really live from South Africa now.

Up until this point this blog has been a little bit of a misconception because really it has been livefromrochesterhillsmi. But now it's the real deal. I'm feeling spoiled in the moment because I still have access to the pearly white keys I'm used to with my mac at home.

Yup, we're here. It is... 19:04 here, on Sunday night. 1 pm your time.

Time is kind of a crazy thing, so I'm actually doing my best not to concern myself with it too much. Getting here was kind of a blur now that I look back. A: because time kept changing at our in-between destinations so a real hourly count would take some backtracking that I'm not willing to do. and B: I was in a state of half-awake-half-asleep unknowing daze that I couldn't seem to shake. My body had been awake for 40 hrs straight and wasn't really giving in to sleep. So I had a rough time, but I'm thankful because I'm pretty sure I was having the worst time of it out of all of the people in our group and it really wasn't that bad. This is my first experience with Jet Lag, so I'm doing my best to keep the side effects to a minimum. But all of the travels went exceedingly well. Planes left on time, bags got where they were meant to be, and through customs without a second glance..

Sarah took the moment to note, sometimes you can just stop and think that making it through customs with 1,000 pounds of donated medications with no back up plan as a cool little coincidence, and sometimes you can just stop and think "hey God, that was awesome- Thank you for being here with us, on this day, in this moment".

Today we did a lot of church. Went on a bumpy and exciting car ride to Empembeni to sing our praises, hear testimony, and Rev Rob's guest sermon on love. It was quite an amazing first experience to have. (Literally my first experience in Africa)

Theres a huge language and cultural barrier, and the constant battle of fighting jet lag, but I sat there and felt just as connected, if not more in my plastic lawn chair to the Zulu words as I did last Sunday in the hearty wooden pews at Genesis. And the weekend before at my dear Kensington.

The music is unreal. These people have been given a gift to sing...and I think they just might know it. Music that moves- made from no more than the voices, hands and feet that they've been given. No sound checks, no lyrical support...everyone just knows, and everyone just sings. Even me.

As Rev Rob was getting ready to go up, one of the South African girls came up to Sarah and I and said, "Excuse me, I don't mean to bother you- but would you like to teach Sunday school?" Anna piped up with a yes, so Anna and Sarah taught 10 zulu babies about Noah's Ark, while I sat in back to watch. I had a feeling that this situation had entertainment potential, and I'd have to say it was quite the jack pot.

We did the same at Grace Evangelical Church a few hours later, (minus the impromptu Sunday School) which is the Mafu's church right across the street. The only sad thing about church today was not being able to announce our medical clinics... Trying to remain flexible about the wrinkles we have not had the opportunity to smooth out, we were only able to bring the people our smiling faces today.

The afternoon demanded some down time, and then we went to the Beach. Probably not the type of Beach you're picturing... probably about twice as cool though. Mcepseni caught a crab, and let me hold it. We were digging it up, and I reached for it- but apparently I was trying to grab it by it's one huge claw, which is really not the way to attempt it. So I was to wait until he had it dug up to hold it.

Everyone is in the room behind me counting meds (one pill at a time, mind you) so the time has come to join my team. I'm sure I will be able to blog again soon.

Sala kahle.
(Stay Well)

Uphi my worship book?

I'm gonna let the words of our lovely and loving leader Sarah Roberston rock this post. Via email copy and paste.

The weather in Durban (check me, Cathy!) is in the high 70s and sunny. Yippee!!
Don't eat any salty foods for the next few days. It'll make your flying experience better.
Drink lots of water over the next few days. Same reason.
Start those malaria meds - and bring them with you.
Locate your passport right now. Don't lose it!
Locate your Bible right now. Don't lose it!!

And let's all be praying together for the following:

Safe travel, smooth border crossings, and welcoming hearts from the officials that greet us at every airport

Safety and protection as we travel around South Africa, for us and the Mafus and the team of Zulu friends that will be helping us

The blessing and chance to put on our clinics

Sufficient medicine to serve the people we will see

That unity, peace, joy and forgiveness might reign over our team in the next two weeks

Protection and support for those we are leaving behind

God's will.

the difference between here and there.

So you have something in mind. A date. An event. Something that makes you use statements like, "until then..." or "after that", or even just letting yourself be excited for it. Because eventually it will be there.

You make plans.

But more often than not, at least in my life anyway, something comes through to re-route those plans. Because things get cancelled, the money you had set aside has gone toward something else, you forgot about a detail, you didn't get the job, or he sat you down and told you he doesn't want to marry you anymore.

And then suddently when you actually arrive at that day where you are supposed to be at your metaphorical destination...you're not at all where you once thought you'd be. Sometimes it's a good thing, because where you wanted to be was really no good anyway. But sometimes it sucks.

You can think of the place you thought you'd be, and surely long for it. But whatever route was going to get you there has developed a road block... and all of your ever loving plans are out the window. You're left with dissapointment, and the only option still viable is to keep your chin up and try again another day.

But sometimes.
Every now and then.
Maybe when you were just about to give up.

You get to your destination.

Because you wanted it, you worked, you hoped and prayed...and you got there! And getting there, lets you know that this is exactly where you're supposed to be. And maybe without all of those roadblocks down other paths you might not have made it.

For all the dissapointment, and unlaid plans I've ever run to on my own path- I have, for the first time in my life, reached my destination.

I am going to South Africa on Friday.

I am going to South Africa on Friday.

I am going to South Africa on Friday.

go time, baby.

Well we're in the final stages... 6 days! My fingers so very badly want to blog about everything that's going on right now: Pack-ups, Dinners, changing people's minds about venison. But sadly they have to do homework, study, fill out paperwork from the car accident I was in yesteday (thanks for that one, Oh Evil One). So much is taking me away from the thing I want to do most.

I don't have time to breathe. But I said to someone yesterday, "I think I will breathe better in South Africa". So I focus on the sun on my face, the green trees, and needing patients I will see...and do my best to power through all the very-un-important-feeling-stuff.

The next six days will be about powering through...and I will breathe when I get there.

I pray...

I am blogging from my Blackberry right now! This either makes me incredibly cool, or a huge tool...I'll just leave it up to you to decide! But being the avid blogger that I am (my own personal blog is http://jessswanson.blogspot.com) I find this new bridge of technology very exciting. And also I apologize if there are lots of typos, it's a very tiny screen!

Anyway, I felt like a very major follow up from my last posting was due after our team met yesterday. In our very dreary and cold basement, under an afternoon thunderstorm, the team sat around a circular table "like dinner!" I exclaimed when I realized what we were doing, with one of Sarah's absolutely delicious brownies still half-masticated in my mouth. Always a lady.

Anyway, we passed around charts from last year. A huge stack from just one day of last year's work. When it got to me I said "alright God, pick me a good one!", moved my hand from the one I was going to grab and chose another. We all went around, butchered our patient's lovely Zulu names into our own unrecognizable English version of their names. We lifted them up to God, prayed for that person.

At first I contemplated saying "I can't do this" when it became my turn. I couldn't pronounce her name, and furthermore I didn't know what to say. But strength was summoned from inside, and just enough was there to get it out. She was remarkably ill, they all were. But looking at this list of symptoms, and most heartbreaking, her age- I knew I couldn't pray for her comfort or her healing in the way everyone had just done for their patient.

With shaky hands and eyes very very desperately holding back tears I just prayed for that would God would usher her to His side.

The same fate that I have happily accepted for my own life. Scares me very deeply for this woman. I've prayed that prayer a million times for myself, and through out life when death inevitably makes its way back into my life. But it's never felt like that. Never quite like that. Praying for a piece of paper. The name upon which I couldn't even read.

I will not claim that I don't cry. But I am unrelenting when it comes to sticking to my life-long identity of being the girl who slaps a smile on everything. I went through 8 years of braces, and also its a pretty handy coping mechanism. I realized yesterday that I will not be slapping a smile on this trip. These people are going to see me cry, probably a lot.

I want to meet my piece-of-paper lady. I want to pray open-handedly with her, I WANT HER TO TEACH ME HOW TO SAY HER NAME, and as the theme of this post dictates, I want to get the chance to cry with her, even better: to laugh.

She has no idea, wherever she is. But she is changing my life. From a piece of paper.