here and humbled

Hello everyone.

First, forgive typos. We have 15 minutes to update you and that means I probably won't be proofreading. :)

Well, we did finally arrive in South Africa. We soon realized that our luggage decided not to follow us over, despite all of the assurance of United Airlines.

So, smelly and despairing, we made it. Only Saturday afternoon did we finally recieve our luggage. The blessing in all of it is this: We had the perspective of those we were coming to serve much sooner than we ever thought possible. We were gross and smelly and needing a bath. We were the object of charity from some lovely Australians who gave Stef some gear to keep warm at night. And we were forced to realized that when we said, "God, send us, we will give up everything," he intended to remind us that we might have to. In it all, we realized (again) that we would be taken care of no matter what, we are not in control, and that our joy is in no way connected to our things.

That said, what a wonderful day to finally have a change of clothing. What an incredible feeling to shower and put on washed garments. Forgive us what we take for granted.

Also, when we finally unpacked all of our belongings in our icy room at the Mission House, we were ashamed at how much we had. We felt a tremendous guilt. We went from nothing but the clothes on our backs to ridiculous wealth again. And we realized that we really didn't need it after all. (Sigh.) We are Americans. We all have too much stuff. But, oh, to see it in such a clear way - piled high as our poor friends tell us they are happy we got our stuff. I almost think we would have preferred in that shameful moment to have never recieved our bags at all. Needless to say, we are about to go on a giving spree. :)

Thanks for your messages and prayers. We are Ok. And we are learning more - quicker than you might imagine.

Kyle and Stef

in london with the Geico gecko

We made it out of America. Finally, this morning, 2am your time, we touched down at London's Heathrow Airport, which some of you might remember is not my favorite place in the world. It can make Kenya look organized.

It is as much of a nightmare as I remember from my last stop here, but we made it and I am in no position to complain. Stef is, as I type, sleeping curled up on another airport bench. The girl is developing a real talent for sleeping in public. Makes me proud. Of course, I could sleep through a tornado, which means that one of us has to stay up or else we'll be the easiest target for luggage theft in the history of mankind.

We actually took a trip into central London on the tube (London Underground) today. It was easy enough, as was meandering around the city on a quest for Stef's culinary holy grail: authentic British fish and chips. After quite a good bit of meandering (in the wet, 60 degree morning), we finally found a chap who reluctantly opened his shop a minute early (11:29am local time) so we could have our meal. Friendly guy. We overtipped him and chalked up his attitude to the fact that he hasn't seen the sun in 13 years. As for the food, it was, well, fish and chips. As the Geico gecko once said, "It's fish and chips...I mean, who doesn't like fish and chips?" What more can I add to that?

Somewhere in the middle of this taste explosion, we realized we were exhausted. The flight from London is only 7 hours long, so we didn't get but a couple of hours of "plane sleep" there. Added to our Chicago napping, that equaled not much sleep for 48 hours. All of which is why Stef is now sleeping peacefully on a bench and I am rambling happily about the Geico gecko. (In case you were wondering - and you weren't - I find the Geico gecko to be quite charming.)

Here is the bottom line: We made it to London. We have tickets that say we have seats on a plane to Joburg. We are only 19 more hours away from our destination. And hopefully a shower. (Even amidst the unwashed masses of the international terminal, I fear that I may be giving off quite the unwelcome funk. Now you know.) Anyway, we are starting to get excited.

Next stop, Africa.

some turbulence out of the gate

So, we had to cull 56 lbs from our luggage. We did what we could, became much lighter, and put our bags up on the scale in the San Antonio airport... 68 lbs each...

Our hearts sank. A deep sigh has become synonymous with a quick prayer for us lately. So it was a deep breath for each of us and a “please God” from my lips. The United Airlines employee saw our eyes and asked if our trip to Africa was military. He was searching for a way to give us a break.

“Missionaries,” I said. “We’re moving. Feeding kids and stuff.”

He looked over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear. “$50 for all four bags. I can’t charge missionaries full price. Just don’t tell anyone - no one has to know.”

Our first good break. Another deep sigh...”Thank you,” I whispered intending the words to reach his ears and the heavens.

We rushed to the gate. On to Chicago. Or so we thought. Thunderstorms in the midwest meant a delay of our flight leaving San Antonio. Thirty minutes quickly became 3 hours and our plane which was scheduled to leave SA at 5pm ended up in Chicago at 11pm.

Feeling pretty helpless, we trudged what seemed like miles to the gate where our Lufthansa flight to Germany (which would then whisk us to Joburg) was supposed to be leaving at 9:45pm. As we expected, we found a quiet gate. Our plane left us long ago.

Midnight in Chicago. Midnight in a eerily quiet airport. Our stomachs rumbled. Our hearts sank again. And we found a line to United Customer Service. Maybe they had some answers.

A woman named Nalena took our worthless boarding pass and gave me a “you’re screwed” kind of look. She said that she would reserve tickets for us on the next open planes on our route - letting me know that we would be arriving in Joburg on Friday morning, a full 48 hours after we had planned. Further, she explained, there were no available hotel rooms in the area because of all of the delays - not that we had that in the budget anyway.

Dejected, we began searching for a place to sleep. Good fortune brought us to Gate B10. Around the backside of the kiosk where the gate attendant answers questions was a bench in a relatively dark, relatively quiet spot. Praise God for small blessings. Stef curled up on the bench and I attached myself to our bags on the floor. My t-shirt became a pillow. She wadded up a pink sweatshirt - a blessing - as her pillow. A short tearful prayer and we drifted off to sleep.

It sucked. But, perspective is everything. Somewhere in Joburg, a family shivered to sleep on a dirt floor in the cold winter. And they didn’t have the hope of Starbucks opening at 5am to sustain them. To have that faith.... Forgive us, Father. We said thanks for the shelter and safety.

Around 5:30am, we rustled awake. Everything hurts and something smells. We decide that it is me. My breath or B.O. or some combination of both. And we’re looking at 72 hours until a shower. Thankful again. No one beyond redemption, right? Not even smelly Americans on a sticky airport floor...

After trying to clean up in the airport bathrooms, we went to stand in the line at the United ticket counter. After a short wait, we met Sayed Najim, the ticket agent. He, like Nalena, began what looked like a futile search. Stef did the talking for us after she pointed out that I was saying things that made no sense. She was right. I was clearly nonsensical.

Sayed tried to reroute us through Paris. No luck. London. A twenty minute phone call and -YES - London!! We could fly to London at 6:22pm Tuesday, then to Joburg at 9pm Wednesday night. We would be in Joburg 24 hours later than we first thought, but 24 hours earlier than we feared. “We’ll take it,” we said. Another quiet “thank you” left our lips, again seeking earthly ears and heavenly ones.

So, here we are. 11am in Chicago. We are 11 hours through our 19 hour layover. We are smelly. We are cranky. We are sore. We are humbled. We are missionaries. We are thankful.

Father, work all of this to your good, your glory. Father, quiet our hearts. Remind us of our privilege and the blessings in hardship. Teach us to love this place of difficulty. Give us eyes to see the hearts that hurt in the seat next to us. Give us hearts to understand the plan and the ways that this all represents you and your character. Above all, be blessed. We are trying to love people (and each other) as we go. Father, give us wisdom. All the roots grow deeper when it’s dry. Bless those we can touch, Sayed and Nalena. Give us rest. Wake us anew to bless your name. Father, you are good. We love you. Amen.

"you've gotta be kidding me"

we're flying out in a couple of hours...

and we've just found out that we have to cut 56 lbs from our luggage in order to get it on the plane. 56 lbs. that's a 2nd grader. (deep sigh)

praise the lord. we're moving to africa.

overwhelmed

Very simply, we are overwhelmed.

We are overwhelmed with the reality that we are going to live out of 3 suitcases for who knows how long - and that it all starts today.

We are overwhelmed by the love we have received as we leave.

Moving to Africa, I have learned, is one of the best ways to attend your own funeral. Understandably, people have been compelled to share with us as we go. So, for the beautiful eulogy, we can only say thank you.

Stef and I cannot imagine a more generous, supportive, loving set of family and friends than the one we have been given. Your tears have meant the world to us. Your anonymous notes (one filled with cash - thank you whoever you are), wonderful emails, and heartfelt tears have reminded us why we are doing what we are doing. The fact that we have anything to live on, much less anything to feed the orphans with, is completely due to the generosity of old friends and complete strangers. We are humbled and quieted by the outpouring. And we pray that your hearts are filled as you think of God’s beautiful children, once abandoned and alone, sitting in our arms, laughing and eating and just being children.

We go because our hearts are burdened for the people. We go because God so loved the world. We go...with you.

this beautiful mess

One of the most intriguing ways to connect with another human being is to read the same book. It's odd, really. You never have to touch or make eye contact. You don't need to be in the same room or even on the same continent. And somehow, it binds two souls together, so that when a hug is finally had or my eye meets yours we share something intimate and wonderful.

With that in mind, Stef and I will periodically share with you what it is we are reading. Maybe, from 9100 miles away, we can connect over a good book.

We've been wading through a thoughtful book by Rick McKinley. It is called "This Beautiful Mess - Practicing the Presence of the Kingdom of God". The subtitle immediately brings Brother Lawrence's "The Practice of the Presence of God" to mind. And if this was intended to be a modern companion, it does the former work justice.

Rick McKinley is the Pastor of Imago Dei, a progressive church in Portland that embraces activists and weirdos as integral parts of the body of Christ.

The most striking point of the book, as it's been interpreted by our hearts, is the idea that the Kingdom of God (or Kingdom of Heaven) is not something that needs to be stoked or "advanced" as is said in many Christian circles. Instead it is to be inhabited. McKinley likens our role in the Kingdom to that of a gardener. Lovingly, the gardener weeds and waters and creates a place where growth can occur. But the gardener cannot force growth. No amount of fertilizer can make it happen. He can do everything right - but in the end he is reliant on God to bring the new life from the dirt, from the remains of a broken seed. We are to be signposts to the truth of God and the Kingdom, seeking places of beauty and wonder in the world that has become much too cluttered, in the world that makes recognition of a living God more difficult every day.

"This Beautiful Mess" is a beautiful book. Maybe we'll discuss it over coffee one day. :)

not long now

Well, only 6 more nights left until we wake to leave for Africa. Time has flown by, to say the least.

We are ready to go - and at the same time we look around at our friends and family and know that we'll never be ready to leave.

Stef's sister Katy married Kyle's cousin Jeff....sounds weird but we checked out the family trees and everything is cool....and we got to spend a few good hours with so many people we love. Abilene people, Canyon friends, and San Antonio friends all made the night very special for us.

We will miss everyone much more than we even realize at the moment - but the memories from that night will help carry us until we can see everyone again. Love y'all. (By the way, gotta love that Joseph is going for the pinch there in the last pic...)