“Happy is the man who finds wisdom and the man who gains understanding”
Proverbs 3: 13
Two young ladies sat relaxing in the cobbled square of Old Jaffa (Israel) Having just completed the coastal walk from the centre of Tel Aviv to the historic city gates the girls enjoyed their ice coffees and remarked on their beautiful surroundings.
Lorna: The architecture here reminds me of Italy or Rome?
Erica: But you’ve never been to Italy Lorna.
Lorna: No I’ve never been to Rome either.
Later that evening, having returned from their days adventure (and hike) they dined by the sea. Looking up, expecting to see some familiar constellations Erica remarked on how dark the sky looked. It was lit up only by one beaming light. Lorna: What’s that over there?
Erica: It’s a star. It’s the Star of David; you know like the one on their flag ‘n' it’s hovering over Bethlehem.
Lorna: Are you sure that’s the star?
Erica: Yeah sure. It’s the brightest star; that’s how the wise men knew how to follow it. Suddenly the diamond in the sky turned red and started to move.
Lorna: Look Bethlehem’s moving!
Accents can often complicate things and so many times we misunderstand or misinterpret what people say. Whilst being driven to the next school, where they were going to teach, the girls absorbed some of their cultural surroundings. Being of an inquisitive nature Lorna enquired about the huge animals that were now parallel to the car, dwarfing it’s exterior.
Lorna: Oh my goodness what are they? I’ve never seen animals with horns as big as that before” Lorna screeched, pointing excitedly to the beasts.
“Dat is a Pull a Cart,” The girls were told.
“Ah a pulacart” Lorna repeated what the Indian gentleman had said, or at least what she thought he had said. “A Pulacart! I’ve never heard of that animal before.”
"It’s a bull," said Erica
“Yes dit is a bull. It is pulling dee cart.”
The girls giggles realising that the “pulacart” he was referring to was the vehicle not the animal.
“Entertain dem!” Was the instruction we were given by the pastor and so the Soul Touchers humbly obliged. So having finished their hundredth rendition of “Making a Melody” Erica and Lorna conferred about what game to play next.
“What game will we do next?" Lorna muttered through grinning teeth, still humming the melody song and straining to dance, despite every limb aching from a day of singing and dancing with enthusiastic Indian children.
"I think my trousers have ripped!" Erica paniced.
"What game?" Lorna repeated, thinking she had never heard of that particular one.
"My trousers! I think there’s a wee tear in the crotch but its ok finish the song I don’t think you can see it," Erica replied turning discreetly for Lorna to check the damaged garment.
"Eh, Erica I can see your bum." Lorna nervously hovered behind, trying to protect her friend’s modesty.
"Where?" Erica asked inspecting her trousers. But Lorna’s hand pointed to a completely different area: the backside, the seem of which was disintegrating as Erica moved. Gesturing to one of the many Indian women in the church Erica asked for a needle ‘n’ thread. The woman immediately removed the trousers and proceeded to wrap the, now hysterical, Erica in a sari! Lorna got one too but she didn’t have to burst her pants to get one!
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
It rained and poured for 40 days. India
“The animals went in two by two. Harrah, hurrah!” Sound familiar? Yes to Lorna and I, and anybody else who attended church holiday clubs or SU camps from a young age, this song will probably bring back fond memories of your childhood. For us however it is a reminder of our lives over the past few days. As I’ve described in the previous entry, for most of our day on Thursday we were standing in front of hundreds of children imitating elephants, birds, crocodiles and all sorts of other weird and wonderful creatures. We were telling the children of Kennedy school about Noah and how he had to take the animals into the ark. Little did we know that the poor children may be traumatised because literally days later we are enjoying our very own flood. Today is Sunday and all festivities have been momentarily put on hold because of the monsoon that is currently flooding Chennai. So we are imprisoned in our wee hotel until it stops, although judging from the weather forecast it doesn’t look set to stop until the 14th of Dec when indeed the monsoon period ends! So I thought I’d take this opportunity to say hi and let you know what we’ve been up to the past few days.
Before the rain interfered with our schedule (yes we have a timetable and we have to stick to it. Can you believe it! Those of you who know Captain Thacker will be able to imagine what our timetable may be like) Lorna and I had the opportunity to visit some of the homes in a slum area here in Chennai. We are being very well looked after by two churches: Christ the Rock and Mount Zion. Both churches do a lot of ministry in the slums and most members of their small congregations come from there.
So after a hectic day with the children in the schools we were told that we were going to visit these homes. Although a little nervous, having been to these areas in daylight and slightly tired we were excited to visit the homes of the women we had had been sharing and praying with; the women who had been looking after us so well. They too were equally as excited about showing us where they live and us meeting their families.
So we left the church (Mount Zion) and set out. Weaving in and out of the dusty stalls and homes we saw rats, children, men and women sitting. Yes just sitting. Some of them in silence, some talking to the children flung on the road in front of them, playing with old pots and pans or twigs. Some of the women lit fires, presumably to cook and men huddled in shop doorways chatting and smoking. All eyes were on us. Two large white girls. I say large, no not because we’re bigger than you but because we are definitely bigger than the average Indian. The women are very petite and dressed in the most beautiful saris. They actually add colour and a little life to the darkness that dampens the streets. As we pass, the hustle and bustle of the stalls stops. People stare. Some rush towards us gesturing to their mouths hoping that we can feed them. They groan in a language we don’t understand (Tamil) but their actions are crystal clear and we are left in no doubt of what they mean. They are hungry and we are obviously well fed. They need something to eat now. Discreetly both Lorna and I try to give the little money we have on us but our chaperones discourage us and whisk us into one of the little stone houses. The houses are like flats: stacked up high and between them ropes, laden with clothes being hung out to dry, are strung. I was actually concentrating so much on where I was putting my feet that I hadn’t looked up until pastor Sebastian joked that they had put the flags out for us coming!
Inside the homes we are met by large families. All desperate to meet us and most importantly pray with us. It was such an enriching experience to talk to these people. To hear of how God is at work in their lives. Yes I’m talking about now as you read this he is changing their homes and communities. To them God is real. He is someone they talk to, not just on a daily basis but all day everyday. They rely on him for things. We have learned that when they pray to him, like we discovered in Africa, they actually pray with confidence. They pray expecting things to happen. One family told us of how the mother had been in bondage for seven years; she had been "possessed by evil spirits". By this I presume she was in some sort of depression. At home she may have been prescribed a drug or worse still told to get on with things but here they prayed to God and he provided, as he always does. During that time her family home was a horrible place to be. The children told us about how it was always dark and no one was every happy. They said that now God is in their home they are happy and have joy. Who wouldn’t want that for their family!
Another home we visited consisted of only one room. This was home for the family of six. In it they all live by day and sleep by night, yes in that one room. They huddled between four cold stone walls on a stone floor. In one corner was a small water bucket and another empty one. Another part of the small room was partitioned as a kitchen from where they produced some fizzy juice for us. Time and time again we are overwhelmed by little they have and how willing they are to give. In the first home I mentioned they actually gave us money as a blessing for our ministry. It was probably their monthly salary. Yes we did take it! I know it sounds awful but they found it terribly offensive when we refused. And yes we will make a donation to their church so they get it back!
Finally we visited Solomon’s home. Solomon is a young man (25) who is hugely excited about God. He lives there with his mother (a stunningly beautiful woman) and his brother Moses. Solomon told us about how they, along with another younger brother whom we didn’t meet, used to live in “platforms”. When talking about that time in his life he was visibly distressed and so naturally we asked what “platforms” were. “They are the gutters or I think you call them pavements,” he answered.
“Yes I think we do.” I replied embarrassed. And so he went on to tell us of how God had provided them with a home and how he and his brothers are now all in fulltime employment. He then proceeded to show us round his home. It had a small kitchen, a prayer room (cupboard) and one bedroom. Awkwardly edging my way round the one double bed squeezed into the room, I asked, “Who sleeps here?”
“We all do. It’s a big bed isn’t it?” He replied looking at me as if I had asked a stupid question, which of course I had!
These are just some of the homes we have visited in the few days we have been here. Over the next few weeks we will no doubt visit many more. And so please continue to pray, not for us or even our safety here but pray for these people. Pray that our visits would be fruitful and that what we see would lead us (as in you and me) into action; into doing something for justice because this is simply unjust! To have two grown men sharing a bed with their mother is unjust. To be given money from a family who have barely enough to feed themselves is unjust and to see all of this and do nothing unthinkable. I say this every time. You can do something. Even if you can’t come to India you can do something. Everything starts with prayer. Whether it is prayer for wisdom, prayer for energy, prayer for motivation, prayer for finances. You can’t do anything but God can do everything through you!
Before the rain interfered with our schedule (yes we have a timetable and we have to stick to it. Can you believe it! Those of you who know Captain Thacker will be able to imagine what our timetable may be like) Lorna and I had the opportunity to visit some of the homes in a slum area here in Chennai. We are being very well looked after by two churches: Christ the Rock and Mount Zion. Both churches do a lot of ministry in the slums and most members of their small congregations come from there.
So after a hectic day with the children in the schools we were told that we were going to visit these homes. Although a little nervous, having been to these areas in daylight and slightly tired we were excited to visit the homes of the women we had had been sharing and praying with; the women who had been looking after us so well. They too were equally as excited about showing us where they live and us meeting their families.
So we left the church (Mount Zion) and set out. Weaving in and out of the dusty stalls and homes we saw rats, children, men and women sitting. Yes just sitting. Some of them in silence, some talking to the children flung on the road in front of them, playing with old pots and pans or twigs. Some of the women lit fires, presumably to cook and men huddled in shop doorways chatting and smoking. All eyes were on us. Two large white girls. I say large, no not because we’re bigger than you but because we are definitely bigger than the average Indian. The women are very petite and dressed in the most beautiful saris. They actually add colour and a little life to the darkness that dampens the streets. As we pass, the hustle and bustle of the stalls stops. People stare. Some rush towards us gesturing to their mouths hoping that we can feed them. They groan in a language we don’t understand (Tamil) but their actions are crystal clear and we are left in no doubt of what they mean. They are hungry and we are obviously well fed. They need something to eat now. Discreetly both Lorna and I try to give the little money we have on us but our chaperones discourage us and whisk us into one of the little stone houses. The houses are like flats: stacked up high and between them ropes, laden with clothes being hung out to dry, are strung. I was actually concentrating so much on where I was putting my feet that I hadn’t looked up until pastor Sebastian joked that they had put the flags out for us coming!
Inside the homes we are met by large families. All desperate to meet us and most importantly pray with us. It was such an enriching experience to talk to these people. To hear of how God is at work in their lives. Yes I’m talking about now as you read this he is changing their homes and communities. To them God is real. He is someone they talk to, not just on a daily basis but all day everyday. They rely on him for things. We have learned that when they pray to him, like we discovered in Africa, they actually pray with confidence. They pray expecting things to happen. One family told us of how the mother had been in bondage for seven years; she had been "possessed by evil spirits". By this I presume she was in some sort of depression. At home she may have been prescribed a drug or worse still told to get on with things but here they prayed to God and he provided, as he always does. During that time her family home was a horrible place to be. The children told us about how it was always dark and no one was every happy. They said that now God is in their home they are happy and have joy. Who wouldn’t want that for their family!
Another home we visited consisted of only one room. This was home for the family of six. In it they all live by day and sleep by night, yes in that one room. They huddled between four cold stone walls on a stone floor. In one corner was a small water bucket and another empty one. Another part of the small room was partitioned as a kitchen from where they produced some fizzy juice for us. Time and time again we are overwhelmed by little they have and how willing they are to give. In the first home I mentioned they actually gave us money as a blessing for our ministry. It was probably their monthly salary. Yes we did take it! I know it sounds awful but they found it terribly offensive when we refused. And yes we will make a donation to their church so they get it back!
Finally we visited Solomon’s home. Solomon is a young man (25) who is hugely excited about God. He lives there with his mother (a stunningly beautiful woman) and his brother Moses. Solomon told us about how they, along with another younger brother whom we didn’t meet, used to live in “platforms”. When talking about that time in his life he was visibly distressed and so naturally we asked what “platforms” were. “They are the gutters or I think you call them pavements,” he answered.
“Yes I think we do.” I replied embarrassed. And so he went on to tell us of how God had provided them with a home and how he and his brothers are now all in fulltime employment. He then proceeded to show us round his home. It had a small kitchen, a prayer room (cupboard) and one bedroom. Awkwardly edging my way round the one double bed squeezed into the room, I asked, “Who sleeps here?”
“We all do. It’s a big bed isn’t it?” He replied looking at me as if I had asked a stupid question, which of course I had!
These are just some of the homes we have visited in the few days we have been here. Over the next few weeks we will no doubt visit many more. And so please continue to pray, not for us or even our safety here but pray for these people. Pray that our visits would be fruitful and that what we see would lead us (as in you and me) into action; into doing something for justice because this is simply unjust! To have two grown men sharing a bed with their mother is unjust. To be given money from a family who have barely enough to feed themselves is unjust and to see all of this and do nothing unthinkable. I say this every time. You can do something. Even if you can’t come to India you can do something. Everything starts with prayer. Whether it is prayer for wisdom, prayer for energy, prayer for motivation, prayer for finances. You can’t do anything but God can do everything through you!
Sunday, October 28, 2007
School Visit India
“These are our very special guests. Welcome them with thunderous applause.” Was the instruction they were given and so the some six hundred students assembled in front of us complied with their headmaster. Some screamed, others cheered, their applause filling the courtyard where we had gathered. Next we were thoroughly entertained. The sound of traditional Indian music was played through loud speakers that, we were told, were purchased especially for our visit. For the next ten or so minutes we were enthralled by the intricacy of the carefully choreographed steps performed by the young girls on the stage. None of them seemed to be as daunted by their audience as we were. The foot of the stage marked the boundary for dozens of regimented rows of smartly dressed pupils. Each boy sat straight with his legs crossed, looking handsome in bright blue trousers and matching gingham shirts; each with their hair swept smartly into a side parting. The girl’s attire was equally as efficient. Dressed in pretty pinafores of the same bright blue they giggled and nodded nervously, clamouring over the boys at the end of assembly to shake our hands.
Although their school uniforms are a stark change from the saris they wear outside of the school gates the Indian influence is still president: long black pigtails are tied up with ribbon framing their smiling faces; as they dance they carefully clasp their first and second finger on the thumbs, twisting their wrists in time with the veena, the traditional Indian instrument accompanying them. Such delicate gestures draw attention to the henna art on their palms; almost every child is dotted with the signature of this area: the Hindu dot (pottu) painted between their eyebrows. Yet at the end of this beautiful welcoming ceremony the children all rise from their squatted positions and in chorus they recite the Lord’s Prayer.
This is Kennedy’s school where we have been teaching for the past two days. It is a Christian school and although many of the students come from Hindu families the Head teacher, Francis, informed us that parents prefer to send their children here because they install discipline and hope into their young students.
The discipline, or rather lack of indiscipline, is immediately obvious and the children appear for our classes eager to learn and they all participate enthusiastically. My initial reaction to this “royal” welcome was one of panic. It is totally overwhelming and extremely humbling being presented with gifts from a school where the children attend classes with little more than a notebook and the teachers teach with only a single piece of chalk. No interactive whiteboards assist them in their quests to educate this future generation. Similarly the children suffer from the lack of technology. Although they belong to the 21st century generation they are do not know what it is to benefit from 21st century technology. I am not implying that ones education is determined by what technology is available to them, not at all, but I am simply using it as one very obvious examples of difference between facilities we (in the west) have and the schools here don’t. Or let me use another. I was told, and actually experienced during my short period of teaching in Scotland, how children are affected by the weather. It’s true they, like us, become easily distracted by the elements. If it’s raining outside they become a little more excitable (completely mental and hyperactive) and if it’s sunny (on the rare occasion it is in Scotland) they complain of the heat. Well here the elements really do predict the atmosphere in the classrooms. Some of them have no walls or they have holes in the tin roofs, so when it rains they get wet. Some are however fortunate enough to have fans cooling the students from the unbearable humidity here, or at least the one student sitting directly underneath it; there is no air conditioning. Or we could even use the example of shoes. Kennedy school and St Mary’s, which we have also enjoyed visiting, is one of the more affluent schools yet many students do not have shoes and during monsoon season (Sept-Dec) this can cause fevers and illness, which we have witnessed. Today we saw many children actually wade through deep puddles, making their way to school. Now that’s ‘willingness to succeed’ don’t you think!
Visiting these schools has been a real education to me but I trust they also learned something from our visit. I mentioned earlier that initially we were overwhelmed by their hospitality and generosity of our hosts. It made me question the justice and purpose of our visit. “What can we give them? How can we repay them for their kindness towards us?” The answer was obvious and so over the next two days we put our everything into giving them the best gift we have: the gospel.
We spent our mornings dressings up, using props made out of bits and bobs gathered from different hostel rooms and our larger than large rucksacks; it’s amazing what you can make with some tinfoil and a few wire coat hangers. The children loved Lorna’s impression of a 600-year-old Noah and they didn’t even flinch when we splashed (soaked) them with water during the forty days of rain! Our afternoon was blessed by a session of questioning and discussion with the senior students from St Mary’s school. They were keen to learn of our culture and what the real ingredients of haggis were. Many asked questions about our faith, our families and why we had chosen the name ‘Soul Touch’. We answered them all as best we could but I hope the answer to the latter is obvious. That is our greatest desire: that these children would see beyond our white skin and big smiles and they learn something of God’s love for them.
Our time at Kennedy school was a complete joy as well as being completely exhausting and we loved every second of it. We know that some of you peeps in St Andrew’s also fell in love with the pupils and staff there and so we pray that this is the start of a connection and a friendship that will continue and will bless all the children in both India and Scotland.
Although their school uniforms are a stark change from the saris they wear outside of the school gates the Indian influence is still president: long black pigtails are tied up with ribbon framing their smiling faces; as they dance they carefully clasp their first and second finger on the thumbs, twisting their wrists in time with the veena, the traditional Indian instrument accompanying them. Such delicate gestures draw attention to the henna art on their palms; almost every child is dotted with the signature of this area: the Hindu dot (pottu) painted between their eyebrows. Yet at the end of this beautiful welcoming ceremony the children all rise from their squatted positions and in chorus they recite the Lord’s Prayer.
This is Kennedy’s school where we have been teaching for the past two days. It is a Christian school and although many of the students come from Hindu families the Head teacher, Francis, informed us that parents prefer to send their children here because they install discipline and hope into their young students.
The discipline, or rather lack of indiscipline, is immediately obvious and the children appear for our classes eager to learn and they all participate enthusiastically. My initial reaction to this “royal” welcome was one of panic. It is totally overwhelming and extremely humbling being presented with gifts from a school where the children attend classes with little more than a notebook and the teachers teach with only a single piece of chalk. No interactive whiteboards assist them in their quests to educate this future generation. Similarly the children suffer from the lack of technology. Although they belong to the 21st century generation they are do not know what it is to benefit from 21st century technology. I am not implying that ones education is determined by what technology is available to them, not at all, but I am simply using it as one very obvious examples of difference between facilities we (in the west) have and the schools here don’t. Or let me use another. I was told, and actually experienced during my short period of teaching in Scotland, how children are affected by the weather. It’s true they, like us, become easily distracted by the elements. If it’s raining outside they become a little more excitable (completely mental and hyperactive) and if it’s sunny (on the rare occasion it is in Scotland) they complain of the heat. Well here the elements really do predict the atmosphere in the classrooms. Some of them have no walls or they have holes in the tin roofs, so when it rains they get wet. Some are however fortunate enough to have fans cooling the students from the unbearable humidity here, or at least the one student sitting directly underneath it; there is no air conditioning. Or we could even use the example of shoes. Kennedy school and St Mary’s, which we have also enjoyed visiting, is one of the more affluent schools yet many students do not have shoes and during monsoon season (Sept-Dec) this can cause fevers and illness, which we have witnessed. Today we saw many children actually wade through deep puddles, making their way to school. Now that’s ‘willingness to succeed’ don’t you think!
Visiting these schools has been a real education to me but I trust they also learned something from our visit. I mentioned earlier that initially we were overwhelmed by their hospitality and generosity of our hosts. It made me question the justice and purpose of our visit. “What can we give them? How can we repay them for their kindness towards us?” The answer was obvious and so over the next two days we put our everything into giving them the best gift we have: the gospel.
We spent our mornings dressings up, using props made out of bits and bobs gathered from different hostel rooms and our larger than large rucksacks; it’s amazing what you can make with some tinfoil and a few wire coat hangers. The children loved Lorna’s impression of a 600-year-old Noah and they didn’t even flinch when we splashed (soaked) them with water during the forty days of rain! Our afternoon was blessed by a session of questioning and discussion with the senior students from St Mary’s school. They were keen to learn of our culture and what the real ingredients of haggis were. Many asked questions about our faith, our families and why we had chosen the name ‘Soul Touch’. We answered them all as best we could but I hope the answer to the latter is obvious. That is our greatest desire: that these children would see beyond our white skin and big smiles and they learn something of God’s love for them.
Our time at Kennedy school was a complete joy as well as being completely exhausting and we loved every second of it. We know that some of you peeps in St Andrew’s also fell in love with the pupils and staff there and so we pray that this is the start of a connection and a friendship that will continue and will bless all the children in both India and Scotland.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Arriving In India
So we finally arrived in India and were met with yet another “royal” welcome. Captain Thacker (aye aye captain), Raj (pastor of Christ the Rock Church in Chennai) and his stunning daughter, Sharon, met us at the airport. If you’ve read about the fiasco that was Sri Lanka you’ll know that our time there was short (thankfully) and that we left there on a whim of excitement, delirious from our two day trauma at the Indian Embassy. Amidst the excitement we managed only to email Raj and upload the blog, failing (polite way of saying forgetting) to phone them to check they even got the email…doh! Later they told us of how they found out we had managed to get the visas and that we were on our way: they read the blog! Not only that, they read it at 10am on the Friday morning and our flight arrived at 10.40…talk about perfect timing! So they met us with beautiful smiles and open arms. For a minute we weren’t sure if Raj was the pastor we were supposed to meet or he was a member or the Indian paparazzi, as he furiously scurried infront of us flashing his camera shouting “cheese” and “Praise God”; from the latter we assumed he was indeed the pastor.
So we have been here only a day and already we feel very much at home, Not only are the people unbelievably hospitable (and Jackie you are so right, they are full to overflowing with grace) but their church is so active that one days activities feels like one weeks.
We started our day with the drive from our hostel to the church; we are hoping that tomorrow we can move somewhere a wee bity closer but we’ll wait and see. Taking in the mirage of colourful saris, acclimatising to the heat and working out why the men were wearing mini skirts (sorry the dhotis) were just some of the things that occupied our journey. We have not even seen the Taj Mahal yet but I am already convinced that India itself is one of the Seven Wonders of the World. Although in the past we have seen people similar, the familiar littering of bodies huddled under rags, scattered along filthy streets bothers me. It disturbs my conscience and I ask God to break my heart. Strange thing to ask you may think but what I mean is that I asked him never allow me to become immune to such tragedy. The poverty here is obvious immediately and yet I am told that we wont visit the slums until Wednesday; I am incapable of imagining what hell the people there must be living in.
And so we reach the church. By now pastor Raj is sitting quietly (his camera safely charging after it’s frenzied outing to the airport) talking to an elderly gentlemen in a room that appears to be a church lounge or vestibule; over the course of the day it is occupied but people, young and old. Some come in to rest, some to drink water, some to use the bathroom and others to greet their new Scottish friends (measuring them for Saris). Later on a tour of these humble dwellings we discover that this is not the church it is Pastor Raj’s home…and well yes it is also the church. Let me explain.
Raj and his wife Vanitha have ministered to the people in Chennai for the past twenty years and during that time they have lived (with their daughter of 17 years) basically in the church. They have two small bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen (it may be humble but my goodness they manage to rustle up some delicious –non spicy- grub in there) and a sitting room, also known as the church community area. Now this feeling of humility is becoming all too well known. It is how we have been made to feel in every home we visited in Africa and now in India. They have very little (in comparison to our increasingly sickening wealth) yet they are so, so hospitable! In short…we love them to pieces! Our day of singing, dancing, acting and sweating (profusely) with the youth was concluded with an evening bible study in which we met some of the congregation. Lorna gave her testimony beautifully (it’s all on candid camera Helen so you’ll be able to watch, greet ‘n’ be wonderfully proud…I was ‘n’ I’m no even her mammy!).
Finally I can’t go to bed without at least one miracle of the day. I got my voice back. I know for many of you, you may have thought it a blessing that Little Miss Chatterbox was made to be quiet for a little while but in actual fact it was quite a frightening and depressing experience. You see it wasn’t my speaking voice that was affected, it just sounded huskier and sexier than usual. It was my singing voice! For anyone who knows me even remotely well you will know I love to sing. Nothing uplifts me more than singing in church; singing to God. So to have that taken away from me was horrible. It made me fear God.
Lots of people think of God as a God of love, solely a God of love. It’s easier to believe and makes us feel better. We convince he is a God that only protects nurtures and tends to his precious flock. Yes well so do I but what father loves without disciplining their children? What father nurtures without encouraging and at times forcing their children to grow? Exactly not a very good one. And so I have a wonderful father (yes as well as Bob Bonnar). I have a father in heaven whom I love dearly but whom I fear. I recognise that God has the power to give and to take away. Tonight he restored my voice and I was able to sing in church and minister to our friends there. I felt so happy but it was more than a temporary fuzzy feeling. I still have that feeling within me. I relied on God throughout my “no voice trauma”. ‘N’ no I’m not being a diva it was really that bad. One evening I tried to sing as we were walking. It so happened it was raining that evening and the roads were wet Lorna actually thought it was a frog making crude noises. I have never experienced that sort of pain in my throat before that no medicine seemed to cure. I was embarrassed and worried that I would never be able to sing again. Infact several times I thought about writing on the blog and asking you all to pray but it seems someone somewhere was. I know we were. We prayed…and prayed…and prayed and tonight I sang for the first time! Praise God.
N guess what, Kermit’s been booked for another gig tomorrow morning at Christ the Rock church! I’m off to rest my voice n pray that they’ll be blessed!
Love you all…n then some Erica x
So we have been here only a day and already we feel very much at home, Not only are the people unbelievably hospitable (and Jackie you are so right, they are full to overflowing with grace) but their church is so active that one days activities feels like one weeks.
We started our day with the drive from our hostel to the church; we are hoping that tomorrow we can move somewhere a wee bity closer but we’ll wait and see. Taking in the mirage of colourful saris, acclimatising to the heat and working out why the men were wearing mini skirts (sorry the dhotis) were just some of the things that occupied our journey. We have not even seen the Taj Mahal yet but I am already convinced that India itself is one of the Seven Wonders of the World. Although in the past we have seen people similar, the familiar littering of bodies huddled under rags, scattered along filthy streets bothers me. It disturbs my conscience and I ask God to break my heart. Strange thing to ask you may think but what I mean is that I asked him never allow me to become immune to such tragedy. The poverty here is obvious immediately and yet I am told that we wont visit the slums until Wednesday; I am incapable of imagining what hell the people there must be living in.
And so we reach the church. By now pastor Raj is sitting quietly (his camera safely charging after it’s frenzied outing to the airport) talking to an elderly gentlemen in a room that appears to be a church lounge or vestibule; over the course of the day it is occupied but people, young and old. Some come in to rest, some to drink water, some to use the bathroom and others to greet their new Scottish friends (measuring them for Saris). Later on a tour of these humble dwellings we discover that this is not the church it is Pastor Raj’s home…and well yes it is also the church. Let me explain.
Raj and his wife Vanitha have ministered to the people in Chennai for the past twenty years and during that time they have lived (with their daughter of 17 years) basically in the church. They have two small bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen (it may be humble but my goodness they manage to rustle up some delicious –non spicy- grub in there) and a sitting room, also known as the church community area. Now this feeling of humility is becoming all too well known. It is how we have been made to feel in every home we visited in Africa and now in India. They have very little (in comparison to our increasingly sickening wealth) yet they are so, so hospitable! In short…we love them to pieces! Our day of singing, dancing, acting and sweating (profusely) with the youth was concluded with an evening bible study in which we met some of the congregation. Lorna gave her testimony beautifully (it’s all on candid camera Helen so you’ll be able to watch, greet ‘n’ be wonderfully proud…I was ‘n’ I’m no even her mammy!).
Finally I can’t go to bed without at least one miracle of the day. I got my voice back. I know for many of you, you may have thought it a blessing that Little Miss Chatterbox was made to be quiet for a little while but in actual fact it was quite a frightening and depressing experience. You see it wasn’t my speaking voice that was affected, it just sounded huskier and sexier than usual. It was my singing voice! For anyone who knows me even remotely well you will know I love to sing. Nothing uplifts me more than singing in church; singing to God. So to have that taken away from me was horrible. It made me fear God.
Lots of people think of God as a God of love, solely a God of love. It’s easier to believe and makes us feel better. We convince he is a God that only protects nurtures and tends to his precious flock. Yes well so do I but what father loves without disciplining their children? What father nurtures without encouraging and at times forcing their children to grow? Exactly not a very good one. And so I have a wonderful father (yes as well as Bob Bonnar). I have a father in heaven whom I love dearly but whom I fear. I recognise that God has the power to give and to take away. Tonight he restored my voice and I was able to sing in church and minister to our friends there. I felt so happy but it was more than a temporary fuzzy feeling. I still have that feeling within me. I relied on God throughout my “no voice trauma”. ‘N’ no I’m not being a diva it was really that bad. One evening I tried to sing as we were walking. It so happened it was raining that evening and the roads were wet Lorna actually thought it was a frog making crude noises. I have never experienced that sort of pain in my throat before that no medicine seemed to cure. I was embarrassed and worried that I would never be able to sing again. Infact several times I thought about writing on the blog and asking you all to pray but it seems someone somewhere was. I know we were. We prayed…and prayed…and prayed and tonight I sang for the first time! Praise God.
N guess what, Kermit’s been booked for another gig tomorrow morning at Christ the Rock church! I’m off to rest my voice n pray that they’ll be blessed!
Love you all…n then some Erica x
Friday, October 19, 2007
Gate-crashing India
Since leaving home at the end of June and jet setting off to the land of Moz, with a crew of eleven other crazy Scots, life has been...interesting, blessed and a constant rollercoaster of emotions. Facing and overcoming a multitude of challenges including the authorities in Moz, running on the beach with Tim in Moz (trust me that was a challenge, the man is fast and mean!). Then, the possibility of being homeless (or hostel-less) in South Africa, arriving in Uganda in the middle of the night and having to persuade a taxi driver to take us on a road deemed "too dangerous" to drive on. Then as if that hadn't knackered us out enough we had to endure a week of Englishmen/women, our tent flooding, crossing Lake Victoria on a fishing boat with no life jackets and they even made us jump off a crane. All of this before we even reached Dwelling places where the "Peace Child" extravaganza was set to take over our lives, our dreams, our speech and our thoughts; talk about Drama! Then at the end of all that we went to Kenya...Baaa! Yeah you all know the story. It was a whirlwind romance to say the least; we painted, sung, danced, laughed and ultimately cried when we had to leave.
So we headed for Israel- the Miami of the Middle East. There we were spiritually challenged, if not physically and we learned a lot. So back on the plane we waddled (seriously they have got food in Africa they just give it all to the Mazoongos).
We were warned of how thorough the Israeli securities were but nothing had prepared us for this. They emptied both our rucksacks. Lorna managed to escape with a brisk search but for some reason they seemed convinced I was hiding something...they even checked the under wires of my bras, all one of them! Eventually (after convincing them to repack it for me- they may have guns but hey we are cute) we landed in Cairo, where we dashed around seeing pyramids, camels and sphinx, smelling exotic perfumes -forced on us by Egyptian men- and at the end of it all we came out with very sore feet but hey at least they smelled sweet.
So this is where I think we are up to. And now we are in India...no wait a minute no we're not we're in Sri Lanka. We got our pretty little butts swiftly deported from India as we didn't have "party invitations",as Lorna would call them. Seemingly in India they call them Visas and you need them to enter the country.
So it would appear Soul Touch was ready to jump, crawl (at some points in the past two days we've even had to climb) over our first major hurdle; and what a blessing it has been getting over it. Before I continue breath out; it's fine we are safe and feeling wonderfully blessed right now. After what has been probably the most exhausting forty eight hours of our mission so far we can proudly say we have lived to tell the tale. So here goes:
We left Cairo early after discovering (on our way to the airport) that in actually fact it was not Wednesday (the day our tickets were booked for) but it was still Tuesday. In our defense we were traveling in so many different time zones that really it was easy not get mixed up with what day we were on, or at least that's our story and we're sticking to it. Anyway Muhammad, our tour guide, new friend and a complete gentleman, spoke to Emirates on our behalf and changed the flights with no additional costs. However, it did mean that we had no time in Dubai and we literally rushed through the airport, flashing our UK passports (which it would appear nobody ever questions) and before we knew it we were in Chennai, India.
Now for the remainder of the story you must imagine a wonderfully Bollywood accent every time an Indian or Sri Lankan person is talking. It really is much more amusing and yes they do wiggle their heads when they talk; we are yet to discover why but it's hilarious never the less and long may it continue!
So first Hoddit (Erica) approached the desk.
"Wer iz ur veesa," an Indian gentleman seated behind a desk, masked by a computer screen asked as he shook my pink passport infront of me (thanks for that 3L2).
"I'm here to get one!" Hoddit replied, equally as confused as the irrate Indian. This had never happened before; when you arrive in a country you get a stamp..no? Then very calmly and quietly the gentleman gestured for me to stand to the side, beckoning Dottit (Lorna) to come forward.
"Eh excuse me. She is with me." I stuttered, suddenly embarrassed, as Lorna was shooed over next to me. I was standing in the dunce’s corner! We stood for a while wondering why we were getting "special treatment" and then a man with a walkie talkie came and we learned why.
By this time the immigration office was completely empty and the hundreds of Indians who had once filled it had dispersed along with the few Mazoongos who had obviously planned for the party beforehand. We were led into a small room which was occupied by about ten men speaking, either English very fast, or another language. In either case their heads were bobbing ten to the dozen and the awkward glances they were making in our direction indicated we were in trouble.
The next voice to speak to us was all a bit bizarre and to be honest we are still waiting for a punch line. The way he delivered it, it sounded like a joke.
"Yoo can nut bee her." He commanded, without so much as a glance in our direction.
Looking up for candid cameras I turned to Doddit. "What...eh? Is he being serious?" Both Lorna and I felt that this could not be happening to us. We were doing God's work. How could we have messed up so badly? What would our families think? These thoughts plagued us but only for a short while. Within minutes we were escorted "out of India"!
"You can nut evan stand her," we were told. So we didn't; we came to Sri Lanka.
And so that is where we are now. Over the last forty eight hours we have tackled the monumental task of applying and eventually recieving an Indian Visa. It has been a long, slow, slow process but as always God has reigned supreme and proven more powerful than all authorities and fears. Not only has he done that but he has done it in a spectacular way. Lorna and I have been told at least one hundred times that there is no way you can obtain an Indian Visa in less than five working days. Infact it is "imposs-bubble", "unherd of", "it simpee cannut happun". Oh but it has!
After being told to go away for the hundredth time and (literally) having doors shut in our faces we phoned the British High Commission. Yes it's amazing how much strength, confidence and wisdom God gives you in these situations. Wisdom I certainly didn't think I had. They in turn got in touch with the Indian High commission and within the hour we were sitting in the head office, with the main man: the deputy to the High Commissioner himself and our visas were being processed.
So we have another stamp in our little books and we have flights booked to go to Chennai tomorrow morning. There we will continue God's work and meet with our dear friends who have been waiting patiently for us.
Finally thank you for all your prayers. They are powerful and today is a testimony that they re being answered!
Much love Hoddit and Doddit, the soul touchers.
So we headed for Israel- the Miami of the Middle East. There we were spiritually challenged, if not physically and we learned a lot. So back on the plane we waddled (seriously they have got food in Africa they just give it all to the Mazoongos).
We were warned of how thorough the Israeli securities were but nothing had prepared us for this. They emptied both our rucksacks. Lorna managed to escape with a brisk search but for some reason they seemed convinced I was hiding something...they even checked the under wires of my bras, all one of them! Eventually (after convincing them to repack it for me- they may have guns but hey we are cute) we landed in Cairo, where we dashed around seeing pyramids, camels and sphinx, smelling exotic perfumes -forced on us by Egyptian men- and at the end of it all we came out with very sore feet but hey at least they smelled sweet.
So this is where I think we are up to. And now we are in India...no wait a minute no we're not we're in Sri Lanka. We got our pretty little butts swiftly deported from India as we didn't have "party invitations",as Lorna would call them. Seemingly in India they call them Visas and you need them to enter the country.
So it would appear Soul Touch was ready to jump, crawl (at some points in the past two days we've even had to climb) over our first major hurdle; and what a blessing it has been getting over it. Before I continue breath out; it's fine we are safe and feeling wonderfully blessed right now. After what has been probably the most exhausting forty eight hours of our mission so far we can proudly say we have lived to tell the tale. So here goes:
We left Cairo early after discovering (on our way to the airport) that in actually fact it was not Wednesday (the day our tickets were booked for) but it was still Tuesday. In our defense we were traveling in so many different time zones that really it was easy not get mixed up with what day we were on, or at least that's our story and we're sticking to it. Anyway Muhammad, our tour guide, new friend and a complete gentleman, spoke to Emirates on our behalf and changed the flights with no additional costs. However, it did mean that we had no time in Dubai and we literally rushed through the airport, flashing our UK passports (which it would appear nobody ever questions) and before we knew it we were in Chennai, India.
Now for the remainder of the story you must imagine a wonderfully Bollywood accent every time an Indian or Sri Lankan person is talking. It really is much more amusing and yes they do wiggle their heads when they talk; we are yet to discover why but it's hilarious never the less and long may it continue!
So first Hoddit (Erica) approached the desk.
"Wer iz ur veesa," an Indian gentleman seated behind a desk, masked by a computer screen asked as he shook my pink passport infront of me (thanks for that 3L2).
"I'm here to get one!" Hoddit replied, equally as confused as the irrate Indian. This had never happened before; when you arrive in a country you get a stamp..no? Then very calmly and quietly the gentleman gestured for me to stand to the side, beckoning Dottit (Lorna) to come forward.
"Eh excuse me. She is with me." I stuttered, suddenly embarrassed, as Lorna was shooed over next to me. I was standing in the dunce’s corner! We stood for a while wondering why we were getting "special treatment" and then a man with a walkie talkie came and we learned why.
By this time the immigration office was completely empty and the hundreds of Indians who had once filled it had dispersed along with the few Mazoongos who had obviously planned for the party beforehand. We were led into a small room which was occupied by about ten men speaking, either English very fast, or another language. In either case their heads were bobbing ten to the dozen and the awkward glances they were making in our direction indicated we were in trouble.
The next voice to speak to us was all a bit bizarre and to be honest we are still waiting for a punch line. The way he delivered it, it sounded like a joke.
"Yoo can nut bee her." He commanded, without so much as a glance in our direction.
Looking up for candid cameras I turned to Doddit. "What...eh? Is he being serious?" Both Lorna and I felt that this could not be happening to us. We were doing God's work. How could we have messed up so badly? What would our families think? These thoughts plagued us but only for a short while. Within minutes we were escorted "out of India"!
"You can nut evan stand her," we were told. So we didn't; we came to Sri Lanka.
And so that is where we are now. Over the last forty eight hours we have tackled the monumental task of applying and eventually recieving an Indian Visa. It has been a long, slow, slow process but as always God has reigned supreme and proven more powerful than all authorities and fears. Not only has he done that but he has done it in a spectacular way. Lorna and I have been told at least one hundred times that there is no way you can obtain an Indian Visa in less than five working days. Infact it is "imposs-bubble", "unherd of", "it simpee cannut happun". Oh but it has!
After being told to go away for the hundredth time and (literally) having doors shut in our faces we phoned the British High Commission. Yes it's amazing how much strength, confidence and wisdom God gives you in these situations. Wisdom I certainly didn't think I had. They in turn got in touch with the Indian High commission and within the hour we were sitting in the head office, with the main man: the deputy to the High Commissioner himself and our visas were being processed.
So we have another stamp in our little books and we have flights booked to go to Chennai tomorrow morning. There we will continue God's work and meet with our dear friends who have been waiting patiently for us.
Finally thank you for all your prayers. They are powerful and today is a testimony that they re being answered!
Much love Hoddit and Doddit, the soul touchers.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Where´s Jesus At?!...
Hey Soul Touch groupies! Now that Israel is back in the sunset and that India is on the horizan i would like to let you in on some of the experiences that i had in Israel. I knew that God had called me and Erica to go to Israel, it was the big one that God had boomed on our confused but willing hearts.
Everytime i thought of Israel I just saw the images of tanks, bombs, angry and terrified people! It seemed when we booked the trip to Israel, these images seemed to appear more and more in my face, nice one! I cry when i hear a balloon burst so i was asking God for that armour he asks us to wear, but to give me a double, double plated one!
First experience in Israel was the airport. My first thoughts were - 'Quick, Lorna, take off your shoes - your going to make the floor dirty.' It was a grand sparkling, shiny, shiny, shiny airport. When we went to the toilets i spent about 30 seconds just admiring the toilet seat and wait for it...there was a flush! It was such a difference to the whole in the ground, infested with big fat African flies that I'm sure have a laugh at landing on your face in such private moments. It almost brought a tear to my eye to know that it was just me and the toilet, the prettiest toilet i had ever seen. I really feel that this is going to break into a love story. I knew that Erica had felt the same way when she came out the toilet with a smile so big i could see her back molars.
Moving on from the toilet chat, I loved everything about Israel. There was no war, no rubble, yeah we seen soldiers with guns but my 2 day unbrushed hair looked scarier than them!. I thanked God for everything there which included the beach, the bathroom next to my hotel bed, my new shower towel every day and my morning ice coffee x 100.
But really, me and Erica felt weird. It's kinda daunting when you know that you have been called to a place, yet there wasn't a mission set out for us. I caught myself looking up into the skies or looking out to the sea to see if God was going to bring a miracle sign to me! But no angels or walking on water Jesus in sight I realised that i should just exhale and know that God just wanted us to relax in His glory...with an ice coffee in my hand.
" Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and i will give you rest" ( Matt:11:28)
It was exactly what we needed straight after our work that we had done in Africa. Erica couldn't even sleep her pretty head down at nights because she was so excited at the rest on the beach the next day!
God did reveal himself in a big way when we were in Israel. During our stay we booked a couple of biblical tours. On our tour to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher our bus parked on the side of Mount Zion. I don't know why i was expecting it to look like a volcano, but it was just a ordinary hill! I knew then that this visit was going to bring me into the bible's realism. I was standing on the hill where Moses met God, i was at the Hill of Calvary where Jesus was crucified and buried and i was at the wailing wall saying my prayers. There was no dancing angels or holy lights flashing but God reminded me that Jesus was put on the same earth as me, living a life just like mine. He didn't get any special treatment - he was persecuted, treated worse because he loved us more.
I saw many people at these places crying and mourning for Jesus. At the entrance of the tomb where Jesus was buried, Dave - our tour guide, came over to us and pointed to the sky. He said, " This was where Jesus was lifted up into the Heavens!"
I looked up and felt my knees go weak. Its hard to describe how a ceiling painting made me feel but one of the emotions I felt was joy! I went into the tomb with a smile on my face and came out with a bigger smile! Nope i definately didn't find him in the tomb, I didn't find him on the cross and I didn't find him in the courtyard. I found him in my heart.
John 14v18
"When I go, you will not be left alone; i will come back to you 19, In a little while the world will see me no more, but you will see me; and because i live you also will live. 20 When that day comes, you will know that I am in my Father and that you are in me, just as i am in you."
It doesn't matter where you go in the earth, whether it be the slums in Africa, The Church of the Holy Sepulcher or even your cosy bed, if you search for Jesus in your heart you will find him with you. He's asking you to ask, seek and knock and all things will be given to you that you need (Luke 11: 9-13) It may have been the 112th time that you read that passage or the 1st time but i think it is important to highlight that there is no limitation of what God can do for your life...note that he says 'For everyone who asks'. Thats you he is talking to. And if your not knocking at his door then he's knocking at your's!
Rev3v20
"Listen! I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, i will come in and eat with them and they will eat with me."
God is never far away from us, infact he's never away from us. You don't have to go Jesus hunting in Israel, he comes to visit you! But i am glad i visited Jesus' hometown, met his neighbours and visited his local breadshop. It really did step me into the bible.
You will be reading soon about our experience of being deported from India to Sri Lanka! me and Erica gatecrashed India without a party pass also know as a little thing called a Visa. It is one of my biggest testimonies by far and i hope that you enjoy reading Erica's story on what happened.
Now we are waiting for our flight to India tomorrow. We will be entering their country!There's no stopping the Soul Touchers....except when we don't have Visa's.
Big hugs and another Lorna xx
Everytime i thought of Israel I just saw the images of tanks, bombs, angry and terrified people! It seemed when we booked the trip to Israel, these images seemed to appear more and more in my face, nice one! I cry when i hear a balloon burst so i was asking God for that armour he asks us to wear, but to give me a double, double plated one!
First experience in Israel was the airport. My first thoughts were - 'Quick, Lorna, take off your shoes - your going to make the floor dirty.' It was a grand sparkling, shiny, shiny, shiny airport. When we went to the toilets i spent about 30 seconds just admiring the toilet seat and wait for it...there was a flush! It was such a difference to the whole in the ground, infested with big fat African flies that I'm sure have a laugh at landing on your face in such private moments. It almost brought a tear to my eye to know that it was just me and the toilet, the prettiest toilet i had ever seen. I really feel that this is going to break into a love story. I knew that Erica had felt the same way when she came out the toilet with a smile so big i could see her back molars.
Moving on from the toilet chat, I loved everything about Israel. There was no war, no rubble, yeah we seen soldiers with guns but my 2 day unbrushed hair looked scarier than them!. I thanked God for everything there which included the beach, the bathroom next to my hotel bed, my new shower towel every day and my morning ice coffee x 100.
But really, me and Erica felt weird. It's kinda daunting when you know that you have been called to a place, yet there wasn't a mission set out for us. I caught myself looking up into the skies or looking out to the sea to see if God was going to bring a miracle sign to me! But no angels or walking on water Jesus in sight I realised that i should just exhale and know that God just wanted us to relax in His glory...with an ice coffee in my hand.
" Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and i will give you rest" ( Matt:11:28)
It was exactly what we needed straight after our work that we had done in Africa. Erica couldn't even sleep her pretty head down at nights because she was so excited at the rest on the beach the next day!
God did reveal himself in a big way when we were in Israel. During our stay we booked a couple of biblical tours. On our tour to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher our bus parked on the side of Mount Zion. I don't know why i was expecting it to look like a volcano, but it was just a ordinary hill! I knew then that this visit was going to bring me into the bible's realism. I was standing on the hill where Moses met God, i was at the Hill of Calvary where Jesus was crucified and buried and i was at the wailing wall saying my prayers. There was no dancing angels or holy lights flashing but God reminded me that Jesus was put on the same earth as me, living a life just like mine. He didn't get any special treatment - he was persecuted, treated worse because he loved us more.
I saw many people at these places crying and mourning for Jesus. At the entrance of the tomb where Jesus was buried, Dave - our tour guide, came over to us and pointed to the sky. He said, " This was where Jesus was lifted up into the Heavens!"
I looked up and felt my knees go weak. Its hard to describe how a ceiling painting made me feel but one of the emotions I felt was joy! I went into the tomb with a smile on my face and came out with a bigger smile! Nope i definately didn't find him in the tomb, I didn't find him on the cross and I didn't find him in the courtyard. I found him in my heart.
John 14v18
"When I go, you will not be left alone; i will come back to you 19, In a little while the world will see me no more, but you will see me; and because i live you also will live. 20 When that day comes, you will know that I am in my Father and that you are in me, just as i am in you."
It doesn't matter where you go in the earth, whether it be the slums in Africa, The Church of the Holy Sepulcher or even your cosy bed, if you search for Jesus in your heart you will find him with you. He's asking you to ask, seek and knock and all things will be given to you that you need (Luke 11: 9-13) It may have been the 112th time that you read that passage or the 1st time but i think it is important to highlight that there is no limitation of what God can do for your life...note that he says 'For everyone who asks'. Thats you he is talking to. And if your not knocking at his door then he's knocking at your's!
Rev3v20
"Listen! I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, i will come in and eat with them and they will eat with me."
God is never far away from us, infact he's never away from us. You don't have to go Jesus hunting in Israel, he comes to visit you! But i am glad i visited Jesus' hometown, met his neighbours and visited his local breadshop. It really did step me into the bible.
You will be reading soon about our experience of being deported from India to Sri Lanka! me and Erica gatecrashed India without a party pass also know as a little thing called a Visa. It is one of my biggest testimonies by far and i hope that you enjoy reading Erica's story on what happened.
Now we are waiting for our flight to India tomorrow. We will be entering their country!There's no stopping the Soul Touchers....except when we don't have Visa's.
Big hugs and another Lorna xx
Monday, October 15, 2007
Holocust Museum
What's New?
So what's different?
Have we moved on?
I really don't want to appear a typically hysterical, or heaven forbid, soppy female. I don't even want to write my emotions; my feelings on this subject are really irrelevant. In fact they're so muddled at the moment that they would only confuse you anyway.
What I want to write is something of what I have just seen and heard: images; words and feelings of people being persecuted; tortured; displaced; humiliated.
Although I cried and yes my heart broke the sensation of hopelessness and pain I felt as I walked around the museum is not a new one for me. These images were in black and white because the atrocities against the Jews happened in the past, many years ago. But the images really reflected what is going on right now.
You see the starving children on the streets of Europe may look different: the faces of the Jews were not black; their noses are long and straight, not flat, and their lips thin. But really the colour of their skin is not relevant either. The pictures in the museum are not unlike the ones we took only weeks ago in Africa. They are all displaced. People are still being humiliated under cruel dictatorship. What struck me most in the museum was that there was a section dedicated to a particular ship. A ship that was once full of Jewish refugees. They tried to enter several countries, including America and Britain, but nobody wanted them. So they just floated not knowing their fate. These people were completed displaced and rejected while the rest of the world refused to take any responsibility for them. So what's new? Nothing?
A different place maybe: Gulu? The children have different coloured skin. The torture instruments being used are different.
But...is our generation, the one you and I belong to; the one reading this now, are we going to refuse responsibility? Are we going to be displayed in a museum in fifty years time, described as neglectful? I don't want to be. I don't want my name displayed there; do you?
Start right now by praying that you can used to help the people in Gulu.
God bless, the Soul Touchers
So what's different?
Have we moved on?
I really don't want to appear a typically hysterical, or heaven forbid, soppy female. I don't even want to write my emotions; my feelings on this subject are really irrelevant. In fact they're so muddled at the moment that they would only confuse you anyway.
What I want to write is something of what I have just seen and heard: images; words and feelings of people being persecuted; tortured; displaced; humiliated.
Although I cried and yes my heart broke the sensation of hopelessness and pain I felt as I walked around the museum is not a new one for me. These images were in black and white because the atrocities against the Jews happened in the past, many years ago. But the images really reflected what is going on right now.
You see the starving children on the streets of Europe may look different: the faces of the Jews were not black; their noses are long and straight, not flat, and their lips thin. But really the colour of their skin is not relevant either. The pictures in the museum are not unlike the ones we took only weeks ago in Africa. They are all displaced. People are still being humiliated under cruel dictatorship. What struck me most in the museum was that there was a section dedicated to a particular ship. A ship that was once full of Jewish refugees. They tried to enter several countries, including America and Britain, but nobody wanted them. So they just floated not knowing their fate. These people were completed displaced and rejected while the rest of the world refused to take any responsibility for them. So what's new? Nothing?
A different place maybe: Gulu? The children have different coloured skin. The torture instruments being used are different.
But...is our generation, the one you and I belong to; the one reading this now, are we going to refuse responsibility? Are we going to be displayed in a museum in fifty years time, described as neglectful? I don't want to be. I don't want my name displayed there; do you?
Start right now by praying that you can used to help the people in Gulu.
God bless, the Soul Touchers
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Fun In Israel
Ha if we're never famous for anything else we will be for causing chaos in Israel I'm sure. Few wee memories we want to share with ya! We love Israel! It's stunning, peaceful and safe, contrary to what we are told at home! I think they do that so no-one comes here and they have all this to themselves!
First night here and Lorna and I decided to go for something to eat. While we were innocently enjoying the tranquillity of the sea front, the sound of the waves and lack of mosquito's (although we have found that the men can be just as irritating!)
suddenly the restaurant burst into song; it was obviously someones birthday. It looked so much fun, sparklers and all.
"Ah it's my birthday too!" I joked (no I didn't lie dad it was supposed to be a joke. A very obvious one I thought).
Next thing I knew I was in the air! Seriously I was surrounded by waiters, equipped with tambourines and sparklers who proceeded to bounce me up and down (and up and down and wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwup again) in the air, despite my screaming; if anything it seemed to encourage them. As for Miss Main the excitement was all too much for her; she was speechless. Ahh well I guess it's true what they say: God brings good out of every situation!
Fame? Yes Lorna and I were seemingly on Israeli television yesterday. We were filmed on the beach. 'N' no it wasn't a whale sighting documentary Roy before you ask! We were just walking but they didn't ask permission. I'm sure we can sue for Royalties or something though. Do they not know who we are!?
First night here and Lorna and I decided to go for something to eat. While we were innocently enjoying the tranquillity of the sea front, the sound of the waves and lack of mosquito's (although we have found that the men can be just as irritating!)
suddenly the restaurant burst into song; it was obviously someones birthday. It looked so much fun, sparklers and all."Ah it's my birthday too!" I joked (no I didn't lie dad it was supposed to be a joke. A very obvious one I thought).
Next thing I knew I was in the air! Seriously I was surrounded by waiters, equipped with tambourines and sparklers who proceeded to bounce me up and down (and up and down and wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwup again) in the air, despite my screaming; if anything it seemed to encourage them. As for Miss Main the excitement was all too much for her; she was speechless. Ahh well I guess it's true what they say: God brings good out of every situation!
Fame? Yes Lorna and I were seemingly on Israeli television yesterday. We were filmed on the beach. 'N' no it wasn't a whale sighting documentary Roy before you ask! We were just walking but they didn't ask permission. I'm sure we can sue for Royalties or something though. Do they not know who we are!?
Friday, October 12, 2007
Leadership?
By the year 2010 there will be fifty million children in the world orphaned because of aids and conflict.
Sometimes when I speak to people over here I write down what they say; we photograph them and video their stories. This is one statistic I didn't write down. It shocked me so much it is ingrained in my head and plays over and over. Similarly the picture of the starving and homeless children we saw in Africa is one I don't need to show you or even recreate; you have seen it before and you know it exists.
What I hadn't thought of before is the global and economic impact that this poverty will have, not only on Africa but on the rest of the world. You've heard how the police in Peru deal with this increasing problem: they sweep it up. They perform mass "sweep up" operations whereby they gas the children out of the sewers or worse still they feed them rat poisoning so they die slowly and painfully like vermin, because after all that is how they are viewed there, and all around the world. Orphans, street children, child soldiers, invisible children, abandoned children, they have been given all sorts of different names but ultimately they are seen as nuisances.
I don't believe that any one of your reading this blog now is of the same opinion as the police in Peru. In fact I know that many of you already support children all over the world. The fact that you are reading this right now is a support to us, two people striving to help these children and make their stories heard.
Dwelling Places, The Vine Trust and Watoto are three amazing organisations all doing wonderful things to save these children from the streets and the hands of cruel, ineffective governments. So if you are not involved already we urge you to get involved.
Don't turn off the computer and think it doesn't effect you. Have you children? Are you planning to have children in the future? Will you be here in the year 2010! Yes, exactly it is incredibly soon. We're talking about three years time. What age will you be? There will be fifty million children homeless or worse still dead around the world. Don't think they will all just suddenly appear either. They are already here. You've seen their pictures on our blog. You know that there are things that we can do to start changing this process so that stops.
The Vine Trust works in partnership with Scripture Union Peru building homes for street children and educating them; they teach them the gospel. Dwelling Places is the home we just left in Uganda. They rescue street children and try to re-establish contact with their parents, rehabilitating them in the process; they teach them the gospel. Watoto is a village in Uganda which houses abandoned children. They place them in homes, each home has a mother and a maximum of 8 children. They educate them, care for all of their needs and teach them the gospel.
Teaching the gospel is a priority for all of these organisations as you can see. But how do they do it? They teach them it by living it! They are feeding the hungry, clothing the naked and rescuing the orphans. Have you ever asked how you can be Christan's in this world and how we can start making a difference. Well now's your chance. Each time you do it for "one of the least of my children you do it for me" says the Lord.
"What difference does it make if it's a Christian organisation or not? Lots of people do good things!" I've heard this many times. Yes. but if you're not teaching them the gospel and you're simply educating them well think about this. You could be educating the next Saddam Hussein or Adolf Hitler and how much more dangerous are they with an education! Think about it. Surely Jesus' philosophy of "loving one another" is better then any of theirs. I know who I want to follow. We saw the news recently and people in Britain were moaning about Gordon Brown. We constantly moan about leadership but we could be doing something huge to change the future of leadership. God's raising a generation of children in Uganda and Peru (so far that's all we've seen) that love him and want to serve him. Leaders in the making. Leaders we're not scared of!
'N' here's the exciting bit. Remember that sickening feeling you got in your stomach approximately two minutes ago when you read the statistic about orphaned children? Imagine the feeling you would get if you knew that the figure had dropped to 49, 999, 000 and that the one less was the one you were supporting.
Imagine the feeling you could have if you read this blog in three years time and the statistic at the top of the page was shocking...shockingly good. That 50,000, 000 children in the world were growing up loving God 'n' serving him. Now there's a dream. The Vine Trust, Dwelling Places and Watoto are three organisations have started making it a reality. Be part of it!
www.vinetrust.org
www.dwellingplaces.org
www.watoto.com
Sometimes when I speak to people over here I write down what they say; we photograph them and video their stories. This is one statistic I didn't write down. It shocked me so much it is ingrained in my head and plays over and over. Similarly the picture of the starving and homeless children we saw in Africa is one I don't need to show you or even recreate; you have seen it before and you know it exists.
What I hadn't thought of before is the global and economic impact that this poverty will have, not only on Africa but on the rest of the world. You've heard how the police in Peru deal with this increasing problem: they sweep it up. They perform mass "sweep up" operations whereby they gas the children out of the sewers or worse still they feed them rat poisoning so they die slowly and painfully like vermin, because after all that is how they are viewed there, and all around the world. Orphans, street children, child soldiers, invisible children, abandoned children, they have been given all sorts of different names but ultimately they are seen as nuisances.
I don't believe that any one of your reading this blog now is of the same opinion as the police in Peru. In fact I know that many of you already support children all over the world. The fact that you are reading this right now is a support to us, two people striving to help these children and make their stories heard.
Dwelling Places, The Vine Trust and Watoto are three amazing organisations all doing wonderful things to save these children from the streets and the hands of cruel, ineffective governments. So if you are not involved already we urge you to get involved.
Don't turn off the computer and think it doesn't effect you. Have you children? Are you planning to have children in the future? Will you be here in the year 2010! Yes, exactly it is incredibly soon. We're talking about three years time. What age will you be? There will be fifty million children homeless or worse still dead around the world. Don't think they will all just suddenly appear either. They are already here. You've seen their pictures on our blog. You know that there are things that we can do to start changing this process so that stops.
The Vine Trust works in partnership with Scripture Union Peru building homes for street children and educating them; they teach them the gospel. Dwelling Places is the home we just left in Uganda. They rescue street children and try to re-establish contact with their parents, rehabilitating them in the process; they teach them the gospel. Watoto is a village in Uganda which houses abandoned children. They place them in homes, each home has a mother and a maximum of 8 children. They educate them, care for all of their needs and teach them the gospel.
Teaching the gospel is a priority for all of these organisations as you can see. But how do they do it? They teach them it by living it! They are feeding the hungry, clothing the naked and rescuing the orphans. Have you ever asked how you can be Christan's in this world and how we can start making a difference. Well now's your chance. Each time you do it for "one of the least of my children you do it for me" says the Lord.
"What difference does it make if it's a Christian organisation or not? Lots of people do good things!" I've heard this many times. Yes. but if you're not teaching them the gospel and you're simply educating them well think about this. You could be educating the next Saddam Hussein or Adolf Hitler and how much more dangerous are they with an education! Think about it. Surely Jesus' philosophy of "loving one another" is better then any of theirs. I know who I want to follow. We saw the news recently and people in Britain were moaning about Gordon Brown. We constantly moan about leadership but we could be doing something huge to change the future of leadership. God's raising a generation of children in Uganda and Peru (so far that's all we've seen) that love him and want to serve him. Leaders in the making. Leaders we're not scared of!
'N' here's the exciting bit. Remember that sickening feeling you got in your stomach approximately two minutes ago when you read the statistic about orphaned children? Imagine the feeling you would get if you knew that the figure had dropped to 49, 999, 000 and that the one less was the one you were supporting.
Imagine the feeling you could have if you read this blog in three years time and the statistic at the top of the page was shocking...shockingly good. That 50,000, 000 children in the world were growing up loving God 'n' serving him. Now there's a dream. The Vine Trust, Dwelling Places and Watoto are three organisations have started making it a reality. Be part of it!
www.vinetrust.org
www.dwellingplaces.org
www.watoto.com
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Kenya
Now we are fully, well getting there, recovered from our whirlwind tour of Kenya we will tell you a little bit about what we actually did with our time there and why we have such fond memories of the country and the people!
Firstly we arrived to a kings (well princess's) welcome. It was amazing. After spending some 15 hours on the worst road in the Africa, or make that the world, we arrived in sunny Kenya.
The bus screeched to an emergency stop and all of a sudden armed police men entered shouting "Mzoongo, Mzoongo". Of course I immediately elbowed Lorna, who was obliviously picking dead cockroaches off herself, and told her that the police had pulled us over because white people were on the bus. Doh! In actual fact the police had stopped us because Nancy and her crew had asked them too. Next thing we knew beautiful Nancy was calling to us to get our bags and get off the bus.
So we did. The first thing we noticed were their beaming smiles and the number of people who were waiting for us. It really was a warm and totally unexpected welcome. Although still slightly sleepy eyed and whip-lashed from the bus we learned our hosts names relatively quickly:
"Hi nice to meet you," the mzoongos chorused.
"Hi I'm Julius"
"I'm John."
"I'm Jamilick"
"I'm Geoffry," they replied, arms outstretched to hug us.
'N' just when we thought we were all J'd out another voice piped up, "I'm Betty, but you can call me Joyce!" At this point Main had a moment. Giggle tastic!
Ok so we'd met the team, well some of them, and we were taken to Nancy's stunning home where we met her husband...James!!!
Oh how we chuckled.
The first thing we noticed was the volume of chairs in the sitting room. The room was full of beautifully patterned couches and it was very welcoming. Aswell as the couches I noticed some other chairs stacked in the corner. Later we discovered that all of the homes we visited had several chairs in them, crammed around the walls in their living areas. We questioned Nancy about this and she told us that they were for visitors and that they often held church meetings and groups in their homes. We can certainly testify that these people expect visitors. The prepare themselves to have them and they make entertaining them and being hospitable to them part of their lives. Yes I know we all love to do that but you'll see that there's a slgiht differnce to the way we entertain and the way they do it: Kenya style!
While I was talking to Nancy I realised why we had received such a warm, "princess's" welcome. I explained to her that we had never experienced anything like this and that we were actually very humbled and slightly embarrassed to be so joyfully received. "It was like you were receiving royalty," I explained.
As soon as I said it I realised why they had acted this way. "You are God's daughters," she remined me. (Of course we are daughters of the King.) "And so when we welcome you we are welcoming him into our homes and we would only give him the best!"
Of course. It all made sense. For those of you who know us well you will know that we, well I at least, are in no way a princesses (far from it) and we are still not quite sure that we deserved the hospitality we received. However, we are sure that God did and they were right: each time we entered one of their homes we prayed together, we shared together and in everything God was at the centre of it all. So thank you to all our friends in Kenya. We know you will be bountifully blessed because you blessed us so much.
Then, after eating some goat (yes we did a lot of that), we visited the church on Sunday morning. The minister (Robert) wasn't preaching that morning but Lorna and I soon made up for that. Nancy asked us to say a few words, little did she know we like to talk....and talk...and talk. Anyway everyone seemed to enjoy it and even understand our funny accents. We later learned that the reason for Robert's absence was that he is the minster for the parish. Yes, most ministers are you may be wondering what's my point. Well the point is that the parish is so full and so vast that there are actually six congregations and and they are spread over many miles. Wow can you imagine the church in Scotland having so many members and lovers of God that there aren't enough ministers to accommodate them. I can!
That Sunday afternoon we met the youth group, whom we would be sharing and teaching for the rest of the week. We absolutely adore this group of young people. We say young but in actual fact some of them were older than us (ages between 16-30). We spent the rest of the day singing, dancing and doing drama with them. That week we got to know them a lot better. Nancy kept saying you must spend time with the youth and I see why. They are so passionate about God and he is really real to them. They rely on him for everything. I could see why us spending time with them was so important for the church, the same reason that everywhere we have gone people have asked us to focus on the children and young people: they are the future of the church. They are the next generation and as Marylin Skinner recently pointed out they are the next leaders of the country.
Having taught in Scotland (although only for a baby amount of time in comparison to some) I appreciate the importance and emphasise we place on education and exam results. I know that you already understand how important it is to be educated, because you are. But what I have seen in each place I visited in Africa, including Kenya, is that yes it is important to educate children but I saw how important educating them about God is too. How much more confident these children are when they know that they have someone that loves them unconditionally and that God has a plan for their lives. We may think at home that our children don't need this hope, they have other things to distract them, computers, alcohol, fashion. Yeah these things may be satisfying...for a little while but ultimately they want something long term. Something that relates to them, someone who understands them (the way their parents and peers don't') eh... try the gospel!!! So that's a little (only a tiny part) of what we learned from the youth there, as well as how not to paint! If we're ever invited back I guarantee we will not be asked to paint the church again although we had lots of fun doing it!
The youth group then took on the monumental task of taking out my braids and before we knew it, it was time to leave Kenya. We cannot express how much we loved every second of our time there, how much we learned and how much fun we had. We laughed...and laughed...and laughed! We know that our partnership and friendship with them is just at the beginning and it will be lifelong. We pray that you too will get involved in the work of their parish. One of the many things they do in their community is pay for local children to go to school. We had the privilege of meeting some of the children (young people) whose education is paid for by the congregation and they are not necessarily children who attend the church or are even associated with it. It terrifies me to think that there are so many other children, even some of the youth we met, that can not go to school simply because their parents can't afford the fees. I know that it seems we are always asking for you to support our brothers and sisters abroad, well we are visiting them for the next year so perhaps we should get used to it, but we would not ask if we did not see that it was doing some good. Infact a huge amount of good. Giving someone food for the day is keeping them alive, giving them an education is giving them a life and a future. Please get involved. Contact World Without Walls to get in tocvh with Nancy and the J team tehy are waiting and would love to hear from you!
God Bless and much love, the Soul Touchers
Firstly we arrived to a kings (well princess's) welcome. It was amazing. After spending some 15 hours on the worst road in the Africa, or make that the world, we arrived in sunny Kenya.
The bus screeched to an emergency stop and all of a sudden armed police men entered shouting "Mzoongo, Mzoongo". Of course I immediately elbowed Lorna, who was obliviously picking dead cockroaches off herself, and told her that the police had pulled us over because white people were on the bus. Doh! In actual fact the police had stopped us because Nancy and her crew had asked them too. Next thing we knew beautiful Nancy was calling to us to get our bags and get off the bus.
So we did. The first thing we noticed were their beaming smiles and the number of people who were waiting for us. It really was a warm and totally unexpected welcome. Although still slightly sleepy eyed and whip-lashed from the bus we learned our hosts names relatively quickly:
"Hi nice to meet you," the mzoongos chorused.
"Hi I'm Julius"
"I'm John."
"I'm Jamilick"
"I'm Geoffry," they replied, arms outstretched to hug us.
'N' just when we thought we were all J'd out another voice piped up, "I'm Betty, but you can call me Joyce!" At this point Main had a moment. Giggle tastic!
Ok so we'd met the team, well some of them, and we were taken to Nancy's stunning home where we met her husband...James!!!
Oh how we chuckled.
The first thing we noticed was the volume of chairs in the sitting room. The room was full of beautifully patterned couches and it was very welcoming. Aswell as the couches I noticed some other chairs stacked in the corner. Later we discovered that all of the homes we visited had several chairs in them, crammed around the walls in their living areas. We questioned Nancy about this and she told us that they were for visitors and that they often held church meetings and groups in their homes. We can certainly testify that these people expect visitors. The prepare themselves to have them and they make entertaining them and being hospitable to them part of their lives. Yes I know we all love to do that but you'll see that there's a slgiht differnce to the way we entertain and the way they do it: Kenya style!
While I was talking to Nancy I realised why we had received such a warm, "princess's" welcome. I explained to her that we had never experienced anything like this and that we were actually very humbled and slightly embarrassed to be so joyfully received. "It was like you were receiving royalty," I explained.
As soon as I said it I realised why they had acted this way. "You are God's daughters," she remined me. (Of course we are daughters of the King.) "And so when we welcome you we are welcoming him into our homes and we would only give him the best!"
Of course. It all made sense. For those of you who know us well you will know that we, well I at least, are in no way a princesses (far from it) and we are still not quite sure that we deserved the hospitality we received. However, we are sure that God did and they were right: each time we entered one of their homes we prayed together, we shared together and in everything God was at the centre of it all. So thank you to all our friends in Kenya. We know you will be bountifully blessed because you blessed us so much.
Then, after eating some goat (yes we did a lot of that), we visited the church on Sunday morning. The minister (Robert) wasn't preaching that morning but Lorna and I soon made up for that. Nancy asked us to say a few words, little did she know we like to talk....and talk...and talk. Anyway everyone seemed to enjoy it and even understand our funny accents. We later learned that the reason for Robert's absence was that he is the minster for the parish. Yes, most ministers are you may be wondering what's my point. Well the point is that the parish is so full and so vast that there are actually six congregations and and they are spread over many miles. Wow can you imagine the church in Scotland having so many members and lovers of God that there aren't enough ministers to accommodate them. I can!
That Sunday afternoon we met the youth group, whom we would be sharing and teaching for the rest of the week. We absolutely adore this group of young people. We say young but in actual fact some of them were older than us (ages between 16-30). We spent the rest of the day singing, dancing and doing drama with them. That week we got to know them a lot better. Nancy kept saying you must spend time with the youth and I see why. They are so passionate about God and he is really real to them. They rely on him for everything. I could see why us spending time with them was so important for the church, the same reason that everywhere we have gone people have asked us to focus on the children and young people: they are the future of the church. They are the next generation and as Marylin Skinner recently pointed out they are the next leaders of the country.
Having taught in Scotland (although only for a baby amount of time in comparison to some) I appreciate the importance and emphasise we place on education and exam results. I know that you already understand how important it is to be educated, because you are. But what I have seen in each place I visited in Africa, including Kenya, is that yes it is important to educate children but I saw how important educating them about God is too. How much more confident these children are when they know that they have someone that loves them unconditionally and that God has a plan for their lives. We may think at home that our children don't need this hope, they have other things to distract them, computers, alcohol, fashion. Yeah these things may be satisfying...for a little while but ultimately they want something long term. Something that relates to them, someone who understands them (the way their parents and peers don't') eh... try the gospel!!! So that's a little (only a tiny part) of what we learned from the youth there, as well as how not to paint! If we're ever invited back I guarantee we will not be asked to paint the church again although we had lots of fun doing it!
The youth group then took on the monumental task of taking out my braids and before we knew it, it was time to leave Kenya. We cannot express how much we loved every second of our time there, how much we learned and how much fun we had. We laughed...and laughed...and laughed! We know that our partnership and friendship with them is just at the beginning and it will be lifelong. We pray that you too will get involved in the work of their parish. One of the many things they do in their community is pay for local children to go to school. We had the privilege of meeting some of the children (young people) whose education is paid for by the congregation and they are not necessarily children who attend the church or are even associated with it. It terrifies me to think that there are so many other children, even some of the youth we met, that can not go to school simply because their parents can't afford the fees. I know that it seems we are always asking for you to support our brothers and sisters abroad, well we are visiting them for the next year so perhaps we should get used to it, but we would not ask if we did not see that it was doing some good. Infact a huge amount of good. Giving someone food for the day is keeping them alive, giving them an education is giving them a life and a future. Please get involved. Contact World Without Walls to get in tocvh with Nancy and the J team tehy are waiting and would love to hear from you!
God Bless and much love, the Soul Touchers
Monday, October 8, 2007
Shalom
Good morning peeps! We just wanted to say a huge thank you for your continued support and encouragement to us on our mission. God has been so faithful to us every step of the way and your writing is just another testimony of how he is good to us. We are here in Israel, as many of you know.
It is almost impossible not to feel close to God here and so we are enjoying really relaxing, spending time in prayer and reading as well as visiting many of the biblical sites which dominate this country; the history and wonder of it all is breathtaking.
So we are getting ourselves ready for the next project in India. We are so insipred by all the stories we have heard (and read) about the success of the St Andrew's trip visit there and we really pray we can continue the friendship and work you guys have started. So we pray a blessing on you all this morning. Have a wonderful day!
ps We're going to visit The Pavilion prayer tower this evening where the Watoto Children's choir from Kampala, Uganda are performing. The fact they are here at the same time as us is very exciting as we saw them perform while we were there!
Lots of love n hugs Erica and Lorna: The Soul Touchers!
It is almost impossible not to feel close to God here and so we are enjoying really relaxing, spending time in prayer and reading as well as visiting many of the biblical sites which dominate this country; the history and wonder of it all is breathtaking.
So we are getting ourselves ready for the next project in India. We are so insipred by all the stories we have heard (and read) about the success of the St Andrew's trip visit there and we really pray we can continue the friendship and work you guys have started. So we pray a blessing on you all this morning. Have a wonderful day!
ps We're going to visit The Pavilion prayer tower this evening where the Watoto Children's choir from Kampala, Uganda are performing. The fact they are here at the same time as us is very exciting as we saw them perform while we were there!
Lots of love n hugs Erica and Lorna: The Soul Touchers!
Sunday, October 7, 2007
More Main Moments!
1. Classic:
While boarding the plane for Israel Lorna boasted, "Ah one country down!"
"One? I've been in four where have you been Lorna?"
"Eh isn't Africa a country?"
You gotta love it!
While boarding the plane for Israel Lorna boasted, "Ah one country down!"
"One? I've been in four where have you been Lorna?"
"Eh isn't Africa a country?"
You gotta love it!
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Baa
Good Morning everyone. It's a b e a utiful day here in Israel and I'm loving having a little more time to write to you all than we did in Africa. Seriously that place was hectic, not that we're complaining we loved every second but we apologise for not having written as much as we would have liked. Over the next two weeks here in Israel we will try our best to fill you in on the best, and not so best, bits of our trip so far. Miss Main is resting (and deservedly so) her pretty lil head right now but I thought I'd give you a lil insight into the world of Soul Touch and why the journey so far has been a constant giggle for me, living with the legend that is known as Lorna Main. On a typical day in Africa the following comments were made...try to imagine as bizarre as they may sound:
Scenario Number one:
We were both totally overwhelmed by the hospitality of our hosts in Kenya. During our short stay there we were invited to many people's homes and shared meals with them. (Seriously lots of meals, Africans can eat!) So one day we were out in the car to be shown the sights by Nancy (our host whom many of you know)
and Jamlik (another elder at the church and the sweetest man ever!). Anyway, after a morning of visiting coffee and tea plantations (that was a fab experience in itself, to see people picking tea leaves and the skill that is involved; we'll never take Tetley for granted again) we started to question Nancy as to where we were going next. The sun was going down and the thunder and lightening sounding overhead was lighting the sky.
"Nancy where are we going?" A sheepish Scottish girl, Lona Main, enquired.
"What?" Nancy boomed over the scraping noise, turning her head 180 degrees so she was no longer watching the mud track ahead of us. 'N' that noise for those of you who haven't experienced African roads is very common, it's known as the bottom of your car getting wrecked off the potholes and mountains you're forcing it to drive over.
"Where...are...we....going?" Now a louder, slower (though slightly panicky) drone came from the back seat. You know the type, when talking to someone of a different nationality we assume that by shouting at them in a bizarre, insanely loud voice they will immediately understand our weird Scottish accents. Anyway it seemed to work.
"I can't tell you," she giggled.
Ok so at this point alarm bless start ringing. "Seriously Lorna where are we going? This is mental and I need the toilet," I nagged. I need the toilet was my catch phrase for most of our time in Africa; lets just say the food there did not agree with me.
After another 2 hours driving in the same direction, heading to the middle of nowhere, Nancy left the car and opened an old rusty gate which entered a field. Excuse me I forgot, before she did this she "shoooooed" the bulls that were guarding it out of the way; they have lions and elephants in their country we learned that bulls to them are like mice to us.
"Come girls!" She beckoned.
Hesitantly, still recovering from the whiplash we had just received form the drive, we tried to dodge bulls, cows, sheep and goats and we followed Nancy and Jamlik across the field. By this time it was raining and cold (Yes stay with me we're still in Africa).
Situated in the middle of the field were four buildings...derelict! Yes nothing, noone...the place was deserted.
"Eh...excuse me Nancy. Eh...where are we? Are we visiting someone here?"
"Choose a sheep," Nancy smiled, pointing at the animals.
"Sorry? Pardon? Where...are...we?" The voice for the deaf resurrected itself again.
What happened next is still a bit vague and a bit scary but they went something like this:
Jesting towards us (we were somewhere between bulls trying to avoid the African rain which is bloomin painful) Nancy handed, or should I say, tried to hand us each a knife. I mean machete style! "Have you ever slaughtered a sheep?" Again Nancy's booming smile did not seem to fit the question she was asking.
Looking at each other now both totally bemused in unison we stuttered "Eh...no"
Then the realisation of what we were going to do hit us. I immediately screamed "slaughtered a sheep," before entering into those annoying hysterics I go into a lot when nervous or in a totally surreal situation. Looking to Lorna I was wondering how we would get out of this one. Only Lorna was not there. Suddenly a vision of pink flashed between cows. Lorna was running for the car, where she locked herself until the deed was done.
Needless to say I did not slaughter the sheep, a kind African man did that for us, but I did watch (and film for you guys back home. Yes we had to endure it so I think in the name of support you should too!) which was disturbing enough!
I hope I've managed to give you an idea of just how bizarre a day in the life of the Soul Touch girls is. And that was just the day. Oh by the way the sheep was a thanksgiving gift from Nancy's mum to thank all you peeps in Scotland for your hospitality to her while she was staying over there. Lorna and I enjoyed eating it on your behalf!
So that evening we were invited to the ministers house for some goat. After sharing a delicious meal Lorna was asked to lead us in prayer. Still recovering from the days escapades and suffering from sleep deprivation (in a week we saw the whole of Kenya) Lorna started:
"Thank you father for the meal we have shared and thank you for the hostility the people here have shown us..."
Oaft that was the end of me. Giggle, giggle, giggle! And now you know just one of the reasons I call her a legend and why, since I stepped on the plane, I have never stopped smiling!
Scenario Number one:
We were both totally overwhelmed by the hospitality of our hosts in Kenya. During our short stay there we were invited to many people's homes and shared meals with them. (Seriously lots of meals, Africans can eat!) So one day we were out in the car to be shown the sights by Nancy (our host whom many of you know)
and Jamlik (another elder at the church and the sweetest man ever!). Anyway, after a morning of visiting coffee and tea plantations (that was a fab experience in itself, to see people picking tea leaves and the skill that is involved; we'll never take Tetley for granted again) we started to question Nancy as to where we were going next. The sun was going down and the thunder and lightening sounding overhead was lighting the sky.
"Nancy where are we going?" A sheepish Scottish girl, Lona Main, enquired.
"What?" Nancy boomed over the scraping noise, turning her head 180 degrees so she was no longer watching the mud track ahead of us. 'N' that noise for those of you who haven't experienced African roads is very common, it's known as the bottom of your car getting wrecked off the potholes and mountains you're forcing it to drive over.
"Where...are...we....going?" Now a louder, slower (though slightly panicky) drone came from the back seat. You know the type, when talking to someone of a different nationality we assume that by shouting at them in a bizarre, insanely loud voice they will immediately understand our weird Scottish accents. Anyway it seemed to work.
"I can't tell you," she giggled.
Ok so at this point alarm bless start ringing. "Seriously Lorna where are we going? This is mental and I need the toilet," I nagged. I need the toilet was my catch phrase for most of our time in Africa; lets just say the food there did not agree with me.
After another 2 hours driving in the same direction, heading to the middle of nowhere, Nancy left the car and opened an old rusty gate which entered a field. Excuse me I forgot, before she did this she "shoooooed" the bulls that were guarding it out of the way; they have lions and elephants in their country we learned that bulls to them are like mice to us.
"Come girls!" She beckoned.
Hesitantly, still recovering from the whiplash we had just received form the drive, we tried to dodge bulls, cows, sheep and goats and we followed Nancy and Jamlik across the field. By this time it was raining and cold (Yes stay with me we're still in Africa).
Situated in the middle of the field were four buildings...derelict! Yes nothing, noone...the place was deserted.
"Eh...excuse me Nancy. Eh...where are we? Are we visiting someone here?"
"Choose a sheep," Nancy smiled, pointing at the animals.
"Sorry? Pardon? Where...are...we?" The voice for the deaf resurrected itself again.
What happened next is still a bit vague and a bit scary but they went something like this:
Jesting towards us (we were somewhere between bulls trying to avoid the African rain which is bloomin painful) Nancy handed, or should I say, tried to hand us each a knife. I mean machete style! "Have you ever slaughtered a sheep?" Again Nancy's booming smile did not seem to fit the question she was asking.
Looking at each other now both totally bemused in unison we stuttered "Eh...no"
Then the realisation of what we were going to do hit us. I immediately screamed "slaughtered a sheep," before entering into those annoying hysterics I go into a lot when nervous or in a totally surreal situation. Looking to Lorna I was wondering how we would get out of this one. Only Lorna was not there. Suddenly a vision of pink flashed between cows. Lorna was running for the car, where she locked herself until the deed was done.
Needless to say I did not slaughter the sheep, a kind African man did that for us, but I did watch (and film for you guys back home. Yes we had to endure it so I think in the name of support you should too!) which was disturbing enough!
I hope I've managed to give you an idea of just how bizarre a day in the life of the Soul Touch girls is. And that was just the day. Oh by the way the sheep was a thanksgiving gift from Nancy's mum to thank all you peeps in Scotland for your hospitality to her while she was staying over there. Lorna and I enjoyed eating it on your behalf!
So that evening we were invited to the ministers house for some goat. After sharing a delicious meal Lorna was asked to lead us in prayer. Still recovering from the days escapades and suffering from sleep deprivation (in a week we saw the whole of Kenya) Lorna started:
"Thank you father for the meal we have shared and thank you for the hostility the people here have shown us..."
Oaft that was the end of me. Giggle, giggle, giggle! And now you know just one of the reasons I call her a legend and why, since I stepped on the plane, I have never stopped smiling!
Monday, October 1, 2007
Shout - Outs 3L2
Good morning peeps! I just wanted to do a huge shout out to the most beautiful, smartly dressed (I hope!), hard working and generally fandabydozey tutor group in the world, class 3L2, aswell as everybody else at Wallace of course! How are you all this morning? I hope you're all bright and breezy and ready for the day of work ahead. Johnathon I hope you're drinking something healthier than fizzy juice for breakfast these days 'n' Michaela are you remembering: "NO STRIPES"?!
I miss you all and I'm sending you all my love from Israel. I have just arrived here having spent the last 3 (crazy) months in Africa. So far Lorna (my best friend and travelling buddy) and I have visited Mozambique, South Africa, Uganda and Kenya! I am loving every minute and I am storing up my stories to tell you all when I return to Scotland. So we're now in Israel, don't worry it really is not as scary as the pictures we see on the news. It's stunning! I'm here only for two weeks and then we move on to India!
So I hope you all have a wonderful day. Please work hard! The most valuable thing I learned in Africa was how blessed we are at home to have a free education. Most of the poverty there is caused because of lack of education. Sometimes, I know we take it for granted but we should try, from now on, not to! The children in Africa would kill, literally, to have an education. Some of them never attend (as in not even primary) school simply because their parents can't afford the fees. (Fees are usually about ten pounds a term. This is considered a lot of money in Africa as some people do not earn that in a year.) This results in them not being able to read or write and therefore they find it impossible to get employment and they end up in desperate, desperate circumstances: they end up living on the streets, begging and homeless. Others, who do have the opportunity to go to school, make a real effort to go. We met children who walk at least 3 or 4 miles every day to get to school. When they arrive they are crammed into classrooms which cannot accommodate them: they are simply too small for the some hundred students invading them. Yip, that's right, most classes in Africa have at least 100 pupils in each! Then they don't have pens or pencils, jotters or text books. Really it's so sad to see, especially when I think about amazing schools like Wallace where we have so much.
I know it is so hard to imagine and I'm not asking you to necessarily do anything about their situations I'm just begging you to appreciate yours. You go to an amazing school (you guys all know how much I loved being there) and you have fantastic teachers and facilities (which are gonna get even better in the new school). Make the most of them! What you do now, today, in the next fifteen minutes may determine the grades you get and the job you get for the rest of your lives! When you're bored in class today and you're distracting others remember you're depriving that person from an excellent education and what's more it's an education the children I've met in Africa would love to have! Have a brilliant day. I will be thinking about you and missing you as always!
Love Miss Bonnar x
I miss you all and I'm sending you all my love from Israel. I have just arrived here having spent the last 3 (crazy) months in Africa. So far Lorna (my best friend and travelling buddy) and I have visited Mozambique, South Africa, Uganda and Kenya! I am loving every minute and I am storing up my stories to tell you all when I return to Scotland. So we're now in Israel, don't worry it really is not as scary as the pictures we see on the news. It's stunning! I'm here only for two weeks and then we move on to India!
So I hope you all have a wonderful day. Please work hard! The most valuable thing I learned in Africa was how blessed we are at home to have a free education. Most of the poverty there is caused because of lack of education. Sometimes, I know we take it for granted but we should try, from now on, not to! The children in Africa would kill, literally, to have an education. Some of them never attend (as in not even primary) school simply because their parents can't afford the fees. (Fees are usually about ten pounds a term. This is considered a lot of money in Africa as some people do not earn that in a year.) This results in them not being able to read or write and therefore they find it impossible to get employment and they end up in desperate, desperate circumstances: they end up living on the streets, begging and homeless. Others, who do have the opportunity to go to school, make a real effort to go. We met children who walk at least 3 or 4 miles every day to get to school. When they arrive they are crammed into classrooms which cannot accommodate them: they are simply too small for the some hundred students invading them. Yip, that's right, most classes in Africa have at least 100 pupils in each! Then they don't have pens or pencils, jotters or text books. Really it's so sad to see, especially when I think about amazing schools like Wallace where we have so much.
I know it is so hard to imagine and I'm not asking you to necessarily do anything about their situations I'm just begging you to appreciate yours. You go to an amazing school (you guys all know how much I loved being there) and you have fantastic teachers and facilities (which are gonna get even better in the new school). Make the most of them! What you do now, today, in the next fifteen minutes may determine the grades you get and the job you get for the rest of your lives! When you're bored in class today and you're distracting others remember you're depriving that person from an excellent education and what's more it's an education the children I've met in Africa would love to have! Have a brilliant day. I will be thinking about you and missing you as always!
Love Miss Bonnar x
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