revolving door

The revolving door of ministry life has always been challenging for me. We constantly have people coming and going through our ministry. Missionary staff leave early sometimes; even if they stay full-term, it's just that: a term. National staff quit, move on, move away. Each year we have interns, and each year we have to say goodbye to our interns. I'm an introvert. And I take a long time to feel comfortable enough with someone to trust them with my heart. I also place high value on friendships and care deeply for people. The combination of all that makes the revolving door of my life that much harder.

I struggle to find the balance between guarding my heart and embracing the reality that we were hardwired for intimacy.

Yet 10 new interns just spun through that revolving door. And here I stand, needing to open my life, my heart, to them. (I sigh at that thought.) I look forward to knowing them all, and I long for the comfortability and familiarity I had with our previous group at the end of last year. It's just the process of getting to that point that is overwhelming to me.

My heart grows weary of the constant hellos and goodbyes.

Though it may take a while, and though it may even hurt, my heart will once again open. Slowly at first, and then like a flower bursting out of a bud, suddenly I'll find myself in a place I never thought I'd be.

four-minute friday: 10 years old

Go.

Now the challenge is to get this typed in and posted before the power goes out again. I think we've spent more time without power than with it today.

2008 is a pretty monumental year for us. Thrive Africa turned 10 years old! We've been working on a new page for the website that tells more about our journey. It was fun writing the copy for it, although it was challenging to not go on and on about things. (I've got a decade worth of stories to tell... It's hard to fit that onto one page!)

We even dug out some old pictures from our early years and scanned them in (yes, we used film back then!). There's a whole gallery of these classic photos on the ministry site. (Kitty, enjoy the trip down memory lane!)

You can read our story and see our pictures here.

(Yay! Power's still on...)

Done.

inside scoop

It seems like I've been working forever on our new ministry website. Thankfully, I haven't been working alone. Over a year ago, our stellar creative guy started working on the design, and simply never stopped. With the new site having way more depth (meaning way more pages) than our old one, there was a lot of new copy to be written. Thankfully, in June I got some help in that department. I suddenly had a department when I discovered that one of our interns (now a dear friend) is a phenomenal writer, and I recruited her to help me write for various projects, the largest being the website. She wrote the first-draft copy for the entire site.

Hundreds and hundreds of man hours later, we finally went live with the new site on New Year's Day. Dave and Becca, thanks for making us look so good.

I love our new look. The whole feel and vibe of the site definitely seems more... us. And one of the biggest changes is the interactive ministry blog, which I'll be writing for a few times a week. Please, please, please drop by to read and comment. (Yes, I've resorted to begging...)

We aren't announcing the new site until the end of the month. In the meantime, please check it out and let me know if you find anything that should be fixed... like typos, spelling errors, or the like. And definitely let me know what you think.

Don't you feel special for getting the inside scoop?

ange(red)

The week before Christmas, Joyce's 23-year-old brother died. He was the 5th family member she lost this year. My heart broke for her, with her, as we hugged and cried, mourning her loss and grieving for her pain. She has only one immediate family member left--her sister, whose only child died just weeks ago. Death is that real here, that ever-present. It hovers over villages like a cloud, camps out on doorsteps, knocks down doors with its persistent banging. It's unpacked its suitcase; it plans on staying a while, like an unwanted visit from a second cousin. It's the constant lump in everyone's throat; it's the hole in our pants pockets, making it impossible to hold on to anything. Or anyone. It's the uncatchable thief, stealing not only breath from lungs, but dreams from hearts. It's the elusive serial killer, taking not only lives, but futures. It's the brutal rapist, destroying not only innocence, but untapped potential.

Africa is dying inside. Slowly, yet quickly, in the paradoxical way that AIDS seems to take its time, prolonging misery, pain, and grief, while it rushes in with swift, sweeping force.

Don't look the other way.

Don't look the other way.

four-minute friday: ostriches

Go.

There are two ostriches outside my office. One keeps knocking on the door. (I'm serious!) The other is staring intently at me through the window next to my desk. Hello, lovely ladies.

She has intriguing eyes. Have you ever seen an ostrich blink? It's very...interesting. Mildly gross, even. But her eyes are larger than life, and her eyelashes are Maybelline perfect.

I wonder why they're staying here; they've been here for hours already. Occasionally, they walk back to the grass to eat a bit, and then they stroll back over. They clean their feathers, strut their stuff, and knock on the glass. I wonder what -- if anything -- is going through their walnut-sized brains. (Did you know their brains are smaller than their eyeballs? Now how's that for a Snapple fact!?)

If nothing else, it's making my day in the office more exciting than it normally would have been. I've got a song on repeat and am ready to crack down on a big project. Thanks for keeping me company, ladies.

Done.