Who knew that it could be so difficult to adjust to life back in America? Solveig and I compared notes today and discovered we’re both struggling a bit to settle back in... We acknowledged that we did get a bit of attention in Africa, and now of course we’re nobodies again. But I think there’s something else going on.
God so clearly led us to Cameroon and we felt totally dependent on Him while we were there. While God also clearly brought us back home and we are totally dependent on Him here…it doesn’t feel quite the same. I feel like I should be more independent here, more capable, more worthy... And perhaps I shouldn’t even bother God so much, because after all, I’m back in the States. I should be able to take care of everyday life here without relying so heavily on Him - right?
Well, the truth is, I don’t want to go back to normal life. I like life much better when I’m totally relying on Him. Maybe I’m not such a big fan of ordinary after all. Or maybe I need to redefine my life here. Maybe this trip is a catalyst to a different life, or maybe simply to a different way of living my current life.
I really don’t know what this all means, but I'm convinced I need to rely heavily on Him – right here in Wisconsin. I clearly do need to "bother" Him a lot, and I cannot simply make it through everyday life here without Him. Nor do I want to. I need His touch, His guidance and His leading. I’m desperate for it.
Hope I settle in soon... But not too much...
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Home and thankful
Tuesday, 2/8/11 -- I'm on the plane headed home from Africa, via a stop at the Paris airport… Actually only a couple of hours of flight time left, and I’m excited to get home, and I want to post a quick update of praise because I’m in awe of how God has blessed this trip and I know many of you have continued to pray faithfully – thank you!
So many times over the last two weeks, Solveig and I have simply looked at each other and been virtually speechless about the wonderful way God was working out the details of our trip. One of those topic areas – and one I specifically asked many to pray for – was my health: that I would not get sick in Africa.
When we arrived back in N’Djamena a couple of days ago and were talking with Kjersten (she and her husband run the guest house), she asked if either of us had become ill in Yagoua. When we told her that “no, we remained well the whole time,” her eyes got big, and she said, “Wow, you must really have strong stomachs!” At that moment I realized just how much God had been answering the health prayers, for Kjersten sees and talks with a lot of visitors in Chad and Cameroon; evidently many of them experience at least one episode of sickness.
There were times when I started to worry about the possibility of becoming sick, but then I remembered how God had opened up this trip in a definite way. With His help I determined that worry is an insult to Him, and His Spirit helped me claim His promises and rebuke the spirit of worry I was fighting. I also remembered all the people who were praying, and knew that He was listening. He definitely answered those prayers!
I will have more trip stories to share in the days and weeks ahead… And I’m excited to see what God has planned next. I'll not doubt that He will show me, and I won't worry about what the next step/s regarding this call to write may be. For now, I will simply rest a bit and re-acclimate to life in Wisconsin, where it is 100 degrees cooler...
[With some difficulty in N’Djamena, I did find out that the Packers won the Super Bowl on Sunday, which pleased me greatly. A handful of flashy Green Bay Packer bookmarks were distributed in Yagoua last week. If the bookmark recipients had heard of the Packers, or even the Super Bowl, I bet they would be prizing these little trinkets right now. But alas, most hadn’t... Yet it does make me smile to know that some green and gold exists in Yagoua...during this very appropriate week.]
So many times over the last two weeks, Solveig and I have simply looked at each other and been virtually speechless about the wonderful way God was working out the details of our trip. One of those topic areas – and one I specifically asked many to pray for – was my health: that I would not get sick in Africa.
When we arrived back in N’Djamena a couple of days ago and were talking with Kjersten (she and her husband run the guest house), she asked if either of us had become ill in Yagoua. When we told her that “no, we remained well the whole time,” her eyes got big, and she said, “Wow, you must really have strong stomachs!” At that moment I realized just how much God had been answering the health prayers, for Kjersten sees and talks with a lot of visitors in Chad and Cameroon; evidently many of them experience at least one episode of sickness.
There were times when I started to worry about the possibility of becoming sick, but then I remembered how God had opened up this trip in a definite way. With His help I determined that worry is an insult to Him, and His Spirit helped me claim His promises and rebuke the spirit of worry I was fighting. I also remembered all the people who were praying, and knew that He was listening. He definitely answered those prayers!
I will have more trip stories to share in the days and weeks ahead… And I’m excited to see what God has planned next. I'll not doubt that He will show me, and I won't worry about what the next step/s regarding this call to write may be. For now, I will simply rest a bit and re-acclimate to life in Wisconsin, where it is 100 degrees cooler...
[With some difficulty in N’Djamena, I did find out that the Packers won the Super Bowl on Sunday, which pleased me greatly. A handful of flashy Green Bay Packer bookmarks were distributed in Yagoua last week. If the bookmark recipients had heard of the Packers, or even the Super Bowl, I bet they would be prizing these little trinkets right now. But alas, most hadn’t... Yet it does make me smile to know that some green and gold exists in Yagoua...during this very appropriate week.]
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Herborg Revne remembered
Friday, 2/4/11 -- Today I stood at my grandma’s grave and cried. I have absolutely no memories of her, as she died when I was two, yet today I feel like I know her. I’ve been in her Africa, her Cameroon, and her Yagoua.
We left Yagoua around 9 a.m. and arrived in Kaele by 10:30. A group of pastors met us in a car along the road and led us to the church, where about thirty people gathered under shade trees where some chairs had been set up for us. Pastor Dieudonne Djoubairou – the man I met in Wisconsin last Easter Sunday – worked to organize this reception, even though he’s away at school. It was very special. First, the women – in their matching, brightly colored dresses and head scarves – sang for us. It was a song was about the Revnes bringing the gospel to Cameroon. Then they led me to her grave, which was fenced in by wire. A pastor opened the fence for me and I stood over the gravestone, and read:
Mrs. Herborg Revne
May 9, 1884 to Feb. 18, 1960
Romans 8:28
Emotions washed over me and tears flowed. I was standing in Africa at my grandma’s grave. It didn’t seem possible. Yet here I was, finally honoring the woman who died so far away from her son and daughter-in-law and grandchildren. Being the first grandchild to make it over here, I felt the responsibility of these moments also, as I was representing my sisters, too.
The people gathered around me got very quiet and I heard some sympathetic murmurs from the women as they watched me weep and dig tissues out of my bag. Then one of the pastors who was standing close to me, kindly put his hand on my shoulder and led us all in a prayer – in Moundang, the language of Kaele. After that, we took some pictures, I took a final moment at her body’s resting place, and we walked back to the chairs under the trees.
Oh death, where is thy sting? Oh grave, where is thy victory? My Grandma lives because Jesus died and rose again. She humbled herself and accepted the free gift of salvation, from God, her Heavenly Father.
The people thanked me for coming. They said it was a good thing for me to do. I greeted them with some words and a pastor who spoke English translated for me. One of the pastors greeted us with some words – Solveig translated for me. Then they sang more songs for us – one about another pioneer missionary couple, the Kaardals. We prayed, ate a delicious meal, had a tour, and then we left, with many handshakes, smiles, thank yous and goodbyes.
I’m extremely tired tonight. I’m emotionally drained, yet content. Tomorrow we begin our trek back to N’Djamena, then two days later – our first of two flights home. Grandma’s Africa will not be forgotten, however. I told my new family in Kaele that I would keep them in my prayers.
Solveig told me today, “I think you’ll be back sometime.” I don’t know for sure about that. But I do think part of me has been here for a long time…
The neem tree
Wednesday, 2/2/11 -- Since arriving in Yagoua last Saturday, I’ve been admiring the beautiful neem trees that are so plentiful here. They are majestic and lovely to look at – I can’t imagine anyone visiting Yagoua without noticing their beauty. They line the road leading up to the mission, their branches spreading over it to make an inviting green tunnel of shade. And they can be found all through Yagoua, where they not only supply natural beauty to this sand-colored community, but provide necessary and soothing relief from the intense Africa sun. Neither are small roles.
This morning, while visiting with Daboy – a man who faithfully worked with, and for, my Grandpa for many years – I learned that Grandpa brought the neem tree to Yagoua. I looked at Solveig and Jonas in disbelief and asked them if this was really true: “Were there no neem trees in Yagoua until my grandpa brought them here from Nigeria?” They nodded and smiled, and confirmed it was true. These trees which I had been admiring and thinking Yagoua special for having, only exist here because Grandpa thought Yagoua needed them. This endearing piece of news to me was more than I could handle. I cried…
My love and admiration for my grandpa and grandma peaked as I realized in a new way how much they cared for the people of Yagoua and wanted them to have a better life on this earth, as well as in the eternity ahead. How many people have been cooled from the scorching sun over the years by these trees? How many have leaned their tired bodies against the wide trunks for a shady break? How many have cooked food over fires from the neem’s branches? This tree is no small contribution. But there is more…
Jonas told me to ask Daboy about the gardens too. These are the well-designed, beautifully-kept gardens throughout the community, which I had been admiring, as well. I had seen women selling beautiful vegetables from them at the side of the road, and have been eating some delicious, safely-prepared produce from them at mealtime. Well, evidently the gardens were brought here by Grandpa and Grandma too.
And as if that wasn’t enough for me to take in and process…so were the brick huts and buildings. No one knew how to make bricks and build with them in Yagoua before Grandpa taught them how. While I did know this fact before, I didn’t comprehend all that it meant. There is a lot of brick in Yagoua today.
Now I see Grandpa and Grandma everywhere I go. I see a shady neem tree in front of a brick hut, with an expansive garden nearby – and I see them. In fact, this greater Yagoua community of about 150,000 people seems to be full of Grandpa and Grandma! Praise God for what He accomplished through them.
If my grandparents – imperfect people – can love and help others like this, how great is our almighty God’s ability to love and help us? Is it not endless?
And, if God used my willing Grandpa and Grandma to spread His love and care, I have no doubt He can use willing you and me, too. No loving accomplishment is too insignificant or too great when God is in it. Find a tree that’s needed and plant it in Jesus’ name!
“It is the same with my word. I send it out, and it always produces fruit. It will accomplish all I want it to, and it will prosper everywhere I send it… Where once there were thorns, cypress trees will grow…” (Isaiah 55:11&13 NLT)
This morning, while visiting with Daboy – a man who faithfully worked with, and for, my Grandpa for many years – I learned that Grandpa brought the neem tree to Yagoua. I looked at Solveig and Jonas in disbelief and asked them if this was really true: “Were there no neem trees in Yagoua until my grandpa brought them here from Nigeria?” They nodded and smiled, and confirmed it was true. These trees which I had been admiring and thinking Yagoua special for having, only exist here because Grandpa thought Yagoua needed them. This endearing piece of news to me was more than I could handle. I cried…
My love and admiration for my grandpa and grandma peaked as I realized in a new way how much they cared for the people of Yagoua and wanted them to have a better life on this earth, as well as in the eternity ahead. How many people have been cooled from the scorching sun over the years by these trees? How many have leaned their tired bodies against the wide trunks for a shady break? How many have cooked food over fires from the neem’s branches? This tree is no small contribution. But there is more…
Jonas told me to ask Daboy about the gardens too. These are the well-designed, beautifully-kept gardens throughout the community, which I had been admiring, as well. I had seen women selling beautiful vegetables from them at the side of the road, and have been eating some delicious, safely-prepared produce from them at mealtime. Well, evidently the gardens were brought here by Grandpa and Grandma too.
And as if that wasn’t enough for me to take in and process…so were the brick huts and buildings. No one knew how to make bricks and build with them in Yagoua before Grandpa taught them how. While I did know this fact before, I didn’t comprehend all that it meant. There is a lot of brick in Yagoua today.
Now I see Grandpa and Grandma everywhere I go. I see a shady neem tree in front of a brick hut, with an expansive garden nearby – and I see them. In fact, this greater Yagoua community of about 150,000 people seems to be full of Grandpa and Grandma! Praise God for what He accomplished through them.
If my grandparents – imperfect people – can love and help others like this, how great is our almighty God’s ability to love and help us? Is it not endless?
And, if God used my willing Grandpa and Grandma to spread His love and care, I have no doubt He can use willing you and me, too. No loving accomplishment is too insignificant or too great when God is in it. Find a tree that’s needed and plant it in Jesus’ name!
“It is the same with my word. I send it out, and it always produces fruit. It will accomplish all I want it to, and it will prosper everywhere I send it… Where once there were thorns, cypress trees will grow…” (Isaiah 55:11&13 NLT)
Jesus and hope
Monday, 1/31/11 -- Like every day of this trip, God again was so faithful to Solveig and me today. Solveig, as main coordinator and translator is going between three different languages and doing very well…but it’s a lot of work for her, and I fear it can drain almost as much energy as the heat. She’s reminded me a few times that she’s older than me, but I think she’s doing wonderfully with it all.
I, on the other hand, feel like a needy consumer. I consume Solveig’s linguistic knowledge and generosity, as she patiently translates for me, and I also consume many people’s kindnesses along the way. No one is complaining, gratefully. Solveig is so gracious and patient, and the people we are meeting seem genuinely eager and pleased to see and meet with us. Yet, I’m often asking God to please make sure this trip accomplishes His purposes – both in me and in others. I have to trust Him to bring this about, and pray that I won’t miss the reason I’m here, because the needs I see all around me are overwhelming, and I didn’t come to simply consume others’ hospitality and kindnesses.
We sat in a home (round, dirt floor, with thatched roof) today, huddled in chairs and on stools around a sick woman who was lying on the floor on a mattress. We were conversing with this group of people who knew Solveig and knew my dad and grandparents – along with a few younger people who didn’t know them. These were believers in Jesus Christ, and our fellowship with them was sweet, and my heart was aching for the woman on the mattress who almost shares my name – Anna. I am praying for her earnestly…that God would heal her quickly or take her home to be with Him very soon. That is her prayer, also.
I wondered a lot today about how the good news of freedom from sin by faith in Jesus has helped these people. It’s the reason my grandparents spent forty years here. Were those worthwhile years, in light of the difficult living conditions (that is how I will phrase it – they did not complain one bit to us) that I saw today? God’s power is awesome…He could certainly intervene so that this woman does not have to suffer with flies swarming around her. Yet there she lies…
The verse I kept hearing in my mind as I wrestled with this, goes something like, “In this world you will have trouble, but fear not; I have overcome the world.” Without heaven ahead of us, where there will be no sin or sickness or death, I’m pretty sure I should discard my beliefs. And without promises of life eternal with things like gold streets and things so good I can’t imagine, I should likely just live for today and not care much about anything or anyone else. And most of all, without heaven…without being with my Savior who I love so much, this life doesn’t make much sense and there is not enough justice.
My grandparents brought people in Yagoua something called hope through the knowledge of, and by entering into a relationship with, Jesus Christ. And while life is extremely difficult for many people around the world; once individuals know Jesus personally, they have His presence with them always – even if lying sick on a thin mattress in a very hot, dusty place. Individuals like Anna can look forward, with confidence, to eternal life in heaven, where wrongs and inequities will finally be righted, for good.
Before we gave a few small gifts and took “family” pictures of this group, the oldest, Anna’s husband, Foutisou – a man of about 80, who knew my grandpa – prayed with us, at our request. We all bowed our heads and he stood up...
I couldn’t understand anything he said, except for the beginning, when he started by praying “to the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob – and the God of Yagoua…” Solveig and my tears began flowing at that point, and continued through his lengthy prayer in Masana – the language my grandpa wrote down, and translated the Word of God into. My grandpa did this to share Jesus and hope with the people of Yagoua.
I, on the other hand, feel like a needy consumer. I consume Solveig’s linguistic knowledge and generosity, as she patiently translates for me, and I also consume many people’s kindnesses along the way. No one is complaining, gratefully. Solveig is so gracious and patient, and the people we are meeting seem genuinely eager and pleased to see and meet with us. Yet, I’m often asking God to please make sure this trip accomplishes His purposes – both in me and in others. I have to trust Him to bring this about, and pray that I won’t miss the reason I’m here, because the needs I see all around me are overwhelming, and I didn’t come to simply consume others’ hospitality and kindnesses.
We sat in a home (round, dirt floor, with thatched roof) today, huddled in chairs and on stools around a sick woman who was lying on the floor on a mattress. We were conversing with this group of people who knew Solveig and knew my dad and grandparents – along with a few younger people who didn’t know them. These were believers in Jesus Christ, and our fellowship with them was sweet, and my heart was aching for the woman on the mattress who almost shares my name – Anna. I am praying for her earnestly…that God would heal her quickly or take her home to be with Him very soon. That is her prayer, also.
I wondered a lot today about how the good news of freedom from sin by faith in Jesus has helped these people. It’s the reason my grandparents spent forty years here. Were those worthwhile years, in light of the difficult living conditions (that is how I will phrase it – they did not complain one bit to us) that I saw today? God’s power is awesome…He could certainly intervene so that this woman does not have to suffer with flies swarming around her. Yet there she lies…
The verse I kept hearing in my mind as I wrestled with this, goes something like, “In this world you will have trouble, but fear not; I have overcome the world.” Without heaven ahead of us, where there will be no sin or sickness or death, I’m pretty sure I should discard my beliefs. And without promises of life eternal with things like gold streets and things so good I can’t imagine, I should likely just live for today and not care much about anything or anyone else. And most of all, without heaven…without being with my Savior who I love so much, this life doesn’t make much sense and there is not enough justice.
My grandparents brought people in Yagoua something called hope through the knowledge of, and by entering into a relationship with, Jesus Christ. And while life is extremely difficult for many people around the world; once individuals know Jesus personally, they have His presence with them always – even if lying sick on a thin mattress in a very hot, dusty place. Individuals like Anna can look forward, with confidence, to eternal life in heaven, where wrongs and inequities will finally be righted, for good.
Before we gave a few small gifts and took “family” pictures of this group, the oldest, Anna’s husband, Foutisou – a man of about 80, who knew my grandpa – prayed with us, at our request. We all bowed our heads and he stood up...
I couldn’t understand anything he said, except for the beginning, when he started by praying “to the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob – and the God of Yagoua…” Solveig and my tears began flowing at that point, and continued through his lengthy prayer in Masana – the language my grandpa wrote down, and translated the Word of God into. My grandpa did this to share Jesus and hope with the people of Yagoua.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Grandchildren become friends
Sunday, 1/30/11-- So I’ve not been able to publish any posts yet (no personal internet connectivity found, though I’m asking nearly everyone I meet). And I’m actually sitting in the dark right now, but for the light of this computer. The electricity in all of Yagoua has been off for the past 12 or so hours. I was laying here in the dark, sweating and praying it would come back on – when much to my excitement it did, so I turned on my computer, as it’s only 8:30 p.m… But it just went off again, so I’m thinking I may have to shut this down and finish later. My computer fan is working too hard to keep the computer cool…
I keep quoting that “God delights in every detail of our lives.” (Ps. 37: 23), and I’m asking Him if this hot darkness is delighting Him… He is a big God and has the big picture in mind. Yet I’m a small person and would love for the lights and fan to come back on.
Today was a God-blessed day. We arrived for church late, but they were waiting for us and rang the bell just after our driver got us there. (The lights and fan just went back on – thank you God. I almost longed for the cold of Wisconsin a little while ago but the fan may have had to be off all night for that to happen. And, I better not joke about this just yet…) It was all I could do to not cry through the whole church service, as I worshipped in spirit with people (mostly children of people) my grandparents had spent their lives trying to reach with the good news of Jesus. I so wanted to stop the service and ask if they are staying close to the Lord, and not simply attending church, but I didn’t think that would be appropriate. (And I wouldn’t know how to ask it in Masana or French, anyway.) I’m pretty sure the answer would vary by person, like it does in the US.
The children were the ones I connected with most, as they quickly, shyly, and genuinely returned my smiles. Adults gathered around us after the service to shake our hands and greet us, and it was then that Jonas, reached out to me in English and mentioned my grandparents’ house, and was pointing to a building just behind the church.
This caught me by surprise so I asked him if he was sure that was the house and he said, “Yes. Come and see!” As I approached the building, so famous to me from pictures, tears welled up and I couldn’t speak. Jonas simply smiled at me and nodded. It is a pretty dilapidated building but it was beautiful to me. I walked up on the veranda, as little iguanas (or similar) scattered, and pictured my grandma pouring mid-day tea. Two older men were sitting nearby on a bench so I pulled out my pictures of the house from years ago and showed them, as well as Jonas. Then Jonas pointed to a picture I had of the Model T and said, “You want to see the car?”
I just laughed, thinking it was a joke. And then he asked again… He took me to a grassy spot about 100 feet away. There, low to the ground sat a lovely rusted chunk of chassis – my grandpa’s Model T Ford! (For more about this Model T, see this post.) I handed him my camera and sat on the remnants of the car, laughing at this unexpected historical encounter. But the best part of the day was yet to come…
Sunday afternoon found Solveig and I resting in our separate rooms at the Catholic mission – our beautiful, peaceful “hotel” on the outskirts of Yagoua. We were hot and tired and wanted to rest before Jonas was arriving at 3 p.m. to talk about a project he’s working on which may intersect somehow with my writing project.
Around 3:15 Jonas and Augustine arrived and by the time they left at 6 p.m. I had two brand new, awesome brothers. Jonas and Augustine are not related to each other or to me, but get this: our grandfathers all knew each other and worked together! Their grandfathers were two of the first three pastors that graduated from the Cameroon seminary. And since both Jonas and Augustine speak English quite well (they say not so well, but I disagree), we had so much to talk about. They are followers of Christ and share many of the same concerns that Solveig and I share. The hours flew by and when they left, I was praising God for bringing all of us together. We took pictures and exchanged contact information. We will try to stay connected for sure, but whether that happens or not, I’m looking forward to hanging out with these brothers in heaven some day.
I keep quoting that “God delights in every detail of our lives.” (Ps. 37: 23), and I’m asking Him if this hot darkness is delighting Him… He is a big God and has the big picture in mind. Yet I’m a small person and would love for the lights and fan to come back on.
Today was a God-blessed day. We arrived for church late, but they were waiting for us and rang the bell just after our driver got us there. (The lights and fan just went back on – thank you God. I almost longed for the cold of Wisconsin a little while ago but the fan may have had to be off all night for that to happen. And, I better not joke about this just yet…) It was all I could do to not cry through the whole church service, as I worshipped in spirit with people (mostly children of people) my grandparents had spent their lives trying to reach with the good news of Jesus. I so wanted to stop the service and ask if they are staying close to the Lord, and not simply attending church, but I didn’t think that would be appropriate. (And I wouldn’t know how to ask it in Masana or French, anyway.) I’m pretty sure the answer would vary by person, like it does in the US.
The children were the ones I connected with most, as they quickly, shyly, and genuinely returned my smiles. Adults gathered around us after the service to shake our hands and greet us, and it was then that Jonas, reached out to me in English and mentioned my grandparents’ house, and was pointing to a building just behind the church.
This caught me by surprise so I asked him if he was sure that was the house and he said, “Yes. Come and see!” As I approached the building, so famous to me from pictures, tears welled up and I couldn’t speak. Jonas simply smiled at me and nodded. It is a pretty dilapidated building but it was beautiful to me. I walked up on the veranda, as little iguanas (or similar) scattered, and pictured my grandma pouring mid-day tea. Two older men were sitting nearby on a bench so I pulled out my pictures of the house from years ago and showed them, as well as Jonas. Then Jonas pointed to a picture I had of the Model T and said, “You want to see the car?”
Sunday afternoon found Solveig and I resting in our separate rooms at the Catholic mission – our beautiful, peaceful “hotel” on the outskirts of Yagoua. We were hot and tired and wanted to rest before Jonas was arriving at 3 p.m. to talk about a project he’s working on which may intersect somehow with my writing project.
Around 3:15 Jonas and Augustine arrived and by the time they left at 6 p.m. I had two brand new, awesome brothers. Jonas and Augustine are not related to each other or to me, but get this: our grandfathers all knew each other and worked together! Their grandfathers were two of the first three pastors that graduated from the Cameroon seminary. And since both Jonas and Augustine speak English quite well (they say not so well, but I disagree), we had so much to talk about. They are followers of Christ and share many of the same concerns that Solveig and I share. The hours flew by and when they left, I was praising God for bringing all of us together. We took pictures and exchanged contact information. We will try to stay connected for sure, but whether that happens or not, I’m looking forward to hanging out with these brothers in heaven some day.
93 years later
Friday…1/28/11--Yesterday I landed on African soil, 93 years after my grandparents arrived here. Seeing the lights of N’Djamena as our plane approached made me wonder what they saw as their ship drew near their port of arrival. I wondered at their sense of excitement and wonder, knowing that they were somewhat stuck here for a few years in this new-to-them land, while I know I’m planning to fly back home in two weeks…
So now it’s 8:30 Saturday night – my first night in Yagoua. I won’t be able to post this until tomorrow (well that didn’t happen) but I cannot go to bed tonight without corralling a few thoughts from the day. I know many of you have been praying faithfully for Solveig and me, and those prayers have been noticed in a big way. Items of praise from today’s critical travel day (from N’Djamena, Chad to Yagoua, Cameroon) include:
• A fender bender before we even got out of N’Djamena – which could have been ugly, but wasn’t.
• Four smooth highway toll stops…none were the least bit scary…simply needed to pay the standard fee for traveling the paved, yet pot-holed road.
• Enough gas in the tank for the last 12 kilometers to Bongor, even though the low gas indicator light was on, and we hadn’t figured out how to access the second tank yet.
• Four passport checks – two in Chad, and two in Cameroon. Officials patiently copied our information into their lined, legal sized notebooks; they had no concerns.
• No potty stop needed. This is critical since there are no “rest areas” along this route. When I asked our missionary host in N’Djamena if there would be any rest areas, he smiled and said “there are lots of bushes.” Borderline dehydration worked well, and God blessed. (In fact I didn’t need a “rest area” for seven hours, which may be a new, post-child-bearing record for me. )
• The nicest people have been driving us, directing us and helping us…the entire trip. May God bless them all!
And speaking of God…our Heavenly Father truly went ahead of us to prepare the details – prayers are being answered. I’ve not been afraid, though I must say the driving of vehicles and motorbikes here is beyond description, and at some early point I determined, beyond fear.
The most surreal part of today for me was crossing the Lagone River into Cameroon. We walked in sand the length of a football field (U.S. football, that is) to get to the edge of the river – with young boys carrying our bags on top of their heads! The poor boy who flung mine up on his head… We paid him for sure, but I can’t imagine it was enough to compensate for the shock to his head. And I hate to admit it, but these boys were half the sandy field ahead of us in no time at all. Perhaps it was because of my long skirt and scarf-tied head, but for whatever reason I found myself thinking about Meryl Streep in Out of Africa. We were creating a bit of a scene in these increasingly remote places. School children would come up to us and smile and shake our hands. Adults would simply stare, as I would have, wondering who these silly, white women are, no doubt…
Our actual time on the river was under 15 minutes...dry season. I climbed out of the canoe (not easy with my long skirt, now dusty and wet on the edge) and entered Cameroon. Cameroon, the land of my grandparents... There was enough moisture left in me for a few tears, and I wondered if God was allowing my grandparents in heaven to see me enter their country.
So now it’s 8:30 Saturday night – my first night in Yagoua. I won’t be able to post this until tomorrow (well that didn’t happen) but I cannot go to bed tonight without corralling a few thoughts from the day. I know many of you have been praying faithfully for Solveig and me, and those prayers have been noticed in a big way. Items of praise from today’s critical travel day (from N’Djamena, Chad to Yagoua, Cameroon) include:
• A fender bender before we even got out of N’Djamena – which could have been ugly, but wasn’t.
• Four smooth highway toll stops…none were the least bit scary…simply needed to pay the standard fee for traveling the paved, yet pot-holed road.
• Enough gas in the tank for the last 12 kilometers to Bongor, even though the low gas indicator light was on, and we hadn’t figured out how to access the second tank yet.
• Four passport checks – two in Chad, and two in Cameroon. Officials patiently copied our information into their lined, legal sized notebooks; they had no concerns.
• No potty stop needed. This is critical since there are no “rest areas” along this route. When I asked our missionary host in N’Djamena if there would be any rest areas, he smiled and said “there are lots of bushes.” Borderline dehydration worked well, and God blessed. (In fact I didn’t need a “rest area” for seven hours, which may be a new, post-child-bearing record for me. )
• The nicest people have been driving us, directing us and helping us…the entire trip. May God bless them all!
And speaking of God…our Heavenly Father truly went ahead of us to prepare the details – prayers are being answered. I’ve not been afraid, though I must say the driving of vehicles and motorbikes here is beyond description, and at some early point I determined, beyond fear.
The most surreal part of today for me was crossing the Lagone River into Cameroon. We walked in sand the length of a football field (U.S. football, that is) to get to the edge of the river – with young boys carrying our bags on top of their heads! The poor boy who flung mine up on his head… We paid him for sure, but I can’t imagine it was enough to compensate for the shock to his head. And I hate to admit it, but these boys were half the sandy field ahead of us in no time at all. Perhaps it was because of my long skirt and scarf-tied head, but for whatever reason I found myself thinking about Meryl Streep in Out of Africa. We were creating a bit of a scene in these increasingly remote places. School children would come up to us and smile and shake our hands. Adults would simply stare, as I would have, wondering who these silly, white women are, no doubt…
Our actual time on the river was under 15 minutes...dry season. I climbed out of the canoe (not easy with my long skirt, now dusty and wet on the edge) and entered Cameroon. Cameroon, the land of my grandparents... There was enough moisture left in me for a few tears, and I wondered if God was allowing my grandparents in heaven to see me enter their country.
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