Today at church it was Global Missions day. We sung songs in different languages, Swahili, Spanish, Sanskrit, and Chinese. Pastor John talked about three simple facts. God is doing a work around the world. He can use us. And it's already happening. Something like that. I can't fully remember, because when we started praising God for what he was doing in Sudan by helping them break free of the North and having independence I just started crying. Then I cried the rest of the service. At times I just wanted to kneel down and just bawl. Something deep was happening in my spirit. I'm not totally sure what it was, but even as I write to you now, I can feel the stirrings coming again. It was just a reminder that I love the Nations, in-particular Africa. I have such a deep desire to see that Nation touched and functioning in wholeness. My heart was remembering all the beautiful times I've had with my brothers and sisters in Africa. All the times the children have grabbed my hand and lead me down dirt dusty roads to school while we sang in Swahili. It's such a deep desire to be there and to be with those people. To be with you in Kenya. To be with the Davis' on the Islands. At the same time I know I'm supposed to be here. While I was crying and thinking about being over in Africa, Nora was at my feet and playing near me in the pew. I know I want to be with her too. To see her grow up. To see her first day of Kindergarten. I want to be here loving on my students in my class. I want to speak value to them. I want them to know that they are uniquely made and have a special purpose in life. I want to continue to invest in Tacoma. Continue to speak to it that it is beautiful, diverse, and unique. And I know that these two yearnings don't need to be in conflict. I'm grateful that my job allows me to do both. To be here in Tacoma and then for a month or a little more, spend time in the dirt with my other family in Africa. I think maybe today at church and those unstoppable tears was just a reminder of this. That I am called to be in community with Africa. That I am called to be in community with Tacoma.
I was realizing during the sermon that I've invested so many hours and breaths and thoughts on Africa. I've read countless books about the Lost Boys of Sudan. I've watched films and uncomfortable documentaries about the blood diamonds, corrupt officials, and lived in the dirt with those children affected by HIV. When I hear such beautiful news about Southern Sudan stepping closer to liberation I shed tears of joy. What a long decade of suffering. I think about people like Ajak and Nibble who have been praying earnestly for stability and reunion with their families. I feel like I've chosen to share in their pain and now I'm sharing in their joy. Their hope that this will be an answered prayer documented in their prayer logs. It will have scribbled next to the cry, ANSWERED!
On a different note, back in my own little country of Sparkle Diamonds at Geiger Montessori. I feel encouraged. We've shifted into another gear. You know when you drive on the surface streets of neighborhoods the shifting is constantly back and forth. You build up speed in second gear only to approach a round-about and have to shift back into first. You build up to third in-between lights only to step on the breaks for the flashing lights announcing a pedestrian is crossing the road. This constant stop, go, stop, go. In the classroom this could look like a little set back such as Noah not getting enough sleep so he enters the classroom and crawls onto a low shelf, squeezing himself into the tiny space. It could look like Courtney telling me this morning her mother went to turn on the lights and they wouldn't come on. It could also mean that Jayden responds to my redirection with a smile and a air of lightness after we have fought tiny battles for the past two months. This year we've been riding on surface streets. That was until this past week. We've merged onto the freeway. We've shifted into fourth and sometimes we've even ventured into fifth gear. I'm joy riding. In the back, with my free hair blowing in the wind. I can let out yelps of celebration as we cruise straight through gentle bends or curves. I can sit back and enjoy the scenery as we pass other cars of lesser modern models. For us this looks like Noah building a towering prism with colored beads. He beams as the students whooo and awwww. He announces, "I've built the Empire State building!" And as he cleans it up, he cries the whole time. Saying, "I can make it again, can't I?" I celebrate, that he is following directions when I ask and that the structure of Montessori is one where he can build his Empire State building a million times to his hearts content. For us, fifth gear looks like Dylan begging for the next era book, a bigger piece of paper, and permission to cut and paste his own research on it. He wants to know more about the Paleozoic era. After he is finished and he proudly shows me his work, I ask him "What do you plan to do next?" He asks, "Could I share it with the class?" When I answer, "Of course, this would be a great idea." I know we have reached this cruising speed and that we are going to keep going. In our class it looks like these amazing Picasso inspired self portraits that we painted. Our eyes, noses and mouths are in odd positions and as Hayden would say, they are slanted on the face, not horizontal. I loved the honest conversations we had about art after they were disgusted by the butts and breasts of some of the paintings. So, we've shifted into higher gears this week and I'm in the back letting them drive, taking us to unknown destinations, driving us forward to lands undiscovered. There I am in the back, enjoying the ride.
