Beets, Beats, Rhythms and Snakes

There is a one room building at the bottom far corner of the property, surrounded by lush green trees that are often ornamented with little grey monkeys, a tiny flower garden, and short rust colored dirt paths that lead off to quiet benches clearly inviting prayer and reflection. The birds’ eye view of this building presents a simple square, which to me sounds plain, ordinary, and almost boring. However when you walk into this space, because the entrance is at the corner of the building, the perception  of the room becomes a diamond. When you enter from this angle, the room opens to each side inviting you like arms into an embrace. The ceiling also feeds this diamond illusion as the roof pushes upward with triangular skylights that simply and beautifully usher in more natural light. The opposite corner of the room holds prayers, a cross, a window: an invitation to focus as the walls return together to meet again. This is the chapel. Somehow the diamond in my mind is more special than a square. Somehow, well, because of what God does here, this seemingly small space is vast. It is a sacred meeting space where daily prayers and praises of everyone are raised to Our Father. It is here where we met as the Hands community this past Wednesday morning to praise the Lord and hear from Him before breaking a three day fast together.

Levy, one of the elders here, brought this year’s watchword to us. I don’t really know Levy  very well yet, but he sits in my mind with the same affection that I have for the voice of James Earl Jones.  While Levy’s voice nearly matches the depth of James’ timbre, his calm demeanor and serious eyes married to an authentic, patient, paternal smile makes it easy to trust and want to know him more. Not to mention he has a reputation amongst everyone as being a man who walks with Jesus, a man who is trustworthy and loved by all.  He brings a message, the watchword, from God’s word; a verse that serves as a theme for our year of laboring together in the Lord. It is an encouraging, convicting, challenging, and humbling passage, as the most precious jewels in scripture are. While I’m dying to share it with you and have even turned it into a song (because if you know me, this is just my favorite way to memorize anything, especially scripture) we’ve been asked not to share the verse until after the other Hands communities have been given the word next week.  So, sit tight and wait or go ahead and try to guess which scripture meets all of the above characteristics. Ha! I’m the worst.

My mother always said that hunger is the best sauce. I’m sure the soup was delicious even if we hadn’t been fasting, but the hunger made it one of the best soups I have ever consumed. This was a different kind of chicken soup for the soul. As we inhaled the soup, we exhaled with relief from fasting. A miracle that I didn’t notice until now is that God even brought rain and a cooler temperature to add to the enjoyment of the soup! I say this because it was very hot and humid before Wednesday morning and after. It’s as if God prepared the weather for us to enjoy the soup just as he prepared our spirits to receive the Word. He takes care of every detail. He provides beyond what we think to ask.

Monkeys escorting me on the road down to the chapel. (We have another house rule that the doors and windows must stay closed when we are not home so that the monkeys do not come in and help themselves to the food in our kitchen.)

In the blink of an eye our first week living in Africa has come and gone. Most of our time has been at the Hub here on the Hands property getting to know our neighbors, figuring out SIM cards, online car shopping for a practical vehicle to get us to town and school, and paperwork for getting everything in order for the year.

I am learning that the community here wakes with the sunrise (or earlier). They pray, exercise, and complete their household responsibilities before the rest of their day. For some of them this means waking at 4 so they can spend adequate time being quiet and spending time with the Lord: listening, praying, crying out, praising. They are no-nonsense about being intentional and investing time wisely where their values dictate they should be placed. Their no-nonsense attitude is not rigid or oppressive. It instead creates the backbone or foundations of the day; patterns and outlines that allow God’s plan to unfold and build upon a structured frame instead of just haphazardly always blowing in the wind. It’s an inspiring and encouraging atmosphere to get to live in. I have yet to be functional before 5am, but I think 5am may be our new normal wake up time if we need to get the kids out the door before 7am to make it to school on time. As I learned when we visited in 2022, 8pm is “missionary midnight.” I believe it. By 7pm the property is quiet (except for my children who are screaming for Mommy or Daddy, steps away in the next room because they need more water, or are afraid to go to the bathroom again by themselves, or some other normal thing that American children around the world yell about unapologetically at bedtime).

Zac needing a nap to compensate for being up late and waking with the dawn- see Papa and cousin Valerie on the wall? We brought these photos with us from Alameda

Here at Hands there are certain words that are repeated over and over again. They are part of the language, part of the culture, part of the identity of Hands. One of those words I’m finding is “rhythm.” They don’t call their schedules or routines as such, but instead the term used here is “rhythms.” How long and what time you wake, pray, eat, exercise, spend with family, friends, or work: all of these things fit into and flow through a rhythm. I heard our friend Michelle, who used to be in Africa but has since returned to Canada, say once that she missed, “the rhythm of the Hub.” I will keep this word. It sounds more like a heart beat than a checklist, more like a life-giving force than a taskmaster. This is the way I want the work in my life to be: steady, persevering, life-giving, flowing, far reaching, dependent, in harmony with the surrounding systems, humble but known, important even if hidden.

One of the beats of the community happens once every other week and tonight we are attending our first “bring and share” which we are learning is the equivalent of the American “potluck.” We have yet to attend a gathering where there was not a beet salad. I love beet salads- the vibrant color, the texture, all of the nutrients that I haven’t researched but just assume are in these healthy magenta roots. Bring it! Other beats include Monday morning Men’s prayer, Tuesday morning Women’s prayer, Wednesday small group, Thursday communion. Some have hard start and stop times, others have more flexibility such as communion on Thursdays where the elements (bread and juice) are available in the chapel throughout the morning whenever you are available to come and partake.

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In family news:

I’ve lost my American husband. While I can’t quite hear an accent of different pronunciation out of him, the intonation of his sentences are completely altered. I cannot tell if he’s asking a question or making a declarative statement anymore. I have to ask him to repeat everything because he sounds like a Canadian.  Our host family (in charge of showing us the ropes) is Canadian. I blame them. They’re lovely, helpful, friendly, super cool, and our kids are already fast friends with theirs, but their English is… well, it’s Canadian. To be fair though, I did start saying “Eh?” at the end of many sentences after visiting Canada in 2022… but you can still understand what I’m saying.

Ok, maybe I’ll try to record some of this nonsense, but basically a question from an American ends with an upward inflection. For instance if you asked “Would you pass the butter?” American Eric’s inflection of a question would look like this ——-v^ with a down then upward tic at the last word. South-African-Canadian-influenced Eric’s inflection of the exact same sentence looks and sounds like this ——-^v with a first up and then downward inflection at the end of a question. Try it. It’s so confusing. He asked me if I knew that we had a rolling pin.

“You know we have a rolling pin” try it with the different inflections. Is this a question? a statement? The inflection changes the meaning completely! I have enough on my language brain trying to figure out if people are speaking Swati or Bemba, I don’t need this in my marriage right now! Just kidding, it’s a little bit annoying and very amusing to hear the shift.

Unfortunately, the kids still sound the same. No cute little non-American accents have yet to be heard leaving their mouths. Tomorrow the kids start school, so that’s likely to change.

We’ve passed our Hands driving test and have been able to borrow/check out cars from the organization in order to run errands and get the kids’ school items like uniforms and stationery (their pencils/papers/erasers/etc). Driving on the wrong side of the road isn’t too bad, its the shifting gears with your left hand instead of your right, and making an extra effort to turn into the correct lane, going left on the roundabouts, and the turn signal being on the wrong side of the steering wheel that has us flipping on our windshield wipers every other turn and grinding gears like the last 20 years of driving has been rewound to the start.

In jungle news:

Eric encountered a Mozambique Spitting Cobra up against the house and helped kill and throw it over the fence. When I learned that this snake spits its venom up to 3 meters with accuracy and is one of the deadliest snakes in the world I thought I’d never leave the house again… but then I was told moments later that the snakes come inside too. So there’s that. Yes please pray that we never ever get poison spat at us or get bit by a snake. No seriously, I would appreciate this prayer over us. Thanks! I’m really feeling the protection David sang about in Psalm 91, especially verse 11, which talks about God commanding his angels to guard us. They are here protecting our kiddos as they play all day outside. And verse 13? Treading on that adder (or in this case Mozambique spitting cobras) and trampling that serpent underfoot. Yes and amen. Let us hold fast.

Trigger warning: dead snake

This week’s words that we don’t say in America (the same way):

trolley - grocery cart

loo/toilets - bathroom

shame - bummer/too bad

diary - schedule/planner book (not your journal)

journal - diary

What I’m listening to: Hillsong Afrikaans: Koning von Koning