more from A Mile in My Shoes

Trevor Hudson’s book is super relevant to this journey I’m on, so I’m very glad it made the last minute book pile cut on packing day.

“We cannot meet all the needs that surround us, but tragic consequences flow from our failure to recognize the suffering neighbor for who he or she really is. These consequences range from a cold indifference to the human cries around us to cynicism and even resentment toward people’s needs; a lack of engagement with those ‘principalities and powers’ that crush and oppress—to a tragic loss of our own humanness. However (and this is one of the aims of the pilgrimage experience), when we share personally with those who suffer, put names to faces, listen to life stories, receive the gifts they offer, it creates a climate in which we learn to see differently. These personal encounters help pilgrims see the suffering neighbor as a brother or sister made in the image of God and in whom Christ dwells. Such recognition and awareness generates a new way of relating that makes genuine compassion possible.” (p. 44-45)

Hudson then offers several questions to help readers consider how they view others:
· Is my seeing limited by the other person’s color, class or culture?
· Do I focus upon outward appearances in my dealings with people?
· Do I see people primarily as groups?
· Do I view others based on first impressions rather than hearing them out?
· Do I look at possessions as being more important than persons?

It’s so easy to visit another culture, especially one that has acquired the stereotypes and reputations that African cultures have, and refuse to really connect with the people you meet here, to assume that you are different from each other and that friendship isn’t possible. And it’s amazing to watch how that rather simple decision can affect one’s perception of and involvement in the lives of people in this new culture. It leads to always holding back, to always viewing your hosts as the “other” instead of connecting with them as brothers and sisters, as Hudson describes. When this happens, it’s such a loss for everyone involved as it keeps real sharing of God’s love from happening.

In American culture, at least—though perhaps the phenomenon is actually part of human nature—we rush to categorize everything because once we put it in a category we don’t have to think about it anymore and don’t have to really interact with it in order to understand it. The category defines it, and as long we understand the category we obviously understand and know all the things that have been placed in that category. But, when people are so firmly categorized, some of their humanity is stripped away. Instead of a unique individual full peaks and valleys and unendingly interesting terrain, the person is reduced to a measurable, definable entity…which, incidentally, isn’t so far different from what we do to God sometimes, too.

As Hudson says, “Constant media bombardment of human need often breeds a bland familiarity that generalizes suffering men and women into groups like the poor, the homeless, the unemployed, the elderly. Within these generalizations we lose sight of the spiritual dimensions present in each human being.” (p. 44)

May we all seek to recognize the humanity, the God-createdness, of each of the varied people we encounter today.

the july recap

I'm in the process of sending this little update letter out to folks I actually have mailing addresses for, but there are many of you for whom I only have email addresses. I think if you click on the letter you'll be able to see an enlarged version of it.

possible writing projects

I've still got lots of finalizing to do, and much may not be finalized until I arrive in-country. But, to keep you updated, here are some of the types of stories I'm in contact with folks about: African church leaders helping bring reconciliation between Kenyan tribes with violent historical differences; new wells providing clean water and strengthened community in villages; individual stories of babies at an orphanage in Nakuru, Kenya; the work of folks connecting pastors from different denominations in southern Sudan; the excitement accompanying small one-shelf libraries in fishing villages in South Africa; the Bible women providing pastoral care in the settlements around South African cities; stories from Africa University in Zimbabwe.

The further I get into this, it's been very cool to find that there's real need for the skills I'm offering folks. I don't know any writers who've done something quite like what I'm doing, so, though I've known in my head that my trip makes sense, I've not been following in known footsteps of people I'm acquainted with. Most of the folks I know who've gone on mission trips do things like build houses or schools or offer medical clinics or lead church training sessions. It's been neat to hear from folks I'm connecting with in Africa that they are excited I'm coming and they could easily keep me busy for a month or more, whereas I'm anticipating spending only a week or so with each organization in each different location. All that to say that you never know when what you're good at is what someone else needs to benefit from.

why's she talking about chinese food on her africa blog?

My post-lunch fortune cookie fortune made me smile, so I'm sharing it with you:

"A visit to a strange place will bring you renewed perspective."

Isn't it amazing how often those fortune cookie fortunes are relevant to the life of everyone who reads them? ;-) Anyway, I expect my upcoming visit to a strange-to-me place will bring at least a changed perspective and perhaps that's the same thing as a renewed perspective. :-)

I'll be glad when some more pieces of this trip are definite enough for me to pass them on to you. I'm eager to tell you more about some of the folks it's looking increasingly likely that I'll be able to team up with while I'm there. The possibilities are very cool! For now you'll just have to trust me on that one...and keep praying that all will come together in its time.

Family Ties

I talked with my Grandpa and Grandma Rice tonight and got the run-down on exactly which of my relatives are in South Africa and how they're all related to me. The downside of not having a family that lives together all in the same holler (that's Stoney Creek--the community I grew up in--talk for hollow/neighborhood in the mountains) is that you have relatives you're closely related to but have never met and whose names you don't even know.

It was fun to talk with my grandparents about my trip. I appreciate their support and shared excitement. It's been very cool the way my Africa plans have made it more of a priority for me to learn my grandpa's history. You see, my grandpa grew up in South Africa. His parents were missionaries there. He turned a year old on the ship taking his family to South Africa, and, minus a few years here and there for furloughs (during the Depression when they had to stay in the States longer than planned because they couldn't raise enough money to return), he lived in South Africa until he was 19 years old. That's when he returned to the States for college, which is where he met my grandma, but that's another story.

Tonight Grandpa said that he wishes he could climb into my suitcase and go along. It will be fun to come back and compare stories with him. It's nice that South Africa is the last stop on my itinerary, so the experiences there will be freshest when I get back State-side to catch up with folks.

Grandpa's advice to me tonight as we talked about places like Edwaleni and Izingolweni and Port Shepstone was that, as I write, I try to understand the people. He says so many of the books Americans write about Africa don't really come from an understanding of the culture. His advice is very much in line with the purpose around the writing part of this trip that I'm slowly able to articulate better and better. When I began planning this trek to Africa, it was just sort of a murky sense that was difficult to put words to.

My concern as I sign up to do some writing for various organizations working in Africa has been that I do not want to go to Africa and write stories about all the things the Americans are doing to save the Africans. I don't think those stories would be true, and I've wanted to make sure I'm not partnering with organizations that want to tell those stories and want me to help tell them. Instead, I'm very interested in telling the stories of what folks in Africa are doing. Sometimes the purpose of telling those stories will be so that we Americans and others can come alongside them with the resources we've got to support the work they're doing. There will be many different versions of what "coming alongside" will look like, but all of them are a more whole, more body-of-Christ way of understanding our relationships with each other. Just like the way I need folks to come alongside me and help me get to Africa.

I'm also hopeful that God will use me to tell the stories of folks whose stories need to be told but who have no outlets for telling their stories, in essence to give voice to the voiceless. It is humbling to think of the possibility of being another's voice, of representing that person well and truthfully. And, then, as I type that, I realize that God himself already has given me and all Christians the task and opportunity of representing Him well and truthfully. So the idea of representing others, of being their voice is nothing new.