Return to YWAM: Kona , Hawaii

       Here we are in Kona, Hawaii!  It's New Year's Eve, and the sound of fireworks and firecrackers in the neighbourhood begins early.  Last night after we arrived I was so exhausted I didn't hear any noise past 9:00 pm.  Hope we can go to sleep soon tonight as well.
      What a weird feeling to go from the extreme cold and abundant snowfall we've experienced in Red Deer, AB, Canada, to walking around in shorts and short shirtsleeves!  Hats and sunscreen instead of double mitts and long underwear!  A different kind of culture shock.
      We were standing around last night with some people when all of a sudden a young girl catapulted herself into my arms to give me a big hug.  After 30 seconds I remembered her name:  Aline from Brazil whom we'd met last year at YWAM (Youth with a Mission), Lausanne, Switzerland.  Also Eli from Texas.  We had all worked in the kitchen together.  This is one of the blessings of this organization--you tend to meet people again in different parts of the world.  The other amazing blessing of the day was meeting someone who'd been in the same class as my brother, three years younger than I am.  On staff here, she recognized me by my maiden name on my application form. Her mum was one of my Sunday School teachers in the town on Vancouver Island, B.C., where we both grew up.   It's a small world, as they say.
      During the first few transition days Terry and I will be working in the kitchen, and after a couple of weeks, he'll be on maintenance.  I'll have a varied schedule of working on the grounds in the cool of the morning, then working in the "boutique" ( where departing students leave all the stuff they don't want ) and also at the main gate, where apparently I'll sit in an air-conditioned booth for a couple of hours and screen people who want to come onto the huge campus.  A new influx of students will be arriving in a few days, and we all begin a new adventure.  Happy New Year!

Grandchildren

Here are our grandchildren in the year 2013.
Our latest addition was Elliston Channing Burnett, born to Nick and Suzanne on July 5.This picture was taken on Matteo's birthday, two days later.

Ellis at four and a half months

Matteo is stocking up the fridge for his birthday party

  Three birthday cakes! What a lucky boy!

Zachary and I rode to Mackenzie Trails Park

Hallowe'en season at Zachary's house

Crepes for breakfast at French Camp

Emma reigns as the only grand-daughter

Grandma and Emma like to read

Caleb is now eleven

Denare Beach, SK

Kavadi

Sunday morning at the Jesus Praise Centre in Kigali, Rwanda.  Looking up as I entered the dim, small room, I noticed the decoration hanging from the ceiling.
"That's toilet paper! "  I said to myself.
"No, it's not."  It looked too sturdy around the edges.  Surely it was some kind of bunting.  I looked more closely.
"Yes it IS!"  It really was toilet paper.
As usual, we were all called up to the front and introduced, and stayed there to join in the singing and clapping. I don't remember how we could've been singing, as the songs weren't usually in English.

Then we found out a baby was to be dedicated.  So we sat down.

 A drama was being enacted.  An usher ran to lift the baby from the hard-packed dirt floor.  No, no, the mother gestured.  This was part of the story.  She apparently was explaining how she hadn't made it to the hospital, and the baby was born on the ground.  She was bringing the baby this day in thanksgiving and gratitude to the Lord. 
We were called up to the front again to pray for the baby. I quickly handed my camera to a young black man to take pictures.

We're not sure if it really was a dedication ceremony for all babies, but now there were three more mothers with their babies standing beside us.

All of a sudden I was handed this precious bundle.  Juggling the microphone in one hand, I asked the baby's name.
"Kavadi"  replied the mother.  I thought it was a girl, but now I see the ribbons on the blanket are blue.  Never mind, I think of Kavadi as a girl.  Such a tiny mite. I touched her head.  Soft hair, so soft, framed her face. It felt like a lamb's wool powder puff.  Choking up with emotion at the honour, I did my best to speak a blessing over this little lamb.  That was a new experience.

Later in the service the mother was calmly nursing Kavadi.  I wanted to see her one last time,  but after the service they had disappeared.

Jesus said,  Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them,  for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.

Signs, signs, everywhere a sign

 A poster advertising the famous visitors from Canada.

 
This is our hotel in Kigali, Rwanda.  Quite nice for $50 a night.  We shared a bathroom with Ben, and the Stalwicks had the VIP suite, all in the same private hallway, with their own bathroom.  A spacious balcony looked out over the neighbourhood, which got filled with people very early.  Terry would wave and say hi to the ladies washing clothes in their tubs, across the street.  A few days later I was startled to hear a loud "HI!" and frantic waving  from another neighbour to whom Terry had previously waved. The lovely bouquets we'd been given at the airport graced the ledge of our large bath tub.  In the evening we were allowed the use of the gas stove in the kitchen to heat water for soup for our picnic suppers, as the hotel was far from shops or restaurants.  And why was it called "Holy Apartment" ?  Apparently it was run by some Christian friends of Pastor Ephraim.

Meanwhile, visitors from a few African nations stayed right at the pastor's house.  They must've been grateful for such accommodation, as the pastors from Uganda, Burundi, Tanzania and Kenya didn't have any extra for a hotel room.  Representatives from country had their respective sleeping quarters.  Inside one of the rooms was a plain double sized bed; I don't remember seeing much bedding.  The floor was lined with backpacks and small travel bags.  The toilet in the hallway was a horror.  The seat was broken completely in half, and it didn't flush.  Sometimes there was a large jerry can of water, but it was too heavy for me to lift.  But desperation led us there all the same.

This was just one of the interesting signs visible from the Land Rover where Terry, Ben and I spent hours in the cramped back seat as we travelled back and forth from the meetings.  We would amuse ourselves taking pictures from the window.

A sign at the Kigali airport.
Really, we didn't see any plastic bags the whole time we were in Rwanda.  Groceries were given in sturdy paper bags.  Any plastic bags we had were kept hidden in our suitcases just in case they weren't biodegradable.  The country is being rebuilt from the many years of war 15 years ago.  Although there were no plastic bags, plastic bottles were so commonly seen they weren't even picked out of the dirt where the soil was being tilled  (by hand, with a hoe) for the planting of beans and corn. 

A sign at the Nairobi airport

One day in Kakamega, Kenya, Ben and I walked down the street to take pictures of a cane truck that had overturned.  Apparently we were a strange sight, as the only white people in a crowd of blacks.  "Are you walking?"  called some teenagers.  "You will spoil your legs!"  I pondered that question for awhile, thinking possibly they were referring to our shoes in that sea of mud.  These weren't the students who called out, but another group of high school students who graciously allowed me to take their picture.

The sign on the side of the school building at the Jesus Praise Centre in Kakamega.  A series of rooms was rented out during the week to a primary school; other rooms were used for Sunday School and pastors' offices.  When in Carpet Colour in Red Deer ordering our flooring this spring, we'd noticed advertising  another trip to Africa, but didn't think too much of it beyond mild interest.  Little did we know we'd soon be on our way anyway!


At the Nairobi Game Park, I was asking directions to the washroom when I was accosted by the Masai
tribesmen who wanted their picture taken, for a fee
of course.  The sign in the washroom, however, was priceless.

Terry forgot to smile

Blowing bubbles

The first afternoon our team was at the pastors' meetings in Rwanda, Ben and I found ourselves "unemployed" .  Terry had been escorted to a room of "youth", actually anyone unmarried.  Donna went off to teach a group of women. 
"Let's just blow bubbles out here in the courtyard, "  I told Ben.
"Are you OK?"  Pastor Ephraim called out.
"Yes."  I replied.  It dawned on me that there was no school in the afternoon, so we wouldn't be teaching just yet.  
 We'd seen children from the neighbourhood hanging around, peering in at the "mzungu". (white person).
Our first attempts at bubble-blowing were feeble.  Soon, however, we'd gathered a small crowd.  I took out some small bubble blowing toys I'd found at a yard sale in Canada, and we passed them around.  The most popular was a blow pipe that created a froth of bubbles as a child enthusiastically blew into it.  As it began to get chaotic, I asked Ben to gently position the children into a line, so they could take turns.  Soon we had a real system going.  I decided to just keep dipping the blow pipe, despite the runny noses.  (By then we weren't experimenting any longer ourselves!) 
Originally, I'd packed the bubble soap as a lead-in to the Bread of Life lesson, to illustrate the fragility of earthly things.  As it turned out, these were not even the same children whom we taught the next day at the primary school.  What a wonderful way to overcome the language barrier, though!  The children had fun, and we had fun watching them.  The highlight of my day!

Safari!

After a series of delays it was already too late to see lions in the Nairobi Game Park. Fifteen year-old Ben was bouncing up and down with excitement, however, as we began to spot other animals.

Hippo surfacing

Ostriches

Black on white, or white on black?

Turtle

Fascinating how giraffes sculpt the trees!

Impalas

Flat topped acacia trees

Donna strolling at a rest stop

                         

Safari van with pop-up top

Not wanting to miss anything, we munched on protein bars through the lunch hour.  Terry busied himself looking up various birds.  The driver was surprised as we kept calling, "Stop, please!", when anyone saw  a bird.  He wasn't used to stopping for birds.  I wish I had a picture of the secretary bird.  If Terry had had his camera, we would've had a great picture, but he'd run out of charge, and had forgotten his charger. A fairly large white bird with black tips on its wings, it sported a  black feathered crest like an Indian headdress turned sideways. 

The day that had begun so frustratingly turned out well after all.

Blessings in Rwanda

Five days ago our team of five people arrived in Rwanda, Africa, after a very long flight. Pastor Cliff Stalwick and his wife Donna had asked us to accompany them several months ago,and at the last minute, fifteen year old Ben joined us. We're counting our blessings! Our luggage, all ten pieces, arrived safely and was not overweight! We had stressed about this when we found out we had to take along the remaining pieces of the Kenyan pastor's luggage. Pastor Kubondo had spent the summer in Canada and had been given things to take back including an electric guitar and laptop. (hence the opportunity to use the laptop for this blog and important banking transactions.) Our hotel room is reasonable, and the bathroom is not too far down the hall... We found out no one had made arrangements for an evening meal;we were far from restaurants and even shops, so ended up buying a few supplies and having a daily picnic in the hotel consisting of instant soups brought from home, and peanut butter, jam, honey, yellow bread, cheese and eggs. Our week of ministry with the Rwandan pastor is over. Apparently the week of the Fresh Fire pastors' conference was a huge success. The visiting pastors were most appreciative, and we have invitations to help them in Uganda, Tanzania, and Burundi. Pastor Stalwick taught the pastors, Donna taught the women. Terry thought he would be playing soccer, but ended up teaching the "youth" (anyone unmarried). Ben and I went into two classrooms in the primary school. When schedules and events were rearranged, and things didn't go as expected we all had to keep flexible and remind ourselves, "This is Africa." When I get another chance, and when I can post my pictures, I'll be sharing some highlights. Off to Kenya next!

Lesson from the Peaches

The peaches Ted brought from Kelowna, B.C. were ripe.  He had lovingly wrapped each one in a square of newspaper, and arranged them in single layers so they wouldn't bruise. Before we knew it, they were ready and needed immediate attention..  It was rather ironic that I'd given Annie most of my canning jars, leaving me only a small box full.  Off to the store to buy more.

Our assembly line was soon set up, and we chose our jobs.  Terry put several  peaches at a time into a pot of  hot water to loosen their skins, and got the water boiling in the big canner.  Ted slipped the skins off the peaches, and I cut the "naked" fruit and packed it into jars, arranging the wedges neatly to show off their outer edge.  We worked in companionable silence at our respective stations. I only commented to give the guys instructions.  After so many years of not canning, I actually remembered what to do.  What was different from those days was that there was no frenzied running back and forth, trying single-handedly to coordinate each step.
When we were done, we had 5 quarts and 19 pints.  It was satisfying to hear each lid give a soft "ping" as its lid sealed.
Terry commented, " We did that faster than I expected!"  It only took two hours and with everyone helping,  was a pleasant job.  Another wonderful example of teamwork!
 I remembered another time when the children were young.  Terry was busy elsewhere, so I enlisted the help of Christopher, 13, Stephen, 10, and Nicholas 8.  For three hours the boys slipped off skins, cut up, and stuffed 29 quart sealers.  Up to that point I hadn't realized what a great source of labour I had at home.  I tended to do things myself.  It was an eye-opener, born out of desperation.  As a reward, they each got to buy a sub (submarine sandwich) from the store, which was a huge treat at the time. 

Our reward: glowing jars of peaches cooling on the table.

Now you [collectively] are Christ's body and [individually] you are members of it, each part...with his own place and function.
I Corinthians 12: 27

Precious Jewels

This is Matteo, our youngest grandchild, not counting his sibling still under construction.

He needed a cup and a child-sized plate, so I hauled out the old Bunnykins dinnerware.   His mother was worried.  "It might break!", as if I was taking some huge risk on a priceless heirloom.
"Oh well,"  I replied.
The risk was worth it, seeing him enjoy the set our children had used over thirty-five years ago.
Matteo doesn't really talk yet, but he showed his pleasure by pointing to each rabbit chasing around the rim of the plate.  
We're trying to downsize our possessions to fit a houseful of "stuff" into a smaller condo.  So far, it hasn't been too painful because not everything has been brought in.  My instructions are to be ruthless in my selection process, discarding things that we really have no use for, and even, that we haven't used for years.  This is a bit difficult for me, because I've always been a hoarder. 
It's a toss-up between real mementos and too many papers and unnecessary objects.
They are only things.  The real treasures are those that have eternal value: our family.
I thought of a children's hymn we used to sing in Sunday School:

When he cometh, when he cometh
To make up his jewels,
All his jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and his own 
      Like the stars of the morning,
      His bright crown adorning,
      They shall shine in their beauty,
      Bright gems for his crown.
Little children, little children,
Who love their Redeemer,
Are the jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and his own. 

Precious jewels win in this downsizing process.

Zion National Park

This is a back road through Zion National Park in Utah, that wound in and out of the park. At the top we were supposed to see over Kolob Canyon, where Terry hoped to spot condors.

These trees remind me of our (former) back yard.

7,900 ft in elevation!

Finally we gave up, even in four-wheel drive.  It didn't make sense to get stuck in the middle of nowhere.  Later, as we looked at the map again, we realized it wasn't even the official road to Kolob Canyon!
Inside the main entrance to the park, we parked our car and from that point rode a shuttle bus.  That was a first in a national park!  You could get off at any of the eight stops, and get on anywhere; another bus would be by a few minutes later.
This is the Court of the Patriarchs:

Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob

We got off at the last stop to walk in a narrow canyon.  The shallow Virgin River was accessible at several points.

 

This little fellow was hoping for a handout.
You weren't supposed to feed the wildlife, but the squirrels appeared to be already trained, and fearlessly approached hikers along the trail.

 We did get to drive our own vehicle for a few miles, then parked again for a hike to the Canyon Overlook.  At one point, looking at the sky through my binoculars, I spotted a large bird.  Was it the condor?  Terry isn't sure, because it was so far away.  But I like to think that we actually saw this elusive bird.


              

a tunnel is a novelty for some

                                                                     Terry wasn't aware that he was so close to a drop-off!                                                                            At the end of the day, we were glad we decided to stay
                                                                     one more day in southern Utah. The weather was great,
                                                                     comfortable enough for walking, and not too hot.
                                                                     We'll be in a snowy landscape soon enough!