This past weekend, I hosted an open mic/art show at the homestead.  It was an evening the had me enthralled and I didn't want it to end.  A poet, a sculptor, a singer and a spoken word performer, amongst a few more writers and creative geniuses, graced us with their offerings.  It was such a sacred time that ushered summer in with profound, but gentle truth.  I am almost at the end of making a big transition that I announced last week. Thank you to everyone for your support and encouragement in this season.  It has meant so much to me and my husband. 

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I mentioned in the last blog that I'll probably be posting less this Fall because of the season's speaking commitments. True. So I thought I'd sign in and share a bit of what's simmering in my soul as I'm preparing this weekend's message.

On Friday, I'll be flying to Memphis, Tennessee to partner with Dr. Frank Thomas of Mississippi Boulevard Christian Church. The Boulevard is launching a new location in their city. Pastor Thomas graciously invited me to speak for their Consecration weekend. The opportunity feels pregnant with God's Spirit and weighty with responsibility...

The theme is consecration from Joshua 3.5:

Joshua told the people, "Consecrate yourselves, for tomorrow the LORD will do amazing things among you." 

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This is my third time reposting this post. The first was three years ago, on the eve of driving my car-load-sized-life from Atlanta to Los Angeles to begin graduate school. The second was two years ago, the day I left Uganda. And the third is now, seeped in the early pages of a new chapter.

Transitions have been integral to my life, and I’m starting to think they’re integral to life, period. Whether graduating from college, working through a break-up, or changing jobs, something of a healthy existence seems to imply that something of our stories is always in transition. It’s the way we’re wired, and certainly of the most meaningful ways we grow. That’s the good news.

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Mozambique is hot in January.  My backpack was pushing me slowly into the broken pavement as I trekked in Maputo. It’s a little dicey. Gas stations are equipped with sun-glassed guards toting pump-action shotguns, while malaria-crazed people wander the streets. But still, you get a sense that things are better than they were. This dusty capitol of a country racked by thirty years of war is trying to shake off its past and reach forward to an unsure future. And everyone is thinking about America’s new President, Barak Obama. I was amazed at what our new President meant to people in the distant regions of southern Africa. A few of the many conversations as I traveled in Mozambique, Swaziland, and South Africa:

Border crossing into Swaziland. My friend and I spoke to the father of a young family. When he found out that we were from the United States, he asked, surprisingly, “why is the eagle the symbol of the United States?” My friend replied, “it’s a symbol of freedom.” The man responded, “no, it’s a predator, but that will change with Barack Obama.” He was smiling broadly as we left, glad to have met Americans and to have shared his hope.

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