“therefore, whatever you want men to do to you, do also to them, for this is the law and the prophets.” [matthew 7:12]
i stop to think: how would i hope to be treated by anyone, friend or stranger? politeness, benefit-of-the-doubt, understanding, kindness, fairness, patience, honesty…
[this is not to say i should expect this kind of treatment from people — wouldn’t that be some kind of rude awakening! idealism shattered…]
no one is a mind-reader — i cannot know how you want to be treated [unless you tell me] — so i must reflect my own preferences, defaulting to the rule of gold.
what Jesus did NOT say: “if people are nice to you, you should be nice back.” this is a commandment, people, and it’s not conditional in any way. granted, my above list seems idealistic. it’s also impossibly naïve to expect to be treated this way because [1] we live in a broken, fallen, harsh world — not everyone follows this rule and [2] my wishing and hoping are not going to affect others’ behavior.
Jesus also did NOT say: “if you’re nice to people, they should be nice back.” the purpose of this commandment is not an attempt at manipulation. the point is to treat others how i would like to be treated REGARDLESS of their reciprocation. and to keep doing it, even when it sucks.
how would i hope to be treated by anyone, friend or stranger? i’ve chucked my above list, favoring the following:
“love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, endures all things.” [1 corinthians 13: 4-7]
as a follower of Christ, i’ve committed to loving others, even when they don’t love me back. cuz that’s what Jesus did.
i climb the twining stairs to the roof of my parents’ house and find a spot, my back on the dusty stone, my gaze heavenward. i’m here to soak, to be still, to marvel. i breathe in the ancient stars [as brilliant as they can be in light-polluted dakar.]
the roof-bricks have absorbed the noon-time sun and send it back through me now as i feel the weight of my body resting there. a breeze refreshes my face and i notice it’s much cooler up here.
i soon switch off the ipod; an insistent cricket, the ocean-wave hum of traffic, a baying dog, the distant tinny tinkle of music, horns, and voices…these are a better soundtrack.
two birds float overhead, stark white bellies stained rosy from the glowing city below. i watch them a long time, angling my head till the world tips — dark canopy becomes the deep, glass floor, and city-lights are now a starry sky. venus at my feet, moon sneaking behind that scrubby tree.
a shooting star slashes through the inky blue, bright like a firework, the closest i’ve ever seen. its shimmery tail sputters out like a flare. i wonder how many shooting stars i’ve missed, sitting inside, downstairs on the couch, engrossed in the tv. common entertainment seems chintzy, shabby beside this star-spangled show.
an airplane blinks slowly along, far overhead. it doesn’t seem to descend over dakar, it’s headed someplace else, farther north. i imagine the rows of people crowded in the metal tube a mile up, each wrapped up so completely in his own universe. each hurt and joy, secret and love so specific and all-encompassing. a world contained in every soul. and our Father knows each of us — on this orb, jam-packed with our billions — so intimately.
i’m brought back to my small-ness, His greatness.
my limits, his infinity.
my helplessness, his holiness.
and this is why i like looking at the stars and the big old sky.
i prefer to do goodbyes how i do band-aids: put it off, and at the last possible minute, just get it over with — agonizing, but quick.
back in october i put leanne on a plane, then the straws left the next day for their month in the u.s. i had a good, long cry, and fully expected i would feel better after that. but i didn’t — i couldn’t seem to shake the sad feelings. i started to wonder if i was depressed. it bothered me i couldn’t just snap out of it. eventually, though, those empty, lonely feelings faded, the straws did come back, and i was ok. [lucky for me.]
when it was my turn, the goodbye was done in band-aid fashion, since check-in took so stinking long. it didn’t leave much time for praying, hugs, waves goodbye. [lucky for me.]
i walked through security, waved to my friends on the other side of the glass… and i turned the corner, that corner i’ve seen so many pass before. [there’s so much finality in that corner turn.] eyes swollen with salty tears, i quickly found the restroom and locked myself in. a few muted, gulping sobs in the privacy of a stall and then i blew my nose, wiped my eyes, breathed deeply, trying to wick away the tears.
i felt this goodbye like a splinter driven deep into my heart…and already i could feel my self-preservation kicking in — the protective tumor smothering the splinter to prevent more pain. focus attentions on future, distractions; think of the landing ahead, hugs from momma and dada and bubba. think about anything — except those people i love now driving away from the airport.
down the stairs i crossed the tarmac to the plane … fighting instinct to “just shake it off”. instead i gulped down big breaths of the heavy, warm sea air. i wanted my fill of gabon, my lungs bursting to hold it in. i chose to savor those last moments, even though i didn’t want to feel the hurt. but the hurt is good, remember? i hurt because i love.
it hit me later, once i had some time to process. the difference between “leaving goodbyes” and “staying goodbyes”. both suck; but the staying is harder.
yesterday i had to say goodbye to hope house. i’ll admit it was rather anti-climactic — most kids hardly seemed to notice that i was leaving for the last time. even though my ego craves stroking, i think it’s better that it wasn’t dramatic and wrenching (though i had a hard time holding it together on the drive home…)
some of my favorite hope house memories:
kennamoussoundamboumbachris, emi and the possegracemboumbamoussoundalolololo, josue, moussoundajeremiejanicenaomijosuesimpson ulevida boys
Jesus, i place these children in Your hands — they are so precious to You. please meet all their needs — physical, spiritual, educational. i want so many wonderful things for them — You must as well. You know and love them better than i do. enable pastor israel and mama nathalie to care for them, and bring other people along to help them carry the burden. amen.
this past month since envision closed, i hung around to be guesthouse hostess for the straw family while they were on “vacation” in the states. i say “vacation” because when you’re a missionary, 2 weeks at home means anything but r&r. i, however…
life is rough.
they got back on october 23 and since then we’ve had a jolly old time watching downton abbey, cooking, remodeling the guesthouse bathroom, teaching english and dreading goodbyes. alace is a verbal processor, and i’m happy to listen, happier still because it was crickets around here for almost a month. i’m an internal processor, so that alone time was good — i filled an entire journal in about 3 weeks.
in my defense… i didn’t have a whole lot going on.
alace and i both have a lot to think about — me, wrapping up my time, trying to be ok with not having future plans. her, looking forward to next year in cameroon but dreading the in-between months — no more teammates in libreville. this past month i got a good idea how that will feel.
you can probably imagine the prayers i’ve been praying lately — God, please show me your will, give me wisdom, where to go, what to do…
He continues to bring to my attention psalm 37:4.
delight yourself also in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart.
i remember a time my junior or senior year of college when a friend spoke that scripture over me, saying it was from the Lord. i don’t doubt it.
i recently unearthed a little card that was given to me a very long time ago by uncle tim and aunt janice (not related to me, but on the mission field this is what kids call the grown-ups). it has my name on it, underneath it says “graceful” which is what hannah means. under that is a scripture. can you guess which?
i journalled on 10-24, after reading psalm 37:4…
“we are not called to “spend time” on God but to delight ourselves in God. i’m supposed to delight myself in God.”
we are meant for delight — not meant to check “Jesus time” off the list. so….what does it even mean to delight myself in God? what is delight? enjoyment, happiness, pleasure, fulfillment, giddiness — these are words that come to mind. do these words describe my relationship with God?
sometimes. but not usually.
so what’s missing?
it took me a while to get it, but i know now what’s been missing: me. i’ve been holding back from Him, big time. on the 27th:
“i haven’t laid it all down — not really…when i said i’ll pray about it, what i meant was, i’ll toss up some pretty words but in the end i will do what i want for my plans, my hopes, my dreams to become reality. all the while my relationship with Christ is suffering, my sensitivity to the Spirit, compromised. Father, forgive me — i’ve been stubborn and willful, ignored Your voice altogether because i’m afraid that what You might ask me to do means that i again sacrifice my desires to You. but Lord, do i have faith enough to be confident that You are infinitely good, and dying to myself means living to You? do i know it deep down? do i trust that even when You ask me to give up my dreams, that You will make them brighter and more beautiful than they were before? Lord God, i see that i’ve been very fearful of listening to You…afraid of hearing what You’ll say — that You’ll call me to something difficult; or that i won’t hear You at all. but i know that i won’t hear anything if i don’t love and trust and wait.”
these themes come back again and again: delight in God, wait on God, hope in God.
…
turn your eyes upon Jesus look full in His wonderful face and the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.
i know when i do look at Him, full in the face, that delight is my only response.
after college graduation, i was privileged to lead a group of 6 crownie girls on a 2 week trip here to gabon. we shared blogging responsibilities, taking turns sharing our thoughts and experiences with friends and family. read below an entry from me on may 21st, 2010.
Bonjour! Cava?? I am SO good – being back in Gabon after nine-ish months is amazing and I feel like I never left. One very big highlight: Our friend Jean-Roman told me that the Holy Spirit told him I’m going to be here for two years. I don’t know when this is going to happen, but by God’s grace I pray it will and hope hope hope that this is true. Totally made my day. Love you guys and miss you (especially you, family). Love and hugs, Hannah Grayce *
i arrived in gabon on january 10th, 2011. i fly back to america on january 10th, 2013. freaky coincidence, you might say? yeah, maybe. but probably not.
four points i’d like to make:
1. God speaks through people.
2. God is faithful to His promises.
3. write things down, people! if this hadn’t been recorded in cyber space, who knows if i ever would have remembered this moment in time?!?! my memory isn’t great, so chances are, it would have been lost forever.
4. in french, the word for “grateful” is translated reconnaissant. if you break the word down it basically means re-knowing — to know again. what a blessing it is to go back and look at what God said, and how He was faithful to it. when we give ourselves the opportunity (by writing them down!) to recall all these things, how can we help but to be grateful and to give Him all the glory?
*[ a thousand thanks to my good friends amy grace and kelly lynn for finding this old blurb! ]
if you’ve visited my blog before, you might notice that there’s been some major adjustments … not only a new theme, but even a new name!
don’t get me wrong, i still heart gabon. o do i. but i figure that since i wanna keep this blogging thing going, it might be smart to simply change its name rather than confuse people. i want to keep my old stuff, after all, and i’m not going to be living in gabon (as far as i know…).
new title is : wanderlove. (“wanderlust” just seemed too…. lusty.) i hope that as i continue to wander this planet, that those i meet would feel His love through me.
and besides, it’s been almost 2 years since i’ve made any changes to the format, so i figured that it was time. high time.
life changes are coming; they’re already here. my days lately seem like summer vacation — except that my parents aren’t here to tell me to turn off the tv and go play outside. (o the joys of adulthood — except that i wish they were here to tell me that.)
i picked up my passport today from the american embassy, and it’s gained some weight. i had to add pages because it was full. feels good saying that.
next step is to request from the gabon government if i may please leave the country. they’ll take away my residency card, and then on november 7th i will fly away to another african country where momma and dada and bubba will be waiting for me. it will be cooler, and dryer, and probably will feel like more summer vacation. except my parents will be there to tell me stop watching tv… or rather, they will encourage the watching, because we’ll be doing it together.
christmas will come (i’m so very aware of it — having already begun crafting this year’s christmas playlists) and it will be fabulous because my emmy lou is coming from america. and because my mother is the christmas queen. literally. (ok, not literally, but is that even a real thing?)
and then i will fly back to meeenahhsohhhtah. soooooo excited to hug those people there. and happy to be residing in america, rather than visiting america. (we’ll see how long that lasts: see blog title.)
please pray for me: when i am time-wealthy i tend to squander it.
monday (last day of vaycay) chucks are ready for one more shot at the beach at sogara. rod tells us that the restaurant is closed on mondays, but we decide to go anyways, since it’s our last shot. taxiing out there is easy and we are greeted with a deserted waterfront. bean and leanne amble out to the water with the snorkel gear and start exploring while alace and i relax in the sun with shades and good books.
‘nuf said.
we notice that bean and leanne seem excited about something and when leanne rushes into shore we are a little concerned. turns out they saw a jellyfish and they wanted to give us the same opportunity! i am somewhat less than enthusiastic about the dangerous creatures in the water – ignorance is bliss. but i go out anyways, bean and i sticking close together especially when the sand plunges into dark crevasses.
scaredy snorkelers.
snorkeling is fun (and the word snorkel is pretty fantastic) – but i honestly prefer the shore, so i only stay out for a few minutes with the goggles. for a couple hours i sit with my book, soaking in the view, but before we go home i decided to cool off once more in the crystal blue waters. alace and i wade out and relax in the shallows. floating there, i suddenly feel a slight brush on my left arm — i look over to see: jellyfish! i guess it was the head that touched my skin, so there was no sting but it’s a close enough encounter to scare me to land. as we wade we see jellies everywhere, and i feel an eerie ‘the birds’-type dread.
soon it’s time to leave – we say our last goodbyes to sogara beach and taxi home to clean up before our long long boat trip back to l-ville. we pack up and rod brings us to the port to get checked in. bean and i hop over to the cekado to grocery shop for the 2 meals we’ll eat on board.
our adventure continues as we load up: the “immigration” official checking papers doesn’t like the looks of bean’s passport copy. he wants the original, which is not possible — it’s in the immigration office in libreville. however, alace drops the bongolo hospital name and all is well and good. they let her go and we climb the stairs to find some place to spend the next 12 hours.
happy to not be on the puke boat.
we claim a bench on the top floor of the ship, close to the front. the sun is setting and the boat crowds full and fuller. a large number of the passengers are gabonais military in their camo gear, making quite a ruckus. at first their antics are controlled but as we pull out into the sea, the wine and coffee (dangerous combination) start flowing and, yes, there is a dance circle. bean and i are trying to sleep on the floor under our bench, and about 8 feet away are a dozen young soldiers singing, nay, shouting at the top of their lungs. the words of their songs are hard to decipher, but apparently they are not child-appropriate, because de temps en temps a mama nearby admonishes their lyrics…
finally around 2 a.m. they quiet down. i stare, transfixed, at the sky. it’s so rare to see stars like that…the black velvet canopy is busy with stars — it seems there isn’t enough room for them all. they make the night bright and calm and warm above the churning, salty boat.
sleep is hard to come by, considering the crowd-noise and the hard-floor bed we fashioned. i drift in and out, shifting sides often to recirculate blood to the parts that have been constricted. i feel old, especially when the army plays reveille at 6 a.m. and the dance party ensues once again. i just want to shake my fist and tell those dern kids to get off my lawn.
about 8 we dock in libreville — and the “immigration” officials once again harass bean for her passport copy. we wait. they let us go. again, the throat-burning exhaust of this grimy city shakes the fairy-dust of port gentil off our sandals and the chucks part ways. alace heads home to sleep the day away and we taxi back to owendo — the beginning of the end.
[sorry for the depressing ending — it’s a coldplay day.]
we have a slow morning, running errands and packing the cooler with snacks and drinks… but finally we are ready and arrive at the boat. apparently, getting the boat in the water is normally quite an undertaking, the trailer getting stuck in the sand repeatedly and the loading crew shouting arguments. however, just for us, the whole things gets off as smooth us butter. rod is surprised, but we chucks are not.
climbing aboard i am once again struck by the overwhelming blessing rod and mary have been, and what a treat God gave us in them. not only are they great friends and wonderful people, they are so generous with all God’s blessed them with.
we zip off towards the cape in search of whales and once we pass the peninsula, the waves get much choppier. our eyes are peeled for the steaming plume that precedes the breaching head or rolling back of the humpback whales. for a while we strain among the swells to see anything, and i feel doubt start to creep up my spine – the leftover bitterness of last year’s fruitless whale expedition. it seems the whales hide when they see us coming…
the needlepoint of peninsula.
then suddenly, far off, we see a blow-hole burst of cloud, enormous black body emerging from the deep grey water. my doubts are shattered in an instant. in the next hour we see 6 or 7 break to the surface. our closest encounter is 2 rising together, spouting in tandem, slicing back under.
we chucks squeal like children at every sighting, real or imagined. even though we never get very close, it is completely satisfying to see with my own eyes that whales don’t hide just to spite me.
giddy whale watchers.
by now we’re pretty hungry (hunting whales works up an appetite) and tired of the raucous sea – we turn nose toward land to find a calmer spot for lunching. we drop anchor beside a screen saver – one of the most gorgeous places i have ever ever been. stark white sand, pristine jungle background, and the water shifts its hues of blue so that i can’t decide which is more beautiful. all the while you can see clear to the bottom – even at a depth of 15 feet.
real-life screensaver.
lunching on salad and hummus and fresh sliced peppers makes everything seem even more perfect. we even have chilled plums, which i decide is my favorite fruit.
we want to try to fit in water skiing, snorkeling AND swimming, so rod takes us up a river to find calmer waters. leanne is the only one who is really excited for skiing so she goes first and she gets up on her first try. yay leanne! after holding on for a good long time, and even crossing the wake, she lets go and decides she’s done. ‘just wanted to keep in practice.’
so… i am next. they practically have to twist my arm to get me into the water – i remember well my first experience water skiing many years ago: the face-slapping, muscle straining, teary ordeal that it was. i don’t want a repeat of that – not on my vacation! but i give in, clumsily shodding my feet in the skis and clinging for dear life to the tow-rope handle.
everyone, including me, is shocked when i get up on the first try and have a run of what seems like hours, but in reality was probably less than 30 seconds. my second and third tries, however, are not so successful, but i am able to quit knowing i successfully got back in the saddle.
bean is next, and this is her first ever attempt at waterskiing and in her attempts to get up she comes so close! if she hadn’t got a face full of brackish water i know she would not have quit until she succeeded.
when it comes alace’s turn she (under immense peer pressure) readies herself for the experience. she’s waiting in the water when the engine decides it’s had enough for today and won’t start anymore. we wait a few minutes to try again and still nothing. meanwhile the boat drifts closer to the mangroves and alace farther from the boat. it soon becomes clear that even if we do get the engine started, the best course of action is heading home, so leanne dons flippers and goes to alace’s rescue. rod lowers the anchor and calls the mechanic (oh, technology) who is apparently so skilled that he is able to repair the engine remotely by sheer willpower, because several minutes later it starts without a hiccup and purrs like a kitten.
rescue party — more party than rescue.
so in the end alace avoids waterskiing; we load up and steer back to shore. all four chucks huddle together in the bow bench seat and allow the waves and wind to wet and dry us, respectively.
later, over whole grilled fishes at copa cabana, conversation is deep and thought-provoking, making the meal even more delicious. back at home i lazily peruse a nat.geo. and appreciate the small things in life.
traveling chucks day 5 (a.k.a. and the chucks rested)
morning dawns on a lovely sunday and the chucks get ready for church with rod. this consists of assembling on the veranda, listening to a podcast from rod’s home church in d.c., and praying for one another. it is a lovely service, and afterwards, since its cool and cloudy again, we chucks decide to be lazy – watching 3 movies throughout the rest of the day. after all the excitement from the day before, it’s nice to loaf.
wanderlove 