The Hindsight of a Year, and the Death that is Life

It's funny the things that get you ... and the things that don't, when you walk this part of this kind of journey. One morning before Christmas I was in the post office. One letter to mail. There was the usual post office humdrum and conversation (comforting really ...), the rotating rack of greeting cards, the smell of newsprint, the reassuring presence of people just like me, waiting in line. Normal life.

A poster of coming holiday stamps was up and my eyes sifted through them thinking which ones I might like to use this year. Such a regular, routine activity. Yet after 2 + years of constant change and nothing dependable from season to season or year to year, for that matter, it's a deliciously conventional feeling ... like, 'wow, my life may approach some semblance of normalcy, and I can think about doing normal things at normal times again!'

I'm Grateful: The Journey From Autumn to the Most Wonderful Event in History (Part 3)

Every year when the bounty of summer starts to give way to the mysterious and ancient winds of change that are Autumn
when leaves fall
when skies are blustery
when hopes of something secret and riveting
hidden in the deep sleep of winter flicker on frosty air
when squirrels busily eat the red berries off the dogwood trees
and here in South Sudan when grasses die
when the mud turns to dust and clay
when the vibrancy of rainy season is sucked away by the sun
when the days burn off the humidity
and the nights find me snuggled away from the chill under multiple blankets, candles lit -

I'm Grateful: South Sudan (Part 2)

I'm grateful this year, to be back in South Sudan. Surrounded by the earthy Moru existence that I love so well. By drums, and gourd shakers, and dancing, singing friends in church. To know the words of the Moru hymns and pipe in heartily with my own voice - loud enough to make me happily hoarse afterwards - like everyone else.

I'm Grateful: The Premise (penned last Thanksgiving)

I am sitting at my desk this morning, eating a particularly fine set of soaked grain pancakes obscured by mountains of fresh mulberries, bananas, soaked almonds, cultured pumpkin spice syrup, and the last little bits of an apple brought from Juba. And I thought to myself, "Larissa, I want to write a list today.  It's Thanksgiving, and I want to give thanks." But not as an exercise or duty.  Not a guilt-driven "I should be grateful" activity. Rather, as a response. An outpouring of delight in all the things I love and have been so blessed to have experienced and influenced by.

Break, Planes, and this African Life

Yesterday’s departure from Mundri for our break was like a scene out of Home Alone.  The one where everyone finds out they slept in because the alarm clock didn’t go off and they might miss their flight. They jump into a flurry of frenzied activity, throwing things into suitcases, running about the house getting this or that, and squeezing into the airport van hoping that they haven’t left anyone or anything behind.

24-ish Hours of Wow

It’s been a rare 24 hours indeed.  As I stood sopping wet from the shower getting ready to go to town for some errands, my friend Cici called.  Her very pregnant sister Maria was in labor, the baby sitting bum-side down, and things were not looking good.  Maria already has 6 children, and none of her labors have ever been as bad or long as this.  Cici asked if we might be able to help them get to the hospital in Lui (17 miles away - but an hour or so by car, owing to the bad roads).  'Of course!’

One minor problem.  Our main vehicle (Brown Sugar - the land cruiser that seats 11) had just been taken by another team to Mvolo.  Our other vehicle (White Bull - the water truck that sits 3 in the cab) had been taken by our friend Rooney to do a bore hole repair.  Someone had seen him pull back into town this afternoon, but he hadn’t shown up at our place yet.  And we couldn't seem to reach him by phone.

Isaiah 58

My it has been a while.  Or a year and a half!

The silence (without going into a 5 volume novel about this missing chunk of time) has been a result of being exorbitantly busy, then burnt out to a smoldering piece of bacon, then spending time healing.

I'm just now starting to feel snatches of my old self (and a new self) emerge from the rubble with an undeniable and ever-growing helping of 'chutzpah,' as my old roommate Heidi would say.  :)  I actually feel excited about things.  And the excitement is paired with a hope that I might really be able to get back on my two feet and bring something to the table after all this time.

At some point, I think I'd like to share a little of what has transpired in these months - both from a mental/emotional/spiritual perspective, as well as from a physical perspective (including the awesome things I have learned about health & medicine, and using good food and lifestyle habits to nurse my body back to health).  But I'll leave that for another day.

Today I'll share a passage that Heather, wife of Shawn - both of whom are now leading the Serge (formerly World Harvest) team in South Sudan -  shared with us today.  And I share it because it so clearly expresses the work that it seems God has been doing in my life over the last eight months in the US, and a brilliant hope for the work that we are reopening with a host of new teammates shortly.

Isaiah 58:10-12

If you pour out yourself for the hungry
and satisfy the desire of the afflicted,
then shall your light rise up in the darkness
and your gloom be as the noonday.
And the LORD will guide you continually
and satisfy your desire in the scorched places
and make your bones strong;
and you shall be like a watered garden,
like a spring of water,
whose waters do not fail.
And your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt,
you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;
you shall be called the repairer of the breach;
the restorer of streets to dwell in.

The passage is aimed at the people of Israel but gets to the heart of what God desires for and of His people throughout time.  Such a beautiful picture!

Please pray that this is what God would be using us to do.  Currently, my former teammate Scott and new teammate Justin are on the ground in Mundri, shortly to be joined by our new team leaders (early September), followed by two other new teammates (Will & Theresa), and myself (sometime in that same window, Lord willing).  It's been a long hiatus, but He knows what He's doing and I'm ever so excited to see what is next.