peter almost did. That "almost" is really important though. He did take his eyes off Jesus and he did begin to sink, but then he cried out for help and that was when Jesus grabbed him and held him and saved him from drowning. <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+14%3A22-33&version=NIV">Matthew 14:22-23</a> And next time Peter chose to step out in faith like that I bet he made it a few steps further. I know for sure at the end of his life here on earth, he stepped out of that boat and walked right into the arms of the Savior.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Oh God, I will put my faith in You. I will follow You wherever You lead. I will call Your name and not be put to shame. Thank You, Jesus, for loving me and being so very patient with me. Help me to be a true reflection of You to the world around me.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Amen. </span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm+22:5&version=NIV">Psalm 22:5</a></span></span>Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890646134840101291.post-44428673712913406642013-05-20T00:50:00.000-04:002014-04-14T11:07:14.510-04:00Trusting in the Lord<div style="text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs%203:%201-12&version=NLT" target="_blank"><u><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">Proverbs 3: 1-12</span></span></span></u></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="chapter-1"><span class="text Prov-3-1"><span class="chapternum">1 </span>My child, never forget the things I have taught you. </span></span><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-3-1">Store my commands in your heart. <sup> </sup></span></span><span class="text Prov-3-2" id="en-NLT-16434"><sup class="versenum">2 </sup>If you do this, you will live many years, </span><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-3-2">and your life will be satisfying. </span></span><span class="text Prov-3-3" id="en-NLT-16435"><sup class="versenum">3 </sup>Never let loyalty and kindness leave you!</span> <span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-3-3">Tie them around your neck as a reminder.</span></span> <span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-3-3">Write them deep within your heart. </span></span><span class="text Prov-3-4" id="en-NLT-16436"><sup class="versenum">4 </sup>Then you will find favor with both God and people,</span> <span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-3-4">and you will earn a good reputation. </span></span><span class="text Prov-3-5" id="en-NLT-16437"><sup class="versenum">5 </sup>Trust in the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> with all your heart;</span> <span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-3-5">do not depend on your own understanding. </span></span><span class="text Prov-3-6" id="en-NLT-16438"><sup class="versenum">6 </sup>Seek his will in all you do,</span> <span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-3-6">and he will show you which path to take. </span></span><span class="text Prov-3-7" id="en-NLT-16439"><sup class="versenum">7 </sup>Don’t be impressed with your own wisdom.</span> <span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-3-7">Instead, fear the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> and turn away from evil. </span></span><span class="text Prov-3-8" id="en-NLT-16440"><sup class="versenum">8 </sup>Then you will have healing for your body</span> <span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-3-8">and strength for your bones. </span></span><span class="text Prov-3-9" id="en-NLT-16441"><sup class="versenum">9 </sup>Honor the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> with your wealth </span><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-3-9">and with the best part of everything you produce.</span></span> <span class="text Prov-3-10" id="en-NLT-16442"><sup class="versenum">10 </sup>Then he will fill your barns with grain, </span><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-3-10">and your vats will overflow with good wine. </span></span><span class="text Prov-3-11" id="en-NLT-16443"><sup class="versenum">11 </sup>My child, don’t reject the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>’s discipline, </span><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-3-11">and don’t be upset when he corrects you.</span></span> <span class="text Prov-3-12" id="en-NLT-16444"><sup class="versenum">12 </sup>For the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> corrects those he loves, </span><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-3-12">just as a father corrects a child in whom he delights.</span></span></span></span></div>
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Lillian Hopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02124861342081766927noreply@blogger.com1