tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-283318792024-03-18T22:25:13.453-05:00Yaaye's Thawts"And coming to Him as to a living stone, rejected by men, but choice and precious in the sight of God..." (I Pet. 2.4 NASB)Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.comBlogger73125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-58622357663277582282011-02-27T18:17:00.000-05:002011-02-27T18:17:47.643-05:00Books I'm Reading<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I haven't had a lot of time for extra reading over the past year, but I have started reading several books that are fascinating. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I love history, and this book is about the Great Depression. It's called <i>The Forgotten Man: A New History of the Great Depression</i> by Amity Shlaes. It shows how both Hoover and Roosevelt mishandled the economic crises of the 1930s and probably prolonged the depression as a result. The book drops a lot of names that are unfamiliar, but it's a fascinating account of how the government expanded and tried to micromanage the Great Depression. If you don't like history, this probably is not the book for you, but it is an interesting story if you can get by all the people, lingo, and acronyms. I am learning a great deal about cities and towns I have visited or known about, places like Yellow Springs, OH (near Cedarville) and Greenbelt, MD (within walking distance from us), which had various roles to play in the government's schemes to lift the country out of the Depression. I am also learning more about the alphabet soup of government agencies like the WPA, the PWA, the TVA, and the RA, which were set up during the Great Depression. </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hFVtcWGDox-UHMeLF42ENL5nfXwH4j3GHpFLAw6u2d4svC0o9Us0FISkxKX4kIs3lYZQysnPkteoEXgeHBW15-he9z8cKFUKBagqEqrX9WS7MD1W4L1XgOU2UFNDOvSDtRPGog/s1600/51f8lDGSbJL._BO2%252C204%252C203%252C200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click%252CTopRight%252C35%252C-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hFVtcWGDox-UHMeLF42ENL5nfXwH4j3GHpFLAw6u2d4svC0o9Us0FISkxKX4kIs3lYZQysnPkteoEXgeHBW15-he9z8cKFUKBagqEqrX9WS7MD1W4L1XgOU2UFNDOvSDtRPGog/s1600/51f8lDGSbJL._BO2%252C204%252C203%252C200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click%252CTopRight%252C35%252C-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Another book I've just started is <i>The Lost History of Christianity: The Thousand-Year Golden Age of the Church in the Middle East, Africa</i></span>, <i><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and Asia -- and How It Died</span></i><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> by Philip Jenkins. This is historical account of the churches of the east and the south until the time of the Crusades. Jenkins claims that most Christians lived in Africa and Asia (not Europe) until 1200 A.D. This book documents the histories of what is often called the 'Nestorian' Church (which took the gospel all the way to China</span>) <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and the churches of Nubia and Ethiopia, among other places. Most of us have never heard of these churches (with the possible exception of Ethiopia), and many believe the church was extinguished by the waves of conquering Muslims that swept across North African and Asia in the eighth century. We often assume church history concerns the church in Europe and North America and have forgotten the history of these other churches. This book will provide a corrective to that narrow perspective.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I've read sections of Alan Hirsch's book <i>The Forgotten Ways: Reactivating the Missional Church</i> for my doctoral studies, and it has piqued my interest. I want to read more, so I downloaded it onto my Kindle. As the title suggests, it's about the missional church, a phrase that has been cropping up more and more in discussions about mission in the past decade. I am teaching an introductory course on missions at the moment, and the subject of the missional church keeps arising. I want to know more about what it means.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Another book that fascinates me is <i>Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes: Cultural Studies in the Gospel</i> by Kenneth Bailey. We Westerners often miss so much in the Bible because our culture is so different from the cultures of Bible times. Many cultures of the Middle East, Asia, and Africa are a lot closer to the cultures of Bible times, and these modern cultures can give us beautiful insights into the Bible cultures. That is what this book is about. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A final book I'm working on is <i>Serving with Eyes Wide Open: Doing Short-Term Missions with Cultural Intelligence</i> by David A. Livermore. As a person who wants to encourage intelligent short-term missions and also mentor people in short-term experiences, this seems like a fairly balanced work, neither too preachy nor too negative about short-term missions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">That's what I'm currently reading. A lot of my reading is tied to either my studies or my teaching. I don't have a lot of time to break out of that mold. </span>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-73479540906546805692010-12-31T21:17:00.001-05:002010-12-31T21:24:19.970-05:00The Proposal<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I wanted to get in one last blog post for this year, so here it is. This one concerns my studies.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I'm working toward a deadline next May. At that point I have to submit my doctoral proposal to the University of Wales for approval. Before that, however, my proposal has to be approved by the Oxford Centre for Mission Studies (OCMS). Sound confusing? The UK system is different from the US, and it may be that OCMS is unique in the UK. Here is how I understand the process.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I am not yet admitted to a doctoral program. As I understand it, everyone in the UK has to go through probationary stages in order to get into a doctoral program. My program may be more complicated than most. First, in the UK, there are educational institutions which are not authorized to grant degrees but which are affiliated and accredited by universities which do grant degrees. That is the case for OCMS. While it is a top-notch Christian educational institution, it is not authorized to grant degrees. It isn't even affiliated with Oxford University, although we are allowed to use the Oxford University library. Instead, it is accredited with the University of Wales, and it is that university which grants the final degree.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Now, while I am enrolled in the program at OCMS, I am not yet registered at the University of Wales. To do that I have to submit a 2,500-word research proposal (that's not a lot of words, by the way) accompanied by a 5,000-word essay and an extensive bibliography (That's not long, either when you consider that the final dissertation will be 80,000-100,000 words long). The deadline for submission is in May. Before that, however, OCMS has to also approve the proposal. The OCMS committee will meet in March to approve dissertation proposals. So, I have to have all my work done by the end of February. My OCMS advisor, however, wants to see a workable proposal by the end of January. Yikes, that's one month away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I have completed a first draft of both the proposal and the essay and sent them to my adviser. While the research proposal seems to be mostly okay, I have some extensive revisions to make on the essay. If you want to know more about the proposal or essay, write me. I'm not going to reveal the title on the Internet because I want to be careful what I say and where, but if you want to know more, let me know. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Once OCMS approves the proposal in March it will be sent to the University for approval in May. From that point I will be registered at the University of Wales, but I will only be at a master's level. It's kind of probationary period to see if you can cut it at the doctoral level. After two years of research and writing, I will be reevaluated, and then I will apply for an upgrade to a doctoral level. Up until then I can make adjustments to my proposal and my research. After I get upgraded to the doctoral level, the real fun begins as I work on my dissertation in earnest. I expect it will take about three years to finish my studies after the upgrade to the doctoral level. Remember I'm only working on it 'half-time'. That will make it around 2016 before I finish! 'And miles to go before I sleep....' </span>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-27063104068274210792010-12-05T21:46:00.000-05:002010-12-05T21:46:48.533-05:00Thanksgiving Day Traditions<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Thanksgiving has always been the holiday that my family got together, even more so than Christmas. Ever since I went away to college, my parents have lived in Manchester, CT, and we have gathered there for a family reunion and meal on Thanksgiving Day. This was the first Thanksgiving that my dad was not with us, and it hit me harder than I thought it would. But, for the first time, we also had two special guests, Kelly Hammond (Daniel's girlfriend) and Theophilus Hines (Suzanne's boyfriend). It was great to be together as a family and make some memories. Here are photos of Suzanne and Theophilus:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">and Daniel and Kelly:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">One of the traditions on Thanksgiving Day in Manchester is the Road Race. It has been held on Thanksgiving for the past 74 years (the second oldest race in New England next to the Boston Marathon). It's not a long race (just 4.78 miles), but it's one of the most fun races I've ever run. I didn't run in it this year (although I have run it in the past), but it's always a great community and social event, bringing people closer together. Some of the top runners in the world compete, and there are so many who want to run, they have had to limit the number of runners to 15,000! In past years, my brother twice came in 11th in the race. Here are some of the leaders near the beginning of the race.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Many people run in costumes, and there is a contest to see who is wearing the best costume. This year there were some dazzling costumes. Of course, there were the many who ran in turkey costumes. One person ran as a Christmas tree. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Three young men jogged by dressed only in Speedos painted from head to toe in red, white, and blue and carrying an American flag. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Another family ran by dressed as Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">What makes the race great, though, is not just the runners, but the spectators. Rain, sun, or snow, there are at least as many spectators as there are runners, and they line up along the entire route. This year there were around 20,000 spectators, including us. They are there cheering on the runners. I have never been in a race like that where so many people are cheering me on. The following two pictures give you a small glimpse of the thousands of cheering spectators, some on roofs of buildings:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It makes me think of the cloud of witnesses cheering us on as we run our race. Dad is now part of that crowd of spectators. He's run his race and finished the course. Now he's up there cheering us on, cheering me on, as I struggle up 'Heartbreak Hill' and stumble down the other side. He will be there as I approach the finish line waiting to greet me as I finish my race. Most important, Christ will be there to give me my prize.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The Thanksgiving Day Road Race has a special place in my heart. Some of my extended family members ran the race this year. A Moroccan man won it. I can't remember his name. It doesn't really matter. It was enough to be there again and take in the spectacle. Take a look at the runners coming in to the finish down Main Street, though.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Even though I was only a spectator this year, cheering others on, I'm still in the race of life, and I push on toward the goal for the prize. Bravo! Keep up the pace. Let's keep our eyes on the goal and on Jesus.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR9KCkuHoPtLZeOLPyCKISXpJ3do53-sDHcs0TBazp9xfHhmH4vMmIFjfElnSpFZaXZcHi8FTHR8LF7iul0KpYqAaSWkqVn33DinK6G8im4IsJn4ULSO6FVpAA7jxi-eKwNuX8ow/s1600/DSCN2874.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR9KCkuHoPtLZeOLPyCKISXpJ3do53-sDHcs0TBazp9xfHhmH4vMmIFjfElnSpFZaXZcHi8FTHR8LF7iul0KpYqAaSWkqVn33DinK6G8im4IsJn4ULSO6FVpAA7jxi-eKwNuX8ow/s320/DSCN2874.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-76238320035796216242010-10-31T18:55:00.000-05:002010-10-31T18:55:03.256-05:00Libraries<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">As part of my research, I'm getting to know two of the world's most famous libraries, the Bodleian in Oxford, England and the Library of Congress in Washington, DC. I have consulted resources in both of these libraries and have reader's cards for both of them. I will continue to get to know both of them better in the weeks and years ahead.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The Bodleian is the main library for the University of Oxford. It was founded in 1602 and today holds over 9 million items in its collection. There are three main buildings for the Central Bodleian, but there are lots of smaller libraries associated with the different colleges of the University of Oxford, and they all cooperate with the Bodleian. Here is a photo of the most interesting architectural building of the Bodleian, the Radcliffe Camera:</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFizy6FPLwLwHyUyxgnxJxrQBuGMC_LVDG1a6LXe-npc7rwTXs56LS3rFAnyccgrRxaIKC4rqrjrRe_GkbdhyphenhyphenaOlu__pXQ1AalbwD91vU0B8u7EJwShDLY1zSjAqcDddjRCpQmsw/s1600/038+Radcliffe+Camera+Bodleian.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFizy6FPLwLwHyUyxgnxJxrQBuGMC_LVDG1a6LXe-npc7rwTXs56LS3rFAnyccgrRxaIKC4rqrjrRe_GkbdhyphenhyphenaOlu__pXQ1AalbwD91vU0B8u7EJwShDLY1zSjAqcDddjRCpQmsw/s320/038+Radcliffe+Camera+Bodleian.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The Library of Congress was founded in 1800, nearly 200 years after the Bodleian, but it contains the largest collection of any library in the world: over 144 million items, including 32+ million books and 62+ million manuscripts. There are three massive buildings located right across the street from the Capitol Building in Washington, DC. Each building is named after one of the three US presidents that followed George Washington: Adams, Jefferson, and Madison. On display in the Jefferson building is one of only three extent original copies of the Gutenburg Bible, one of the first books ever printed (in the 1400s). Here is a picture of the Jefferson Building with me in front of it:</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxmk0jBVqmHwa_Iyjpy4Vm2xn-NAql2ouKP5OHXdY1QmE0Tdvbs4RMOS-owj2Hpri6gwubKrN9GhdOljqqx_XM84XS15wA4brY1hiPCBMmksHrdRVdVvsMdHlUAZUiLxB3RkILA/s1600/DSCN0202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxmk0jBVqmHwa_Iyjpy4Vm2xn-NAql2ouKP5OHXdY1QmE0Tdvbs4RMOS-owj2Hpri6gwubKrN9GhdOljqqx_XM84XS15wA4brY1hiPCBMmksHrdRVdVvsMdHlUAZUiLxB3RkILA/s320/DSCN0202.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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Both the Bodleian and the LOC are copyright depository libraries. That means that they have a copy of every item published in the country in which they were established. So the Bodleian has a copy of every item published in the UK and the LOC has a copy of everything published in the US. </span>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-53866747729924115362010-09-09T09:45:00.003-05:002010-09-09T09:57:59.080-05:00Mr Jones, Tear Up Your Plans<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The planned Qur'an burning on the 9th anniversary of 9/11 by the Dove World Outreach Center in Gainesville, Florida is making headlines this morning. While I don't understand the motives and plans of this church, and I am concerned about the threat of government interference in free speech issues, I want to voice my firm opposition to the plan. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I am a conservative evangelical Christian who has worked amongst Muslims and has lived in Muslim countries for many years. I have read a translation of the Qur'an (in English and French) and respect the many people who sincerely and faithfully follow a faith that has many parallels to my own. I have many Muslim friends, and even though I don't share their faith, I have learned a lot from them. I disagree with many aspects of Islam, but I see many who live with integrity.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">In any case, this is not a way to go about winning an argument with Islam. It is, instead, pouring fuel on an already hot fire. It is inflaming passions in a world that is already a tinderbox. Mr. Jones says he and his church are trying to highlight the evils of Islam and stand up for something. I do not believe that this will help anyone. I do believe it will cause harm and damage to the cause of Christ. I believe these kinds of actions are motivated more by fear and ignorance than by love and knowledge. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">One unintended byproduct of this book burning will be the blackening of the reputation of Christians all over the world. Whether you like it or not, many Muslims paint Christians with one brush, and even though many know that you are just one individual, one church, they will inevitably associate all Christians with you and your actions. This will bring disdain on Christians and on the church around the world. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The leaders of the US are expressing their concern for US troops if this burning goes ahead. While it is impossible to say what could happen, and I am concerned for the troops, I am more concerned about Christians around the world living in Muslim-majority areas. What is going to happen to believers in places like Iran, Nigerian, and Indonesia on Sept 11 and the days following? Will believers be killed and more churches burned? Tensions are already high in some of these countries. If any are martyred for their faith, their blood will be on your head, Mr. Jones. And do you realize that this burning comes on the heels of the great religious festival of Ramadan? Muslims are often more spiritually aware and sensitive during this time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">No matter how you look at it, burning anything these days, whether flags, books, or buildings, is seen as an act of violence, of hate, of anger, even of racism and prejudice. Now that this has gone public with all the world watching, that is how it will inevitably be seen. You say you love Muslims, Mr. Jones. Prove it. How do you love them? How will you show that love? This act will be interpreted no other way than as hate. Where is the love your faith requires?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Even worse, I am concerned that the name of our God will be profaned amongst the nations as the result of the actions of the Dove World Outreach. You do not need to defend God's honor, Mr. Jones. He is fully capable of doing that Himself. And if you read your Bible, you will know that He is fully aware of the world situation and is Himself in control of it. He will have His way in this world. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">While Jesus vigorously challenged the religious authorities of his day and was very angry with them, he was an insider to the culture. He knew their thinking in and out. He was one of them. Mr Jones, you know nothing about Islam. How can you challenge what you do not know or understand? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">For the sake of His name, I plead with you, Mr. Jones, tear up your plans.</span>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-68386475691180524202010-08-15T15:43:00.000-05:002010-08-15T15:43:02.150-05:00The Lake<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">There was a place in my childhood my family often visited and which sticks in my memory as one of those timeless places, a place where I loved to go and relax in my busy life. I have been there only four times in my adult life, but the place always communicates to me serenity and peace, one of God's special places where I could lay down my burdens and the cares of the world for a while. We affectionately referred to that place as 'the Lake' with no qualifier needed to further identify it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Actually, it is a piece of property on Summit Lake, about eight miles west of Olympia, WA. My grandparents (on my mom's side) bought the property shortly after I was born. It was a place where the family (my mom and her four sisters and all their families) often gathered for picnics, a swim, a day of rest, or just to hang out together. Here I am on the dock at the lake when I was two.</span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY9NG7Ykdx24KdPp9duAKeFr2LaG4f83eo1XQtgbeUyf-62zQIkbhAkFieTMG0l7LbjSJH80qaJkrgUmpN1fVTpmg7-ndrxpPHT6F_q6kgMRnLTSCQt_52rqLzNtU7FEh-4D1JOw/s1600/John+on+dock+%2761+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY9NG7Ykdx24KdPp9duAKeFr2LaG4f83eo1XQtgbeUyf-62zQIkbhAkFieTMG0l7LbjSJH80qaJkrgUmpN1fVTpmg7-ndrxpPHT6F_q6kgMRnLTSCQt_52rqLzNtU7FEh-4D1JOw/s320/John+on+dock+%2761+-+Copy.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Over the years the place has changed, and the other properties on the lake have become more built up, but it remains a place of serenity and peace. Here's a photo of my family in 1968 at the back of the cabin. I'm the oldest boy in the picture. You can see the lake through the window in the background.</span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8r8kvg9m_lNQQTZu5XJXCpRET49mw8FwYyGGEUpL6q4yBRzFUQIxwgq8g27prWRZAjZHkr9znCr9nctLpoA4f6R8yqUH32vTv-RzFffujH2bBO3TH3EULp73K8ewncaL8oSFikQ/s1600/DeValves+at+Summit+Lake+%2768+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8r8kvg9m_lNQQTZu5XJXCpRET49mw8FwYyGGEUpL6q4yBRzFUQIxwgq8g27prWRZAjZHkr9znCr9nctLpoA4f6R8yqUH32vTv-RzFffujH2bBO3TH3EULp73K8ewncaL8oSFikQ/s320/DeValves+at+Summit+Lake+%2768+-+Copy.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Here's another photo from when I visited as an adult, in 1984, just before I went to Niger. This was a morning shot, and you can see how calm the water is.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGcmue_ZXpLrm_r60q-JE4L1qTnzki6RqUAbTWgQM8Dh5B4m9C7sggg-XF75ApgLQkcgmbo6G57xt6C15ijrWwB7rfb74kmAtVdasNN8r5InKmm1zSr8zCekEswC_aEIhUzJOEeA/s1600/Washington+1984+Summit+Lake+2+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGcmue_ZXpLrm_r60q-JE4L1qTnzki6RqUAbTWgQM8Dh5B4m9C7sggg-XF75ApgLQkcgmbo6G57xt6C15ijrWwB7rfb74kmAtVdasNN8r5InKmm1zSr8zCekEswC_aEIhUzJOEeA/s320/Washington+1984+Summit+Lake+2+-+Copy.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">When my grandparents died, my aunt and uncle bought the place and built onto the back of the old red cabin, putting a second story on the addition. They added heat and a few other amenities that we didn't have in the old days, and now live there permanently. Today the lake looks like this from the renovated cabin. Note the houses on the other side of the lake.</span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibexkSYJQqBXZsd_6HeMb1LuohQH7QKT6XnfKdqk1QCd7LBViu567l-2I8vXV1HESJWgt-YYwIDhKr-fZD3lETsQzAKy7UgwczIn2raj-nB0mrmjwwjupRDu-PDb7i1hKhFPdj4Q/s1600/Aug+1+018+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibexkSYJQqBXZsd_6HeMb1LuohQH7QKT6XnfKdqk1QCd7LBViu567l-2I8vXV1HESJWgt-YYwIDhKr-fZD3lETsQzAKy7UgwczIn2raj-nB0mrmjwwjupRDu-PDb7i1hKhFPdj4Q/s320/Aug+1+018+-+Copy.JPG" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And here is what the cabin looks like today from the dock.</span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOzDUA6EAKPFio8Kvm-VyHb7Vr1tEfAO8aNdZ59w7cehLk6d1DlMuncebJgShTtcydehEW2jn3HBP_771zOYbcVYs8NSnNKIWHv0OMdLxvIIM2wDPymzVLnO9drbcW8sAuxgVuA/s1600/Aug+2+07+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOzDUA6EAKPFio8Kvm-VyHb7Vr1tEfAO8aNdZ59w7cehLk6d1DlMuncebJgShTtcydehEW2jn3HBP_771zOYbcVYs8NSnNKIWHv0OMdLxvIIM2wDPymzVLnO9drbcW8sAuxgVuA/s320/Aug+2+07+-+Copy.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Just over a week ago, I had another chance to visit 'the Lake.' We went to Washington state to visit family, friends, and supporters, and speak at a church (Lake City Community Church). Since my mom was born and raised there, we took her along, since she can no longer travel by herself. We had the chance to spend six days at the lake with my aunt and uncle and enjoy the peace and quiet. We also attended a family reunion at the Lake on Sat, Aug 7. It was the annual Keller family picnic at the lake. About 50 relatives showed up from all different branches of the family, and though it was cloudy, cool, and showery, we all had a great time catching up on each other's lives. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sadly, this may be the last time I will see the lake. My aunt and uncle aren't sure they can live there much longer. They themselves may not live much longer, and since it could be a while before we get out there, I may not see them again this side of heaven. That goes for the other aunts and uncles. And it may be the last time this side of heaven that my mom will get to see the lake and her earthly home.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">When I think of my mansion in heaven, I want it to be the lake. I'm looking forward to seeing all my family there one day.<br />
</span></span>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-57486969569444344362010-07-18T14:34:00.000-05:002010-07-18T14:34:10.757-05:00A Memorial to My Dad<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Today I'm posting on my blog twice. This one is a memorial to my dad.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">You are probably aware that my dad was cremated after his death in January of this year. This is not something most Latinos, Catholics, or Muslims do very much, but it is very common in Europe where land is at a premium and many cemeteries are full. It is becoming more common in the US although I'm not sure it is the most common form of burial yet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Anyway, it was dad's wish to be cremated. He was more concerned about cost and not burdening his family with the excessive funeral expenses that our government requires than anything else.</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But he may well have had environmental and space concerns on his mind. There is no plot in a cemetery and no stone to remember him by. These aren't important. His body will one day rise again, anyway, whatever form of decay or deterioration it is in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Dad's ashes were buried behind the church in Manchester, CT, where he had long served as pastor of missions and mentoring and as part of the care team. There is a playground back there and a nice little tree. The day after the memorial service we put his ashes in a hole next to the tree. It was a windy, cold, bright day, but it wasn't very pretty in the middle of winter. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Mom had the bright idea of erecting a memorial to dad over the site of his burial. But this is no gravestone. It is a bench. And it is really comfortable. Inscribed on the bacak of the bench is Psalm 23.6: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">'Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.'</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9O2NUYowrESUOnPJ46xmW5iehJAiyvq1HQWAd3ZhOCgVFTB3sWCdDO5FzsYHFZKbkBvXqnWxeUTlVZOqdt3ftjBINY0AXy4D5aPImDQhGdxyor8RzETwa2CCcrg6Y6wGUR4w_hw/s1600/P7080009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9O2NUYowrESUOnPJ46xmW5iehJAiyvq1HQWAd3ZhOCgVFTB3sWCdDO5FzsYHFZKbkBvXqnWxeUTlVZOqdt3ftjBINY0AXy4D5aPImDQhGdxyor8RzETwa2CCcrg6Y6wGUR4w_hw/s320/P7080009.JPG" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">There is no inscription on the bench marking it as the place of dad's burial. We want people to move beyond dad and remember the God he served. We want this to be a place of rest and reflection, a place where people can stop for a minute and think about God's goodness and mercy. Here are some of the family members around the bench.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Vbdbu_Ks1H95ujsJV3jNEhoP7FcAiONDVaEzvHpwJCCLmSChfwLL3piwVwIy7cwKwAtbBLs0326ivZZZ4G9sjSx95WwhamcpsCVQ16dfS0fT6z731_9HMyARjFYmbwApDMs1fQ/s1600/P7080048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Vbdbu_Ks1H95ujsJV3jNEhoP7FcAiONDVaEzvHpwJCCLmSChfwLL3piwVwIy7cwKwAtbBLs0326ivZZZ4G9sjSx95WwhamcpsCVQ16dfS0fT6z731_9HMyARjFYmbwApDMs1fQ/s320/P7080048.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We dedicated the bench with a few friends, family, and church staff on Thursday evening, July 8, on a beautiful, sunny day. The trees spread their branches over the bench and gave it shade. The scenery is lush and beautiful. May all who pass this way find God and find rest in Him. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfSt__6X-MhpjDLrdU5mBPj-MQN1rM-AtUjotTv8CymboXnDOXajTarAAvnPz2scoyOGy_5budc7Tv2IkB849pusxdepFS9ycBITm5F3mSl9d0_ZHY_8SKT5UfpZ9jKkY4OeK8sA/s1600/P7080038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfSt__6X-MhpjDLrdU5mBPj-MQN1rM-AtUjotTv8CymboXnDOXajTarAAvnPz2scoyOGy_5budc7Tv2IkB849pusxdepFS9ycBITm5F3mSl9d0_ZHY_8SKT5UfpZ9jKkY4OeK8sA/s320/P7080038.JPG" /></a></div>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-60840075295304374282010-07-18T14:13:00.000-05:002010-07-18T14:13:05.343-05:00A Day Off<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">In our busy lives, it's often hard to squeeze in a vacation or even find a day off. That's why it's nice when our friend Mark offers to take us sailing on Long Island Sound, off the coast of Connecticut. We get a real day off. Last week we managed to squeeze a day in between a dedication of a memorial bench for my dad (July 8) and a family wedding (July 10) to get down to the sound to catch some wind and some waves. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimfWl4s9vzKJy7suU5rlRJrDjY3ioZIwuuILFj_wCH9YYKMv2Btun-yNOfxrvzr6WAdTdZz0eQx31teahfcePMAPIVA5ctQGP_n84Omi72CPO5mZSlnrkKIxRubd4N2tx4F1YhYw/s1600/P7080005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimfWl4s9vzKJy7suU5rlRJrDjY3ioZIwuuILFj_wCH9YYKMv2Btun-yNOfxrvzr6WAdTdZz0eQx31teahfcePMAPIVA5ctQGP_n84Omi72CPO5mZSlnrkKIxRubd4N2tx4F1YhYw/s320/P7080005.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Mark's boat isn't large like some huge yachts we saw, but it was so nice to get away from the pressure and difficulties of life and simply relax. The day was warm and sunny, so even though the breeze wasn't strong, we managed to get in some real sailing. I like to hold the tiller and steer the boat, but I'm not an expert sailor, just a green first mate.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid04t2FoLNNx7wHT-OTcncuh-hm92FYesucRUFyU-w3c_F47G0DBGh1zKq_PZyPSSDKlNOnbbH-wB6UCg2rgiOcbkaXL1L4MRJ5GgDFC1LDy3t5q-wSoI9VNr-rYDpx2GrrK1H1Q/s1600/P7090022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid04t2FoLNNx7wHT-OTcncuh-hm92FYesucRUFyU-w3c_F47G0DBGh1zKq_PZyPSSDKlNOnbbH-wB6UCg2rgiOcbkaXL1L4MRJ5GgDFC1LDy3t5q-wSoI9VNr-rYDpx2GrrK1H1Q/s320/P7090022.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Unfortunately, Daniel and Suzanne couldn't be with us this time as they had work. We missed them, but we got to see something we had not seen on previous trips: seals basking on Fisher's Island just across the inlet from Mystic. This may be the best-kept secret on Long Island Sound. Normally, they swim north by this time of year, but there they were.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUAtUdG25VHavERjeBQyCR9m_OSpbsi9-JWuJIoRpUpUBlKt1nvMUvEJ8uV7EmtwqJ0qk4JgDga5DRbHZcKlFlN12a1_AVBghHX02ar0aLy443_O6oqcNbvaY1-dn2PAKRUgVOeg/s1600/P7090018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUAtUdG25VHavERjeBQyCR9m_OSpbsi9-JWuJIoRpUpUBlKt1nvMUvEJ8uV7EmtwqJ0qk4JgDga5DRbHZcKlFlN12a1_AVBghHX02ar0aLy443_O6oqcNbvaY1-dn2PAKRUgVOeg/s320/P7090018.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Another highlight was rounding the small rocky outcrop with a pretty lighthouse. The lighthouse used to be inhabited, but now it is automated and emits a rather jarring 'ping'...'ping' every few minutes to warn ships away.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByG-MzqzgswL1qa5jYdh4631BwKADjFmSLr8MG2g8Ovkp7oU3b3VKCZkFu_CCWszNWdL1NQZV29l207BB9NnVsD33B2wc2StAre2MeNkRNoOxqws_F4XZ8NTB2bEKd7nNJYHVnQ/s1600/P7090024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByG-MzqzgswL1qa5jYdh4631BwKADjFmSLr8MG2g8Ovkp7oU3b3VKCZkFu_CCWszNWdL1NQZV29l207BB9NnVsD33B2wc2StAre2MeNkRNoOxqws_F4XZ8NTB2bEKd7nNJYHVnQ/s320/P7090024.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">All in all, it was a good day. Thanks, Mark.</span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-59726178285688104282010-07-04T17:46:00.000-05:002010-07-04T17:46:27.683-05:00Back Home<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I'm back in the US after 11 long weeks in England. My time there was good, and I got a great head start on my studies. There are definitely some things I did not like about England (sorry to all my English friends):</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">1. It was cold. Temperatures never got up to 30 C (86 F) and most days it didn't even get to 21 C (70 F). Temperatures below 70 F are against my body's religion. I don't know how the Enlgish can live. It's not just the outside temperature, either. It's the temperature <u>inside</u>. There isn't much heat in homes! And people like to have a window open when it's 10 C (50 F outside). I kept closing windows! Almost never in my time did I wear less than three layers inside or out. Many times I wore five layers with gloves and a hat--even inside.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">2. Many days were raw and rainy. I guess that's what you get when you live on an island in the far north. I'll have to admit that the beautiful days made up for it. England is a beautiful country (the silver lining from the cloudy days).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">3. While I like bright sunshine while it is day, I'm like it dark at night and don't sleep well if there's too much light. Of course, with the sun rising at 4 a.m. and setting at 10 p.m., this doesn't leave much room for night.</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">When it gets light, my body wakes up. Needless to say, I didn't get enough sleep. In addition, there was a bright streetlight outside our room, and we didn't have any curtains or shades to block it out. It really bothered me. I finally resorted to wearing those masks they give you on the plane to block out light. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">4. Things seem much smaller and more crowded. In a store, the shelves don't have enough room between them for two people to pass each other. Houses are much closer together and rooms smaller. It's hard to pass people on narrow sidewalks. So many people and bicycles crowd the paths in the countryside that it's hard to get in a decent run. I know that England is much more densely populated than the US and I did get to see some country. But I like wide open spaces like we have in many places in the US and in Africa.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">5. I didn't know many people in England, and it was very lonely. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Lest you think that I really hated England, let me hasten to say that it wasn't all bad. Here are some things I really like:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">1. I already mentioned that it's a beautiful country. The green countryside is almost unmatched.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">2. I got to roam in the meadows with cows and horses. I felt like I was back in Africa.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">3. The history was amazing. I couldn't believe I was walking amongst 500-year-old buildings.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">4. We got to see some old friends, one of whom lives in Oxford.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">5. We found a nice church in which we felt welcome. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">6. I got to do some new things I had never done before (punting; visiting Oxford University; walking in the footsteps of such great men as William Carey, John Bunyan, William Cowper, and John Newton; reading in the Bodleaian). I love adventures.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Still, there's no place like home, wherever that is. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I'll be starting a new adventure in a month. It seems like I'm starting a new adventure every month. </span>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-12772517929486057272010-05-30T09:48:00.000-05:002010-05-30T09:48:10.807-05:00What About THE Question?<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I don't intend to make this a long post. But I wanted to give an update on my studies and keep something posted on my blog for people to read. It's been a long, lonely month as I try to put in some solid studying and get a good head start on my research. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">(I hope it will be over 250 hours of quality work for the last six weeks I've been in Oxford--I'm at 234 hours now.)</span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> I'm also anxious to get back to the US (June 8) and get back to a new normal, whatever that is.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So where am I with the question? After lots of thought and discussion with my mentor and others, I realized that I can't really get into the issue of contextualizing worship music in the Songhai church until I understand much better what is going on in the Songhai culture and church with music. So, my main question has to deal with the background issue: Why is there so little indigenous worship music in the Songhai church? There will be two subquestions connected to the main question. First, what are the social and cultural hindrances to the development of an indigenous Songhai hymnody? And, second, how have western and other African concepts of music helped to shape the current form and style of worship music in the Songhai church? Simple questions, but not so easy to answer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So, where do I go from here? During the next year, I'll be missionary-in-residence at Washington Bible College in Lanham, MD. I'll be working part-time, teaching a few courses and encouraging the missions-related groups on campus. I'll also be studying part-time. Between now and May 2011, I need to register with the University of Wales. I am only currently enrolled at the Oxford Centre for Mission Studies, OCMS does not grant degrees. To enroll at the University of Wales, I have to submit a detailed research proposal of 2500 words with an accompanying essay and bibliography. So, for the next year I need to do a lot of background reading, especially about the Songhai, ethnomusicology, and a biblical theology of worship. Then I need to submit several drafts of my proposal in order for it to be finally approved next May. But that is just the beginning of my research. The main research with my primary sources, the Songhai people themselves, will not commence until I get back to Niger in the summer of 2011. That will be stage 4. The first stage, preparation, is done. The second stage, induction is also past. And the third stage, working on submitting a proposal is now at hand.</span>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-82983960417968241402010-05-09T11:02:00.000-05:002010-05-09T11:02:34.250-05:00Responsible Envirnonmentalism<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'll probably alienate almost everyone with this blog, but I have to say my piece. Let's start off with one caveat: I am not an extreme tree-hugging environmentalist who wants to save the whales but cares little for the babies. At the same time, I believe global warming (or is it more politically correct now to say climate change?) is real and something that needs to be addressed. I'm skeptical about what is touted as causing climate change (is it mostly caused by people?) and if it's really significant in terms of the history of the world, so I don't advocate huge costly programs to bring the world temperatures down. I'm skeptical that we by our efforts can really affect a major change in world temperatures. It seems rather haughty to me and a bit like trying to play God.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Nevertheless, there is one indisputable reality that really bugs me. Where you stand on the issue of global warming does change fact that the US uses much more of the world's resources than any other country, especially when you measure that usage on a per ca-pita basis. Is this right? Is it moral? Doe we really need to use so much? Shouldn't Christians be at least as concerned about the stewardship of the earth's resources as anyone else? Why do the liberals get to define this issue? Shouldn't Christians be at the forefront of the environmental movement, promoting responsible environmentalism? Shouldn't this issue concern us? Why don't we hear more calls for responsible stewardship of the earth's resources amongst Christians?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have visited or lived in several different countries. From what I've seen learned, we could do a lot better job in the US to use less and save some of the world's resources. Here are my top ten ways to be responsible stewards . Call it a be Christian Manifesto for the Environment. These may hurt.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> 1. Recycle. Many towns and cities are promoting recycling across the US, but in most places it's still voluntary, and some things that should be able to be recycled aren't. Everyone who claims to be a Christian should be doing this, even if it takes a little more time and effort. Europe is doing a whole better than we are on this, in my humble opinion.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> 2. Don't buy water in plastic bottles unless you're traveling or absolutely have no other water available. Water bottles clog up landfills (if they're not recycled) and oil is used in the process of making the plastic. Drink tap water instead. In most cases, it's cheaper and just as healthy as bottled water.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> 3. Reuse sheets of paper that are only printed or written on one side. There is no need to be obsessive about this. You don't have to be packrat like my dad who saved every scrap of paper and had so much around the house he could never use it in ten years. When you have a drawer full of used paper, it's probably time to start thinking about getting rid of some of it. But it's always nice to have some scrap paper around to scribble on.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> 4. Bag your own groceries at the supermarket (BYOB) using cloth bags or reused paper or plastic bags. Avoid getting new plastic bags every time you buy groceries. Plastic bags are another of my pet peeves. In Africa they are an environmental disaster as they clog up landfills and sewers and foul waterways, fields, and city streets. Plus they are made using oil.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> 5. Reuse ziploc bags. Okay, I know this sounds disgusting to some people, but it's no more disgusting than washing and reusing pots or dishes. If the food is properly washed off it's just as clean as a a bowl or spoon. Again, you don't have to be obsessive. Just reuse them once or twice or until they look worn or have a hole in them. But don't throw away any more plastic than necessary.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> 6. Use energy-saving light bulbs that last longer, and please turn off lights when you're not using them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> 7. Turn the thermostat down in the winter (especially at night) and up in the summer. Just one degree Fahrenheit can make a big difference on heating bills, and if everyone did it, think how much less oil and gas we would use in our country. Here, again, the Europeans do much better than us. I'm currently in England where they keep the houses pretty chilly in the winter. While it's a little cold for me here, we could easily find a happy medium between out 'hot' houses and the 'cold' ones in England and save a lot. Putting on a sweater doesn't hurt us. Likewise, we would hardly feel it if we raise the temperature of our air conditioning in the summer by one degree.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> 8. Plant a tree, especially in a place where it is needed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> 9. Eat in more often. This takes a little more time and planning than eating out, but it saves on energy costs (driving to the restaurant, heating the restaurant, etc.), and it's cheaper, more healthy, and promotes more family interaction.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> 10. If you live in an area where it's possible, bicycle, walk, or ride public transport to work or church, especially when the weather's nice. Not only does it help to use less gas and reduce our dependence on foreign oil, it's good for our health.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And now I have two complaints against corporations and restaurants and businesses and retailers. If these two complaints were rectified, it could seriously reduce our conspicuous consumption. These are two areas that seem so simple to me, but I don't hear any environmentalists or politicians talking about them. It seems that simple things like this could go a long way toward reducing our dependence on foreign oil, using fewer trees, and reducing costs. Here are my proposals:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> 1) Turn the thermostats down 2 degrees Fahrenheit in the winter and up 2 degrees Fahrenheit in the summer. It doesn't need to be so hot in Wal-Mart in the winter nor so cold in McDonald's in the summer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> 2) Reduce the amount of plastic and cardboard packaging on items sold in stores. One of my pet peeves is to buy a piece of merchandise in a box or container only to have that item take up a tiny proportion of the box/container. Why do things have to have so much packaging? It's insane.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm not sure if we can legislate the last two items, but is there some way we could campaign for them? Couldn't places of business and retailers be encouraged by the public to take such actions? I'd like to see a movement in that direction.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Those are my thoughts. I hope I haven't stepped on too many toes.</span>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-61807371145386782132010-04-18T15:52:00.000-05:002010-04-18T15:52:10.821-05:00"To Be or Not to Be, That Is the Question"<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">No, I'm not contemplating suicide like Hamlet did in Shakespeare's famous play. I've only been at this doctorate for three weeks, and I have still to get into the real work. Rather, I'm contemplating the QUESTION. What is my question? Specifically, what question will my research answer?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We have been warned that we will go through many drafts of our research question before we settle on the final one. In three weeks I have already gone through 10 drafts. Another professor warned us that getting the question right is crucial to your success in getting the degree. He said he believes getting the question right is one-third of your degree. Wow, that puts it in a very important light.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">So, I've been wrestling with the question. Before I came to Research Induction School at the Oxford Centre for Mission Studies, my question was something like," Why is there such a lack of indigenous worship music in Songhai churches?" After I arrived, that quickly morphed into, "Is there a culturally-appropriate, Biblically-based form of worship music (for church) that is distinctly Songhai? If so, what is it?" After nine revisions, the question now sounds more like this: "How can the discipline of ethnomusicology inform and speak to the issue of a lack of indigenous worship music amongst the Songhai?" The latter question may include the two previous questions and several of the in-between revisions. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">And so the question goes on. This one or that one. That wording or this one. To be or not...to be continued.....</span>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-21652603487452680542010-04-11T16:48:00.000-05:002010-04-11T16:48:46.328-05:00The end of the beginning<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For almost ten years I have thought, prayed, and sought advice about doing a PhD. There seemed to be many obstacles in the way: timing, a demanding ministry, family needs, finances, doubts, objections, lack of good Internet access, a topic, etc. One by one God removed each obstacle and showed me that this was His will.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I hope I never become an academic snob. Ultimately, this PhD has no lasting value in and of itself. The piece of paper I hope to get (and it's not guaranteed that I will get it: I have to go through several probationary stages first) might as well be burned if I use it to show how intelligent I am or how much better I am than others. No, it's more about obedience and doing something of lasting value that will further God's kingdom and help his people.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So, here I am off to school on my first day. </span><br />
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<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Just kidding.</div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Oxford Centre for Mission Studies (OCMS) is located on Woodstock Road in north Oxford. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It's actually less than a mile from the centre of town and the 40 different colleges that make up the University of Oxford. OCMS is located in an old church on a busy thoroughfare leading out of the city to the north. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0z8GOcgjOSfZZZrQHvWLjx26_OgBLyGJf4iuq9eOBGek6DWF_GGFnnXFGTDghj8VQfN-fVy731eDkZypRBZffBYaOLVvKFYgrlKptoA4sgF2eEvF3EMBcrdf64Aqaj3O_5y90CQ/s1600/033+OCMS.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0z8GOcgjOSfZZZrQHvWLjx26_OgBLyGJf4iuq9eOBGek6DWF_GGFnnXFGTDghj8VQfN-fVy731eDkZypRBZffBYaOLVvKFYgrlKptoA4sgF2eEvF3EMBcrdf64Aqaj3O_5y90CQ/s320/033+OCMS.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Actually, OCMS is not a part of Oxford University. It is only loosely affiliated with it. We have no access to any of the colleges, but we do have one privilege afforded to all Oxford University students: access to the Bodleian Library, one of only a few copyright deposit libraries (meaning the library has a copy of any book printed in the country and many more besides) in the United Kingdom</span>.<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> In order to gain access to the Bodleian, you have to have a membership card, and in order to get that card you have to go through an orientation and swear an oath that you will not damage or steal any books or smoke and drink in the library. It's an old ritual, and tradition dies hard here. I do have my membership card now and have access to over 11 million books and other electronic media available in the "Bod." Here's a photo of one building in the Bodleian, the Radcliffe Camera building:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">There are eleven other men and women beginning their journey toward a PhD with me. Five of them are Koreans (but only one works in Korea--remember that Korea is sending out more missionaries around the world than any other country but the US). Four are Americans (one is African-American and one is originally from the Caribbean). In the last two, one is British and one is Indian. I'm second to the left in the picture below.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS7iATn_8rCxrE1cFT8xs07BTpoDXh65sqbqAZnAwHbv84mLFNHpFPlBBBuy4PLfdhq_rog-7embiPpPDetbZpjTlxKuuNOU1NdhWXJGpnxR0YGjtABgIPnUtPJpqpYxoE2eCTow/s1600/P3300003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS7iATn_8rCxrE1cFT8xs07BTpoDXh65sqbqAZnAwHbv84mLFNHpFPlBBBuy4PLfdhq_rog-7embiPpPDetbZpjTlxKuuNOU1NdhWXJGpnxR0YGjtABgIPnUtPJpqpYxoE2eCTow/s320/P3300003.JPG" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">This will be a long journey of at least 5-6 years. I'll try to post as frequently as possible and give you updates on the road, but since I'm doing "part-time" ministry and "part-time" studies, things will get very busy for me at times. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For now, I'm here for 11 weeks. The first four weeks involve orientation and an introduction to research methods and using the Internet and the library. After that it's mostly research, reading, and writing on my own with help from a mentor and supervisors--full-time for the last 7 weeks I'm here and then part-time when I return to the US. I'll communicate with my supervisors via skype, the Internet, and the phone, but most of the work will be my own. UK higher degrees don't involve a lot of courses. Instead, you do a lot of reading and research on your own under the guidance of supervisors. It's a lonely road, but OCMS tries to help you through it as much as possible.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Well, this is the end of the beginning. I've started on a new adventure. I predict there will be times I will wonder out loud why I ever embarked on this journey. But there will be times of enlightenment and discovery as well. I pray that this degree will bring glory to God and produce something lasting, something enduring for His work. I do not want something fleeting, something that is just a piece of paper that could be burned up in the fire. Until next time.</span><br />
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</span>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-11667533104002734332010-03-23T10:12:00.001-05:002010-03-23T10:16:20.295-05:00A New Toy<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Anyone who knows me knows I love music. From the time I sang my first solo in church when I was four until the present, I have been involved in music in some way. I started taking trumpet lessons when I was ten and played that instrument through high school. I also played the French horn for a number of years. I sang in choirs and loved to listen to good music.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsU-scRTum3pSNj7nEDL-bCB1qQ7NW4Gk-mJm6qYlrBTH8sIC4qJvGPQTj99oXmGYmjse2ANOYSmbbfCAQofsVcMV8w5EXCgUZLpuVQjgzSkBeBtRHD9hvcZ7IZKbmf_DDqS5k-A/s1600-h/P2180020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsU-scRTum3pSNj7nEDL-bCB1qQ7NW4Gk-mJm6qYlrBTH8sIC4qJvGPQTj99oXmGYmjse2ANOYSmbbfCAQofsVcMV8w5EXCgUZLpuVQjgzSkBeBtRHD9hvcZ7IZKbmf_DDqS5k-A/s320/P2180020.JPG" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">However, it was when mom insisted that I take piano lessons that I really fell in love. It was 1972, and I was 13, trying to find out who I was, like any other teenager. Mom made me and my three brothers take at least one year of piano lessons. I was the only one who continued after the first year. I took eight years of lessons and got most of my musical training on the piano. I played for musical groups in both high school and college and often in church settings. I never really wanted to take up the guitar. All my friends played the guitar, and I was the only one who could really play the piano, so I carved out my identity on that instrument and tried to be different.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">When I left home to go to college, I continued my musical training on the piano, but the piano on which I first learned to play remained at my parents' house. Here it is, the Baldwin spinet I loved so dearly. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbelcNb8C6V-LQQKPZHj2hSufDnwwepHsieBwhtohZ4KDXKFLkVAK9zZGaO_vv3fiXufd6U2i2macfo6mjGg_8a4fMUL6FPlYxwDeBuxODhd8DY2XIwmXUlaJPL9iBPyJACkzAHw/s1600-h/P2180012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbelcNb8C6V-LQQKPZHj2hSufDnwwepHsieBwhtohZ4KDXKFLkVAK9zZGaO_vv3fiXufd6U2i2macfo6mjGg_8a4fMUL6FPlYxwDeBuxODhd8DY2XIwmXUlaJPL9iBPyJACkzAHw/s320/P2180012.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpAOouv5JoECyiiSUe5mEIW6VerfrC_uxVfAqRp1Dcs5mfb21rn-CDHLuidULYZGVmepCfW-ZthdEAqtef9aQ45OZTOWh94aXhrYL0xEoSHWBFczd9S9C5cVSLkcP6bSX-pZ8GQ/s1600-h/P2180018+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpAOouv5JoECyiiSUe5mEIW6VerfrC_uxVfAqRp1Dcs5mfb21rn-CDHLuidULYZGVmepCfW-ZthdEAqtef9aQ45OZTOWh94aXhrYL0xEoSHWBFczd9S9C5cVSLkcP6bSX-pZ8GQ/s320/P2180018+-+Copy.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">As the time approached for me to leave for Africa in 1984, I realized that I wasn't going to be able to haul a piano all over the world. Affordable electronic pianos were just beginning to appear on the market at that point, but I still couldn't justify the price nor the astronomical shipping costs. So, I taught myself to play the guitar, a much more portable instrument. Over the years, I have enjoyed the guitar, and as my skills on the piano got rusty, my guitar abilities got better. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkHChFPTg9mdtxdazi20rsrePuJuuQuafSN1iEanQtpvM8YTyUlDxsqWECF4oo7AKx6qO4-bIHwNwX-ac_Gi8SPwTdSWdmyh9X-cp2041f5uzbou2R7vgZmvcCnO8v7Tn0tUdCOQ/s1600-h/P3210051+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkHChFPTg9mdtxdazi20rsrePuJuuQuafSN1iEanQtpvM8YTyUlDxsqWECF4oo7AKx6qO4-bIHwNwX-ac_Gi8SPwTdSWdmyh9X-cp2041f5uzbou2R7vgZmvcCnO8v7Tn0tUdCOQ/s320/P3210051+-+Copy.JPG" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But I always considered the piano my first instrument and longed for the day when I could have constant access to one. I ran across pianos in Africa and in the US and would play whenever the opportunity arose, but in all my adult life (33 years) I have never owned a piano. Until now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Before dad died, my parents and I had discussed the possibility of giving me the old piano that had sat in their house all these years. The problem was we had no place to store it and couldn't haul it to Africa. Pianos like that don't work well in the tropics. Then a few months ago I ran into a Christian man who operates a music store and repairs musical instruments. He suggested we trade mom and dad's old upright for a newer electronic version. Both are used, but both are still valuable instruments. And all we would have to do would be to pay for the shipping. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">For five years, I have been praying that the Lord would give me my piano back. He has done that beyond my wildest imaginations. On March 20, we picked up the new (used) piano from our friend. It's not fancy and doesn't have a lot of bells and whistles. But it's what I have needed for a long time. Now I can rehone my skills and get better. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Now I'm headed to England to start a doctoral program. I won't have my piano (nor my guitar) with me, but the subject of my studies will be music, specifically, ethnomusicology (a branch of anthropology), the study of ethnic music played in various cultures. I'll be taking a more intense look at the Songhai people and their music, and I'm really excited. I leave tomorrow (March 24) for Oxford.</span><br />
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</span>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-81676908868333800352010-03-01T21:11:00.000-05:002010-03-01T21:11:49.707-05:00Zollo nda nga korfo (A gourd and its string)<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">African languages have many proverbs, and </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">the Songhai language is no exception. This is one of my favorites: "A gourd and its string." Now you're probably wondering what in the world that means. Well, first, a little explanation is in order. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">There are many types of gourds in Niger, each with its own word to describe it. Some are spherical in shape and when cut in half, gutted, and dried, make nice bowls of various sizes. Others grow in such a way that they make spoons when cut in half. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sometimes the Nigeriens decorate these different gourds with various beautiful carvings and colors. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But there is one type of gourd that grows roughly in the shape of an hourglass. It's called a <i>zollo.</i> Here's a picture of one of these gourds growing. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLw6Nhue7yRAx1_lP74h0xcx2YuPGrVUOXQo4O9EDC-wQL6070dJ0TIkVh0DdLBjPwe39y3tWaPTI-Pr4e5p0o0UpvRwjRCWk-g7y6GtNUwl3pdGVKwsiHjmigbD9LEFI_4zKaLg/s1600-h/Zollo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLw6Nhue7yRAx1_lP74h0xcx2YuPGrVUOXQo4O9EDC-wQL6070dJ0TIkVh0DdLBjPwe39y3tWaPTI-Pr4e5p0o0UpvRwjRCWk-g7y6GtNUwl3pdGVKwsiHjmigbD9LEFI_4zKaLg/s320/Zollo+1.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Ever see anything like that? Amazing, isn't it? Now these gourds have a variety of uses. People may cut off the top of the smaller end and put a stopper in the hole. Then they carry it around as a water bottle. Or they may put cream in it, put a stopper in the hole, and give it to a child to carry around all day. When he or she gets home in the evening, voila,.... butter, a little runny to be sure, but very much like butter. In both these cases the gourd will normally have a string attached to it so the person can carry it. The string may be long enough to carry it around your neck. So this gourd (<i>zollo</i>) is associated</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">with a string attached to it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So here's the meaning of the proverb. Actually, it's only half a proverb. But, like many proverbs in English, if you say half the proverb, most people could complete it. (Try completing, "A stitch in time..."). So the full proverb is, "A gourd and its string are always together." But the Songhai only have to use the first half of it, and everyone understands what they are saying.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">That still leaves us hanging. What in the world does it mean? Well, the proverb is used about two people or things that are always together: A husband and wife, two close friends, two donkeys pulling a cart, etc. It got to the point where one of my friends in Tera would come to greet and during the long series of greetings that all Africans are really good at, he would ask me, "And how is your string (<i>korfo</i>)?" He wasn't literally talking about a random piece of string, but rather my wife. We all use euphemisms when talk, and this was one of them in Songhai. He didn't refer specifically to my wife. He used an expression which meant the same thing. And he didn't mean that my wife has me by the throat with a string. It is more of a metaphor indicating a close relationship of mutual support. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I could think of a lot of applications for this proverb in our own culture (our supporters and us, our supervisors and us, pastor and church, teacher and student, etc.). We are dependent on many others for help, support, and growth. We need to work together and rely on each other more. Our rugged individualism is not always such a good thing. This is especially true for Christians.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">There is another use for this gourd which really interests me. As a musician, this one is especially intriguing. You can let the gourd dry out and leave the seed inside it without cutting it open in any way. Then you tie a net of beads to it, and it becomes a clacking rhythm instrument like a maracas. Here I'm holding one in my hands. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Lots of uses for a <i>zollo</i>, aren't there?</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiazl-Puik-orEsM2S07Uy6w7EVM2nVTnNA92wnzy5FOUmg8-p7hBbawkWQ_VBOvnjnhntLgUCPSulHlbgF4VkG6wskXFv64nkqo7OArBN-vITWcpmHFBBzhq7ooWKo_kNiaFDSMQ/s1600-h/P3010005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiazl-Puik-orEsM2S07Uy6w7EVM2nVTnNA92wnzy5FOUmg8-p7hBbawkWQ_VBOvnjnhntLgUCPSulHlbgF4VkG6wskXFv64nkqo7OArBN-vITWcpmHFBBzhq7ooWKo_kNiaFDSMQ/s320/P3010005.JPG" /></a></div>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-51512203485017739522010-01-25T15:54:00.000-05:002010-01-25T15:54:14.568-05:00Death<span style="font-family: Arial;">OK, I know. This isn't a subject we westerners like to dwell on. In fact, we do everything in our power to avoid pain, suffering, and death. We insure ourselves against all forms of accident, illness, and even life, and then we're surprised when something bad happens to us. Go figure! The fact is that pain, suffering, and death are a part of our earthly existence. If you don't believe it, go to Haiti right now or some places in Africa where war and violence are a daily fact of life. We have seen so many children die during our years in Niger that you almost become numb to it. Let's face it. All of us have to die. We'd better come to terms with it.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I had thought I would write a blog on death about ten days ago. The earthquake in Haiti had just taken place, and the devastation and pain there was unimaginable. I also know about various conflicts and violence in parts of Africa, the Middle East, and Asia, and those places were on my heart as well. Then something happened to bring the reality of death very close to home.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The past ten days have been tough for me. My dad, Robert (Bob) H. DeValve, died on 17 January 2010. He had been diagnosed with a ideopathic pulmonary fibrosis in the fall of 2009. This lung disease is not very well understood in the medical community and has no cure. It is also a very serious disease which can cause the stricken to suffer for years. Though we knew of dad's diagnosis, he seemed in good health aside from shortness of breath and a worrying cough. We expected him to be around quite a while longer.</span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Bob DeValve on his 79th birthday officiating at the wedding of his oldest grandson<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">June 20, 2009<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">So it was quite a shock to hear that he was admitted to the hospital on Wednesday, Jan 13 with serious breathing problems. Even at that point the prognosis for a partial recovery was fairly good, but on Thursday night, dad's health declined markedly, and he needed to be hooked up to a suction oxygen mask to keep him breathing. We were called in on Friday morning, and we spent two wonderful days around his bedside. Dad was aware and lucid, if hard to hear, but he understood what was going on and could hear us. We sang to him, read Scripture, and prayed. Don't get me wrong. It wasn't a picnic. It was tough to watch him fight for every breath, and it was hard to refuse when he constantly asked for food or water. He especially wanted hot chocolate, one of his favorite breakfast beverages.<br />
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By Saturday night it was clear that there was little hope, humanly speaking, of his recovery, and that the oxygen mask was the only thing keeping him alive. We could have had the mask removed that evening, but we decided to wait until my brother arrived from Ohio with his wife and sons. They arrived on Saturday night. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Sunday morning, the family gathered and held a little service around his bedside. Then everyone had a chance to say good-bye. Afterwards, the nurse removed the mask and tried to make him as comfortable as possible. Dad stunned us by summoning all his strength, raising his hands, and in a trembling voice, pronounced a blessing (we're now calling this the patriarchal blessing). Here are dad's last words:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">"My prayer to God is that you all remain faithful to Him and serve Him and consult Him in all your decisions. He has His loving hands ready to forgive you, if you will repent....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">No matter what happens, come hell or high water, He will carry you through and He will give you a glorious inheritance far, far better than anything on earth. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And with all your power, all your strength, all your might, you will rest in Him. Beyond anything I could describe I will rest at His side both body, soul, mind, and spirit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">If you fall, He will forgive you. I pray you don't fall hard. I love each one of you and pray for each one of you every singly day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">When you are driving, playing games, or fooling around, He is always there. He knows what you are thinking right now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Let me go. If you want me, Lord, I'm ready. Take me, Lord Jesus."<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">After he finished, there was a pause and sobs, and then we all started singing. We sang him to heaven. About an hour and a half later, after struggling for every breath and with his family praying and crying around him, he flew to Jesus.<br />
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The memorial service was held at his home church, Trinity Covenant in Manchester, CT on Friday evening, Jan 22. Dad had been active in the church right up to the time of his death, serving both as retired pastor of missions and mentoring and as a member of the care team, visiting countless sick and shut-ins. He also visited prisoners in jail, discipling and mentoring them. Over 500 people showed up for the memorial, a testimony to a man who had touched many lives and to the God he served. The service concluded with the singing by the choir of the "Hallelujah Chorus" from Handel's Messiah. That was dad's special request.</span><br />
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</div><span style="font-family: Arial;"> Dad and Mom with a grandson, Summer, 2009<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Now comes the tough part: living in the light of eternity. Dad's legacy to us is huge. No one could walk in his shoes. But we can believe and obey God like he did. And we can fulfill the vocation God has given us to the best of our ability. My prayer is that there will be many in heaven because of dad and his life. It was a privilege to have known such a wonderful man and be called his son. He was not perfect, but now he is. Bye for now, dad. I'll look forward to seeing you in heaven.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"></span>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-10186375599020183412010-01-01T22:19:00.000-05:002010-01-01T22:19:49.073-05:00Christmas TraditionsEvery family has its Christmas traditions. Ours is no different.<br />
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On Christmas Eve we often have some ethnic foods (like curry or some kind of world food) and then watch a film. In the past that film was often the Jesus film in Songhai. This year we watched "It's a Wonderful Life" on tv. <br />
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In Africa we always celebrated Christmas as a family the day after Christmas (Boxing Day). The reason is that we usually celebrated Christmas Day with Africans by going to church and then sharing a big meal of goat meat in sauce over rice. Holidays in Africa are community celebrations, not private family affairs. So, we spent Christmas Day with Africans and then had our private family celebration the next day.<br />
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</div>Whatever day we celebrated, we started off with a reading from Scripture by dad (me) and a prayer, then we opened our gifts. <br />
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We started with the stocking gifts. Over the years, Nancy has made individual cross-stitch stocking(except herself, she uses a nice bought stocking), so we have something unique to each of us. Then we proceed to the opening of the gifts under the tree.<br />
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In Africa, we have a little two-foot artificial tree that we use, and we don't put gifts under it until Christmas Eve. In the US, we buy a real tree and put the gifts under the tree whenever we finish wrapping them. <br />
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We never played "Santa Claus" in our house. The myth of Santa makes me sick, but we know that the myth is based on a real person named Saint Nicolas. The fact that Saint Nick lived and worked in what is today the modern country of Turkey is all the more fascinating for our family since I have intimate connections with the country of Turkey. I was born there. So we tell our kids the real story of St Nicholas. To me it's more inspiring and fun than the fake "Santa in the mall" junk. <br />
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After opening gifts, we have our traditional breakfast of sticky buns, a practice borrowed from the Hall family (Nancy's parents). <br />
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Later in the day we have a feast of turkey (chicken in Africa),<br />
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potatoes, vegetables, cranberry sauce, and pie. This year we celebrated with special coke--in bottles like we get in Africa. It just tastes better in a glass bottle! :)<br />
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It has been fun over the past three weeks to have our kids home from college. We've made cookies and memories together and cherished the moments. Wish I could slow time down. Now we're in Alabama for a wedding of a friend who spent some time in Africa.Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-11991033100027879622009-12-11T15:09:00.002-05:002009-12-11T15:12:00.712-05:00Our trip to NYC<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Last Saturday, December 5, Nancy and I took a trip into New York City. It had been a long time since I was in Manhattan. My dad was born on Long Island just outside the city, and in the years when I was growing up, we would sometimes go to my grandfather's house and take the train into downtown New York. When I joined SIM, we also had to go into the city for medicals and some outreach. But other than using the airports and speaking at my dad's home church, I have not been in the city for almost 25 years!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We took the bus from Scranton into New York. Good thing we did, too as the weather was nasty and the traffic was horrendous. We went to meet up with two colleagues who had come from Niger for a conference. Peter Cunningham hails from Australia and works on our agricultural project in Niger. Ayouba Saabo is a Nigerien who works on the project. He had never been in the US before and had never seen snow. He got to see it on December 5. </span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We didn't have much time, so we elected to take the subway to Battery Park at the tip of Manhattan Island, where we walked around in the cold and dreary weather while it got increasingly more inclement. It was raining during a good part of the day. It would have taken all of our time to visit the Statue of Liberty with the long lines, expensive tickets, and miserable viewing conditions, so we decided to take the Staten Island Ferry. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The ferry goes from Manhattan Island to, naturally enough, Staten Island. Here I am with Ayouba on the ferry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When I was a kid, this ferry cost you a nickel one way. Now it is free. That's deflation for you. Anyway, the ferry goes right by the Statue of Liberty and gives you a good view</span>. <br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After the crossing, we had lunch in a deli ( a very New York experience) and then went up to Rockefeller Center where we wandered around and saw the big Christmas tree, the ice skating rink in the plaza, Radio City Music Hall, and </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">St. Patrick's cathedral</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">. Across from St Pat's is the famous statue of Atlas straining to hold up the world. We never saw the statue of baby Jesus holding the world in his hands in St Pat's, even though we looked for it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">By then the rain had turned to snow, and it was blowing and cold. The snow was melting on contact. The crowds were intense and ballooned with all the umbrellas people were carrying. In fact the worst part of the day was all the umbrellas barreling at you down the street at eye level. You had to dodge and weave in order to avoid getting one in your face. We did some window shopping and had something to eat, then caught our bus back to PA. It was great to be on the warm bus, out of the wet snow. I don't know if the snow accumulated </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">in New York, but just outside the city it was laying on the ground, and when we got home, there were 4 inches (10 cm) on the ground. Here are two pictures of Times Square, one in the morning when we got there when the weather was still okay, and one at night just before we left. Note the snow falling!!</span><br />
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</div>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-37006162260098470012009-12-03T12:18:00.000-05:002009-12-03T12:18:00.770-05:00Thanksgiving<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeh_6FQE-qezsA1HovRSiAfJ6C2AlwR-T3xYsaN_fCwict2pT7tlCWyjtQMg9oSTTPueQCxsOQ7Tl5rtFWa4cKkt8xAYUBxVfSpHbKP9M8srpx1ArIVDrC-U5NV2rp_5Ajz_H_cA/s1600-h/PB260006+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeh_6FQE-qezsA1HovRSiAfJ6C2AlwR-T3xYsaN_fCwict2pT7tlCWyjtQMg9oSTTPueQCxsOQ7Tl5rtFWa4cKkt8xAYUBxVfSpHbKP9M8srpx1ArIVDrC-U5NV2rp_5Ajz_H_cA/s320/PB260006+-+Copy.JPG" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Since I left college, American Thanksgiving has always been the time when my family gets together.</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> It's even a bigger holiday than Christmas</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> in my home. </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Rarely do we all get together for Christmas. This year we gathered, as usual, at my brother Tim's house on the fourth Thursday of November (Nov 26 this year) for the annual feast and family fun time. My two brothers (one live</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">s in Ohio</span> <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">one in Oklahoma) and their families couldn't make it, so we only had 26 people, but we had a great time eating turkey and all the trimmings. <br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My family loves pie, and my sister-in-law, Laurie, and her mom are the queens of pie. Between them I think they made at least 10 pies. There were 13 pies in all, 1 for every 2 people (!), including the traditional pumpkin as well as pecan, blueberry, cherry, berry, strawberry, chocolate, and apple. What a feast! Here's a picture of some of the pies arranged on the cupboard</span>. <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The pies were gone by the end of the weekend!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilL2nJf4yt6AvuUgm31MY3TJAUxhbew18L2R8cAnKV6kRKTkJNuaTOma-9jHQA5g4Y_PsJtEhbdbc21C8EXVTshqOe81KQZPYKL5II7NwsdGxog68gsF57oE1RXmjYQvvRIh2unQ/s1600-h/PB260008+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilL2nJf4yt6AvuUgm31MY3TJAUxhbew18L2R8cAnKV6kRKTkJNuaTOma-9jHQA5g4Y_PsJtEhbdbc21C8EXVTshqOe81KQZPYKL5II7NwsdGxog68gsF57oE1RXmjYQvvRIh2unQ/s320/PB260008+-+Copy.JPG" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It has often been the case that we have guests from other countries during our Thanksgiving celebration. I can remember citizens of Pakistan, Iran, China, Taiwan, and Europe around the family table in years past. This year we hosted a family from Puerto Rico who are friends of Laurie. Here they are around the table with Laurie and some of her relatives. We also had JR, Daniel's dorm mate who lives </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">with his adopted family </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">in Texas and couldn't get home for the holidays. He was born in Haiti. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After the feast, we often lay around in the living room talking, singing, and having fun. Here are Daniel and three of his cousins getting mutual scalp rubs. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Finally, a picture of my beautiful daughter Suzanne sitting next to JR</span>.<br />
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</div>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-32952117160738785042009-11-11T18:22:00.006-05:002009-11-11T18:36:46.279-05:00Music and Adventure<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjTT83MuhOSMjC43KwcGn2iukrU6G2CY0jPDBUQKZ7yXDXykOfgw5KOrU8D46EmK1ip3Jew_ZEnsQ3lb5hBoGV1uRLrxJM-TfDqgL34Ze4HC1LYlz6FzdunmDbTco6SVegdCgWAA/s1600-h/Copy+of+John+leads+NEWS+3+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 335px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjTT83MuhOSMjC43KwcGn2iukrU6G2CY0jPDBUQKZ7yXDXykOfgw5KOrU8D46EmK1ip3Jew_ZEnsQ3lb5hBoGV1uRLrxJM-TfDqgL34Ze4HC1LYlz6FzdunmDbTco6SVegdCgWAA/s400/Copy+of+John+leads+NEWS+3+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402991900159198706" border="0" /></a><br />Anyone who knows me knows I like music. To a lesser degree, I also like variety and adventure.<br />In 2010 I will begin a new adventure. And that adventure involves music. I plan to begin studies leading to a PhD. And what will the subject of that degree be? I'll be studying the music of the Songhai people of Niger, with whom we have worked for the last 20 years. This plan has been a long time coming, and it promises to be a five-year adventure. I'll be writing more about it in this blog in the weeks and months to come. Suffice it to say that I'll be doing the studies through the Oxford Centre for Mission Studies in Oxford, England. I have to go to England in March to begin with a 10-week "induction" course. Nancy will go with me for the first month to encourage me, sightsee, and see where I'm going to be. Then she'll return to the US to be here when Daniel and Suzanne finish college. I'll stay until early June.<br /><br />While I'm in England, I'll take courses in research methods, learn about the OCMS program, and have a supervisor assigned to me for my studies. Then I return to England each year until I finish the degree and have to spend only six weeks there per year meeting with my supervisor and reviewing where we're at. The rest of the program will involve research, writing, reading, and communicating with my supervisors on line.<br /><br />Today I took the first step in the pursuit of this program. I bought tickets to England for next March. I leave with Nancy on March 24.Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-89787286880297966802009-10-23T15:16:00.002-05:002009-10-23T15:35:42.418-05:00Succes and Enthusiasm<span style="font-family: arial;">What do these two words have in common? A while ago I wrote a blog about failure and success. In that blog I cited a quote from Winston Churchill: "Success is going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm." I like that quote. It mirrors in many important ways my experience over the past few years. And it seems to me that the oft-quoted saying in Christian circles that we just need to be faithful in order to be a success seem rather flat and empty. It seems there's more to being a success than just being faithful. <br /><br />One key to success, I think, is our attitude. We need to continually have God's perspective on the events of life. I know, easier said than done. This is where the word enthusiasm comes into the picture.<br /><br />Recently I learned something about the etymology of the word enthusiasm that makes the quote by Churchill seem even more inspired. While relaxing at a home by a lake, I saw a plaque on the wall that wasn't the usual Christian "kitsch." I abhor kitsch. I don't like to have what everyone else has. This plaque simply stated the definition and origin of the word "enthusiasm." I had never learned this before, and it's really neat.<br /><br />Enthusiasm comes from the Greek <span style="font-style: italic;">enthousiasmos</span>, and this word is composed of the prefix <<span style="font-style: italic;">en</span>> and the word <<span style="font-style: italic;">theos</span>> with suffixes.!.! Now I know there are a few Greek scholars out there who know that <span style="font-style: italic;">theos</span> is the Greek word for God. So the word enthusiasm comes from the Greek "in God." So enthusiasm means "an exalted or ecstatic feeling, and someone who is enthusiastic is<br />"inspired by God" or "possessed by God." Wow, I was blown away when I saw this.<br /><br />This is even more meaningful to me because the way I usually respond to people, to God, and to what's happening around me is enthusiastically. Even though I've had some of the wind knocked out of my sails over the past few years and my enthusiasm has waned as a result, I normally respond this way. Isn't it neat that God continually has a way to refresh my soul and bring me up from the pit of despair, showing me more about myself and Him in process.<br /><br />So here's my definition of success: live a life inspired by God and possessed by God. Do all things with enthusiasm, even when they don't work out as I had hoped.<br /></span>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-49921639511598925332009-10-18T15:14:00.015-05:002009-10-18T16:12:30.426-05:00Marathon Journey<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Nancy and I just completed a 9-week, 9,000-mile journey through 23 states in the US. It was a marathon, and we showed our power point dozens of times in many different settings in homes and churches. It wasn't all business, though, and I want to put some of my favorite photos up on my blog.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />The first part of our trip was taking our kid</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">s back to college, especially Suzanne, who is beginning her fres</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">hman year. Here's a photo of N</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ancy and Suzanne together at</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Cedarville University.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8cdK1kTwJULEvkC-xcq3T74oZ-rIfBP_sgslyMETU0IPpUAoKfrkOPnafVhDso6fI4dLYEYDtRzKmRgzOKllIGrcG1MmW0hI67kOSyzEksgD3MMKxQw3E_CYwRNdlkQOI1dyIow/s1600-h/P8140058+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8cdK1kTwJULEvkC-xcq3T74oZ-rIfBP_sgslyMETU0IPpUAoKfrkOPnafVhDso6fI4dLYEYDtRzKmRgzOKllIGrcG1MmW0hI67kOSyzEksgD3MMKxQw3E_CYwRNdlkQOI1dyIow/s400/P8140058+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394042430376059458" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />After we left Cedarville we visited many beautiful spots in this beautiful land. First, however, I want to show you a shot many peopl</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">e would not expect. This is near Toledo, OH. It's the Islamic</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Center of America.<br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQnv6PKLEJCIWwPCFbFowFoN90SuqyaCV_KB96tQZtPjMNrV2zgmJJHsdsKZ5dZhQ5mavTLgHjtPiXLAOPqnVzATZSYkJQQePIeg9Bjj8QbUOURX_zuPTHhHQTWduZdxLOgfG_dA/s1600-h/P8180141+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQnv6PKLEJCIWwPCFbFowFoN90SuqyaCV_KB96tQZtPjMNrV2zgmJJHsdsKZ5dZhQ5mavTLgHjtPiXLAOPqnVzATZSYkJQQePIeg9Bjj8QbUOURX_zuPTHhHQTWduZdxLOgfG_dA/s400/P8180141+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394043519488625538" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />Later on, we spent a memorable, sunny day at Indiana Dunes on the southern shores of Lake Michigan. </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Ge6fjiNwd4weg-gJFbtZZPb7eFljNCDI7VXl4Xw6PYkr6_yO6R67hXqC8zg50uwv4Y60t44MubCAruLZ08MrNx_bY-0rS8cEMpPpJIRNpTsvAj4GzRkii_kq3eLHWKJxKS_k9w/s1600-h/P8240071+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Ge6fjiNwd4weg-gJFbtZZPb7eFljNCDI7VXl4Xw6PYkr6_yO6R67hXqC8zg50uwv4Y60t44MubCAruLZ08MrNx_bY-0rS8cEMpPpJIRNpTsvAj4GzRkii_kq3eLHWKJxKS_k9w/s400/P8240071+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394043940277418802" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDbg8a0e2lYwW1BwjrZEqPo3I_rGhv7g3yziyJBfdbEp4MpiytVYPHskVna-DKl2cUu3e0wnuhLv0u0iCotlEV0G2wDtv7PPgLifjUoqLuIS6pG9ApnhfHe2mKmlXMX5NE3dPyQQ/s1600-h/P8240076+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDbg8a0e2lYwW1BwjrZEqPo3I_rGhv7g3yziyJBfdbEp4MpiytVYPHskVna-DKl2cUu3e0wnuhLv0u0iCotlEV0G2wDtv7PPgLifjUoqLuIS6pG9ApnhfHe2mKmlXMX5NE3dPyQQ/s400/P8240076+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394045231432127922" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HhB-Z2pOE8Oau0F_JPWpYA1Iy6lO7y5oQ3YjxFhJ1mObBeEbwsJDR0FhB0XJGp79MU3CL_KOJjwzxPSDGmNTSc5oc96cmqrhi3BrqWwbZuV2QpUFxheKKArVeoCKV8dDSD9g3g/s1600-h/P8240083+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HhB-Z2pOE8Oau0F_JPWpYA1Iy6lO7y5oQ3YjxFhJ1mObBeEbwsJDR0FhB0XJGp79MU3CL_KOJjwzxPSDGmNTSc5oc96cmqrhi3BrqWwbZuV2QpUFxheKKArVeoCKV8dDSD9g3g/s400/P8240083+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394044987634698642" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />Afterwards, we visited Chicago and saw the "Bean." Your reflection is all distorted in the "bean."<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZhbvsj3RVLQXDsYviL62nj95Uby0QzdJi5peHvUDJRrZE-Npma0Jp3mThOoCvb762r4JVp-CCKZrJnznXFm9brN7IuivG3mVHHiWRs9ASLkd1NBMBbEkNBMsKi8uT720DGbJPw/s1600-h/P8270161+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZhbvsj3RVLQXDsYviL62nj95Uby0QzdJi5peHvUDJRrZE-Npma0Jp3mThOoCvb762r4JVp-CCKZrJnznXFm9brN7IuivG3mVHHiWRs9ASLkd1NBMBbEkNBMsKi8uT720DGbJPw/s400/P8270161+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394045762191001538" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />We then traveled through the Midwest from top to bottom (Minnesota to Texas) in a week. We did get to spend two nights in the Ozark Mts in Arkansas, and </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">we saw the Pea Ridge battlefield, one of the major US Civil War b</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">attle site</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">s.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjzz18epsYXHIyQrQmRaVNyR53kdyaQHFjBivpxzXQtaTaCPFKMfITu0c3rcJ2Mo_u0udw9j41twlpT4eBh5LvCuBqBi64rApahHfL0loknj1OLcoCQlu2DW8IU3uCWXmTd2yag/s1600-h/P9030049+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjzz18epsYXHIyQrQmRaVNyR53kdyaQHFjBivpxzXQtaTaCPFKMfITu0c3rcJ2Mo_u0udw9j41twlpT4eBh5LvCuBqBi64rApahHfL0loknj1OLcoCQlu2DW8IU3uCWXmTd2yag/s400/P9030049+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394046491722767298" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We also spent two nights with my look-a-like brother in Oklahoma.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWIEjlOz2nAYT8Isudj8ycZbITZ9Pov8JJEJp10e9Mv6ZOzaF1Tg3LL6dNY8NhcUZUwvgZtxoriLTB9I8PR5GRA3Tqzd0dP1Vi0r22v_5GCndeLHvgLLjI5-x7Xrd_pg0WtijOZg/s1600-h/P9060011+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWIEjlOz2nAYT8Isudj8ycZbITZ9Pov8JJEJp10e9Mv6ZOzaF1Tg3LL6dNY8NhcUZUwvgZtxoriLTB9I8PR5GRA3Tqzd0dP1Vi0r22v_5GCndeLHvgLLjI5-x7Xrd_pg0WtijOZg/s400/P9060011+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394048886646218146" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">After a week in Texas with relatives, friends, and supporters, we moved on to Sebring, FL and the SIM Retirement Village, where Nancy's parents live. This became our home away from home away from home for two weeks.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1OZzuBcu_zyRrkyVnsDaax-zFmniCQDjaQMm1QbcxNlMMKENxCS7v8-dk8QQl4frwQ2QHtEWN9T82bESRyiTOfoVy3iIYnO2Ncn2TWa7Yp8PdSUtOKRXfYK1-lGzAZ4ifXWozBQ/s1600-h/P9280019+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1OZzuBcu_zyRrkyVnsDaax-zFmniCQDjaQMm1QbcxNlMMKENxCS7v8-dk8QQl4frwQ2QHtEWN9T82bESRyiTOfoVy3iIYnO2Ncn2TWa7Yp8PdSUtOKRXfYK1-lGzAZ4ifXWozBQ/s400/P9280019+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394047363834451362" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />Finally, we moved on to Charlotte, NC, SIM headquarters, for debriefing interviews and a week-long retreat. During the retreat, we spent two days r</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">elaxing and seeking God at this lake-front property. <br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzsyJTep5UNIPFi755hhWiGfQL6NZnl7IiQqOHi1YSbMITjdk1ZuyQ6p5zNYPsrQymFhgO-IisptINVpA1pAcDRn5wdVX8H10OBU64tXSAyiVcJU5lKfHXSw55tNs7GXzzUCc1w/s1600-h/PA070025+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzsyJTep5UNIPFi755hhWiGfQL6NZnl7IiQqOHi1YSbMITjdk1ZuyQ6p5zNYPsrQymFhgO-IisptINVpA1pAcDRn5wdVX8H10OBU64tXSAyiVcJU5lKfHXSw55tNs7GXzzUCc1w/s400/PA070025+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394047837473984210" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />Finally, we returned home to PA via the mountains of Vir</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ginia, which were putting on a display of their </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">finery.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7wgTc8VozNKEN_eh3mVMapmOaV64Ndyx17Tt5x6ZEhgoPtAeZvjRpZWpHzyY54XNEBn5hgxndBYy8LXPZzkC1e0mswmZNCJNDr-00M3ZTOqsLjtcPrraY2-_bsHfiSpXXBbqFFQ/s1600-h/PA120048+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7wgTc8VozNKEN_eh3mVMapmOaV64Ndyx17Tt5x6ZEhgoPtAeZvjRpZWpHzyY54XNEBn5hgxndBYy8LXPZzkC1e0mswmZNCJNDr-00M3ZTOqsLjtcPrraY2-_bsHfiSpXXBbqFFQ/s400/PA120048+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394049245766808754" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When we got back, we had a big surprise. It snowed for one entire day. Here's what it looked like outside our window. Brrr!!<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLQGbuJItdNw3zpcVkI6hz-6OMQNCs1Xmcwm6QRn4pvBLyOdXtmlKq_he_h7HLxRbkN9rMIo0hyfUAuGgRsy59-IHfmiKah4jCcXSwNpId9-l0r-nStgv4rbIE1hSZ9hRguKdKyg/s1600-h/PA150080+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLQGbuJItdNw3zpcVkI6hz-6OMQNCs1Xmcwm6QRn4pvBLyOdXtmlKq_he_h7HLxRbkN9rMIo0hyfUAuGgRsy59-IHfmiKah4jCcXSwNpId9-l0r-nStgv4rbIE1hSZ9hRguKdKyg/s400/PA150080+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394049581737920642" border="0" /></a>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-13770316952866366962009-07-19T15:14:00.004-05:002009-07-19T15:40:13.744-05:00My Real Double<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">A few years ago, I wrote a blog about my "double," Zinedine Zidane. Well, at least some Africans think I look like him at first sight. I don't think there is much resemblance.<br /><br />There is someone who looks just like me, however. It's my brother, Dave. He is four years younger than I, and there are two more brothers in between us (I'm the oldest in the family). But people do really confuse us. It's not too hard to distingui</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">sh us </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">if you know us, but you could do a "double" take if you don't know us well.<br /><br />So when Dave came down dressed in a blue shirt and tie for our nephew's wedding in June, I rolled my eyes. People were going to have fun distinguishing between us that day. In the end, it worked out fairly well, and most people didn't call me Dave or ask me how things were in Oklahoma (that's where Dave and his wife and four kids live), but several people commented how much we resembled each other. See if you notice the likeness.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJjcVs8RWJNcVgR5AGQINo_RLgWMBpqapRkOFNikcZfsDt9fikRl8miro0aBca0ik7CQ8wSZg3ctBBTI8eXBGvlxgD366n-zJki0apo7s4Q-rdj6WBh5n1peuT6R1u9cKJuZIjg/s1600-h/Copy+of+P6190048.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJjcVs8RWJNcVgR5AGQINo_RLgWMBpqapRkOFNikcZfsDt9fikRl8miro0aBca0ik7CQ8wSZg3ctBBTI8eXBGvlxgD366n-zJki0apo7s4Q-rdj6WBh5n1peuT6R1u9cKJuZIjg/s400/Copy+of+P6190048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360271988588190562" border="0" /></a><br /><br />It's great to be back on American soil for a while. It's also great to have our family back together again for a while. Daniel has been at university the past two years, and we've missed him. He came out to visit us on May 7 and was in Niger for Nancy' birthday, Suzanne's birthday, and Suzanne's graduation from high school. What fun we had! Here's our family picture at the wedding in CT, which I mentioned above. This was only five days after our return from Niger, so we were still a bit overwhelmed and tired.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnHzeKSrxdUKQttQFVC0lmkjkS17R9rhOjAUN8JnbRBv7pEE0kRpAMa3Jf_GRrgJnXUsJww_s2hEqd3klshFPTgDqNaETxSOcEFtFUgVW-_gJUZwGrW7zm6s2lcqeTIpm3UV2sYw/s1600-h/Copy+of+P6190064.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnHzeKSrxdUKQttQFVC0lmkjkS17R9rhOjAUN8JnbRBv7pEE0kRpAMa3Jf_GRrgJnXUsJww_s2hEqd3klshFPTgDqNaETxSOcEFtFUgVW-_gJUZwGrW7zm6s2lcqeTIpm3UV2sYw/s400/Copy+of+P6190064.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360272626176159234" border="0" /></a>Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-59420142816352482342009-06-10T05:15:00.005-05:002009-06-10T05:46:39.173-05:00ConflagrationA huge cloud of black smoke cast a long shadow over Niamey on the afternoon of May 27, 2009. The big, central market was on fire. The market is like a open-air bazaar confined to a vast walled-in spot in the center of Niamey. Here's a picture of the black cloud from across the Niger river.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtiG3CuE8_kJcCDDZD0iV31OKME2OmdXA4GH8Md6KvdvTUlAvTHHft1gQC_j3vybO6YluT3FyyU1UBsFUNGS-DN9X-QoS6HXLjlgLfDZUPazon1KuRFA1adO1uPSrdm3dln43qtQ/s1600-h/Copy+of+P5260051.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtiG3CuE8_kJcCDDZD0iV31OKME2OmdXA4GH8Md6KvdvTUlAvTHHft1gQC_j3vybO6YluT3FyyU1UBsFUNGS-DN9X-QoS6HXLjlgLfDZUPazon1KuRFA1adO1uPSrdm3dln43qtQ/s400/Copy+of+P5260051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345643752852273314" border="0" /></a><br />The immense fire burned all afternoon from 2 p.m. until about 7 p.m. At 5, I happened to be traveling in the center of town via taxi. I hopped off the taxi and took a walk up near the market to see the conflagration. Though traffic was obviously being blocked, people could walk quite close to the market where a cordon of police was keeping everybody away. I could still see big, black plumes of smoke rising up out of the center of the market, though I couldn't see the flames. Just then, the wind shifted as a storm started moving in from the northeast, and it made the flames go back in the direction from which they had come. The contrary winds made it difficult to control the blaze.<br /><br />Many shops crowded into the center aisle of the market were completely destroyed. The government news service said over 100 shops were totally obliterated. Hundreds more were damaged. But thanks to the work of many firemen and police, many hundreds more were spared much damage. Still, the loss of goods and income is incalculable. Pray for these poor people. They have suffered much. What caused the fire? I heard by the grapevine that it was an electrical short circuit. This is not the first time this market has burned. Back in 1982 (before I arrived in Niger), the market completely burned to the ground. Other markets in Niamey have suffered fires during our time in Niger. One even experienced a flood!<br /><br />Fire can be so destructive. But it can be beneficial when under control. In that case it gives heat and light to those who are around. That's why there are two words in French for "fire:" "<span style="font-weight: bold;">incendie" </span>for the out-of-control, destructive fire; and <span style="font-weight: bold;">"feu" </span>for the under-control, beneficial fire. I want to be a fire like the latter, lighting the path for those who are around and bring beneficial heat to the world.Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28331879.post-53088224705615988802009-05-03T12:14:00.016-05:002009-05-03T13:16:13.140-05:00Termites!"Do not lay up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where termites and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal." --Matt 6.19<br /><br />All right, I've taken a few liberties with the text and introduced a term that does not exist in the original. Call it the Revised Niger Version. We don't have many moths here, at least not those that cause much destruction. But termites...<br /><br />For years we have kept some personal valuables and keepsakes in three cardboard boxes. These are all paper-based valuables. Some of the stuff is more than 23 years old. When we moved last year, we decided to store the three boxes on the floor under our computer desk.<br /><br />A few weeks ago, I noticed some "cookie crumbs" under the computer desk and wondered who was eating while working at the computer (a long-standing rule in our house is that food and drink is not allowed at the computer). I cleaned up the "crumbs" and thought nothing of it. Then on Saturday, April 25, Nancy discovered more "crumbs" under the desk. It was after 9 p.m., and it was beastly hot and humid. She picked up one of the "crumbs" and instantly discovered it was dirt. We realized immediately we had a termite problem. I tried to pull out one of the boxes, but it was stuck to the floor and at my touch, the box crumbled into dust. It was infested with termites. Here are some photos of the mess.<br /><br /><br /> DISCOVERY<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw7z8jFer6OYmmq6TMPu9k6U7_R4oq1ex5Azz33QTPA4i89TvGQmjNZbSSblo2OCV1iMJIMhLzjEXEtJfeo-yxAi4DklZGw42LGgLmsAHIuK6WCQ2k0jpu7yJz8hwHQOum1bOeDw/s1600-h/Copy+of+P4250001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw7z8jFer6OYmmq6TMPu9k6U7_R4oq1ex5Azz33QTPA4i89TvGQmjNZbSSblo2OCV1iMJIMhLzjEXEtJfeo-yxAi4DklZGw42LGgLmsAHIuK6WCQ2k0jpu7yJz8hwHQOum1bOeDw/s400/Copy+of+P4250001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331653424329667314" border="0" /></a><br /><br /> REMOVING THE BOX TOPS<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ8CEabWedj2rrftJXWlL6vU-yBbVzNjn8o3sM3HdY_0b9Ju26vzfqHH4rXKRNEmrUnyB7aOapd2yPOdVHKawmyNmD4QzpNG-v1UFNMLdnC8fYg48UsbPMs_iIX1fkvpw72mEhsQ/s1600-h/Copy+of+P4250004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ8CEabWedj2rrftJXWlL6vU-yBbVzNjn8o3sM3HdY_0b9Ju26vzfqHH4rXKRNEmrUnyB7aOapd2yPOdVHKawmyNmD4QzpNG-v1UFNMLdnC8fYg48UsbPMs_iIX1fkvpw72mEhsQ/s400/Copy+of+P4250004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331653849744564738" border="0" /></a><br /> THE MESS UNDER THE DESK<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3TH0vp59U5EPxJVlfSBPQevWA3uYWh6yLd3rlvFhPiMCR0LvlB3MMOqjJOz4JP2jHuvAMRf2qCHudtiBBImV5VfKIxnLuctnMjfOZ0Gj1OhtRja2BRY4cC5CJWf4fOO-ryggfWw/s1600-h/Copy+of+P4250007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3TH0vp59U5EPxJVlfSBPQevWA3uYWh6yLd3rlvFhPiMCR0LvlB3MMOqjJOz4JP2jHuvAMRf2qCHudtiBBImV5VfKIxnLuctnMjfOZ0Gj1OhtRja2BRY4cC5CJWf4fOO-ryggfWw/s400/Copy+of+P4250007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331654498450980610" border="0" /></a><br /> A FORMER BOX <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Gm3aXdY1M4YMT6XWgE95B6Z6wlFIKTpXGGJAk-TZiSsPwpCnHV-le_x29g4_DkKkU9AaEw1Vt0WFbIQ6Nf-esR0Wrwea5VTnEBf97UQhzkpBQaOD5gBTAni-Fs0SouLYFxyUQw/s1600-h/Copy+of+P4250009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Gm3aXdY1M4YMT6XWgE95B6Z6wlFIKTpXGGJAk-TZiSsPwpCnHV-le_x29g4_DkKkU9AaEw1Vt0WFbIQ6Nf-esR0Wrwea5VTnEBf97UQhzkpBQaOD5gBTAni-Fs0SouLYFxyUQw/s400/Copy+of+P4250009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331654898952309778" border="0" /></a><br /> CHECK OUT THIS PIECE OF WORK!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQNNU8QDvf6RAscIaQxTORpifML3DcXMgIi4V3UaThXXWYpPfo-6VoBBcEXwhqu6jLnhLcwOs0M3HfISK4zMH50CevkcQ4L936E9-I5vo152_HaGuUJEUuxabUZBG6b0z-2AoSlg/s1600-h/Copy+of+P4250012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQNNU8QDvf6RAscIaQxTORpifML3DcXMgIi4V3UaThXXWYpPfo-6VoBBcEXwhqu6jLnhLcwOs0M3HfISK4zMH50CevkcQ4L936E9-I5vo152_HaGuUJEUuxabUZBG6b0z-2AoSlg/s400/Copy+of+P4250012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331655215218895490" border="0" /></a><br />Termites like a warm, moist environment in which to make their home. Believe me, we had a nice little termite mound growing right under our noses inside our house. It was wonderfully hot and humid under there with the computer right next door.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwkBs5SQE39cloNNJvryz4F7WCWwpZ-LU6u2R2w_Me1VCJJMbCAr_1L_cHJJS1NeHDjKcamEN3Mg-A9DpBqgoznSgwGN9KbWkTEM9ttWuZYKPNX0nCqfSCuhUb49YS-EnMHfZ1uA/s1600-h/Copy+of+P4250018.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwkBs5SQE39cloNNJvryz4F7WCWwpZ-LU6u2R2w_Me1VCJJMbCAr_1L_cHJJS1NeHDjKcamEN3Mg-A9DpBqgoznSgwGN9KbWkTEM9ttWuZYKPNX0nCqfSCuhUb49YS-EnMHfZ1uA/s400/Copy+of+P4250018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331655512723571842" border="0" /></a><br /> LOOK HOW THEY ATE THIS OLD LANGUAGE NOTEBOOK<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge1V_ZSyxaZngbH7VLyUZodWOFRp7fWN-wnTcFgvU_ysZGX1-2OmLuqaPOMwVRFDR1V6mKxZh2st4jDlk2Li7CyBaJlbiDi_vmT_TSY_mA8A5ZfatQsOLl5TF0Uq-T-9mxNJzJ9g/s1600-h/Copy+of+P4250021.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge1V_ZSyxaZngbH7VLyUZodWOFRp7fWN-wnTcFgvU_ysZGX1-2OmLuqaPOMwVRFDR1V6mKxZh2st4jDlk2Li7CyBaJlbiDi_vmT_TSY_mA8A5ZfatQsOLl5TF0Uq-T-9mxNJzJ9g/s400/Copy+of+P4250021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331656151875815666" border="0" /></a><br /> SOME OLD LANGUAGE NOTES--IN HAUSA<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLH3spklicZmrn9YA87npkdD1_RIgh3mLeY7XL5ObN-rcFH2EbSxpF5WLq9T0zOriFrIWzk9XDgJy5b4jDAhJ48RassL0yLOCz2Wqc6U41wu6h3fjZ_1HDH5RC83cnR1tHwEwGxQ/s1600-h/Copy+of+P4250022.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLH3spklicZmrn9YA87npkdD1_RIgh3mLeY7XL5ObN-rcFH2EbSxpF5WLq9T0zOriFrIWzk9XDgJy5b4jDAhJ48RassL0yLOCz2Wqc6U41wu6h3fjZ_1HDH5RC83cnR1tHwEwGxQ/s400/Copy+of+P4250022.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331656545215238002" border="0" /></a><br /> CAN YOU PICK OUT THE TERMITES IN THIS PHOTO?<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOjcPvsKayaBS9GuxmuBCcE0US3qLG7Jlx5vr8_ywLCPJsQB9lMC8kwFU8rmOYBwmrz1lHzTjLK58xg24ZcNqSiLH0GS8p7ChB-5jQdr7LQ2O6L4_isa3i145map_FDz9zbxccDQ/s1600-h/Copy+of+P4250026.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOjcPvsKayaBS9GuxmuBCcE0US3qLG7Jlx5vr8_ywLCPJsQB9lMC8kwFU8rmOYBwmrz1lHzTjLK58xg24ZcNqSiLH0GS8p7ChB-5jQdr7LQ2O6L4_isa3i145map_FDz9zbxccDQ/s400/Copy+of+P4250026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331656902892723762" border="0" /></a><br /> A FORMER NOTEBOOK <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9boIOt7yA31PfHvG2jalrPojPqRp6_bewmBojkavrG77J8egFku3S64oUO3J_C6Pr74K7r0jQrwddDzZb4YzCWET8QG1rpGz-u5ItKobBp-Bpj71LBWpaVBII8fcK8VEuLlDczw/s1600-h/Copy+of+P4250027.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9boIOt7yA31PfHvG2jalrPojPqRp6_bewmBojkavrG77J8egFku3S64oUO3J_C6Pr74K7r0jQrwddDzZb4YzCWET8QG1rpGz-u5ItKobBp-Bpj71LBWpaVBII8fcK8VEuLlDczw/s400/Copy+of+P4250027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331657269290747410" border="0" /></a><br /><br /> CLEANING UP THE MESS<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cQ6YTsGFo3oOQ0BBF4avA5GpN1T9LqRNx6EKdS0iJd5bNiILVl4v2JXfbBi5fogXZe5-7m83JVwncaVENS4Nehkv5pdO7oiw9Zp2VxGOD7SdFCGGLyUj-pHKc2H7DPkrJJSNng/s1600-h/Copy+of+P4250035.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cQ6YTsGFo3oOQ0BBF4avA5GpN1T9LqRNx6EKdS0iJd5bNiILVl4v2JXfbBi5fogXZe5-7m83JVwncaVENS4Nehkv5pdO7oiw9Zp2VxGOD7SdFCGGLyUj-pHKc2H7DPkrJJSNng/s400/Copy+of+P4250035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331657937382742690" border="0" /></a><br />Now what was in those boxes? Old letters from and to family (I managed to salvage a good part of these), old love notes between Nancy and I (completely destroyed and irreplaceable), magazines (mostly not important), language learning materials (some of our old language notes for both Hausa and Songhai were totally destroyed, but I managed to salvage some), and notes for various courses I've taught in Niger (I managed to retrieve all of these from the mess of destruction).<br /><br />I hate termites. But they do serve a useful function in this part of the world. You see, the soil in Niger is at best poor, and at worst, sterile. We don't have worms that can aerate the soil and replenish the nutrients to the soil. Termites do that job here. They will invade any organic matter left out in the field and break it down into decent soil. Sticks, stalks, compostable matter, and other biodegradable stuff left out in the sun to dry will quickly be turned into, if not manure, at least into tillable soil. How do you like that?<br /><br />Will there be termites in heaven? If there are they will perform the good functions God intended and won't destroy. Anyway, our hope is not in earthly treasures which so easily turn to dust and ashes, but in God who cleanses us from all sin.Yaaye's Thawtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854553461137290016noreply@blogger.com4