Traveling

Recently, I spent some time in Charleston, South Carolina. Walking through the market, I was struck by the basket weavers who form lovely sweet-grass baskets in the sticky sunshine. The familiar scene reminded me of the many days in college when I walked by these same weavers, barely noticing their work because it seemed so everyday.

During my visit, I noticed in a new way the simple beauty of bringing the pieces of grass together and weaving them into something unexpected. After clumsily attempting basket-weaving in Africa, I have respect for the skill it takes to create a beautiful basket. 

One of the interesting things about baskets is that it involves many grasses of differing lengths being connected to one another. As you come to the end of some of the pieces of straw, you add in new pieces and the basket grows. You are continually finishing with some pieces and adding more. But, unless you look closely, the finished basket looks like a continuous, singular piece and it is hard to tell where one piece ends and a new one begins.

Returning to my college town after being gone for several years pushed me to reflect on what I thought my life would look like after college. I definitely didn’t predict the pieces of St. Louis, Bundibugyo, seminary, or Philadelphia being woven into my story. I didn’t anticipate so many moves, so many hellos and goodbyes, and so many opportunities to walk by faith into new places. I anticipated a life that would feel like a straight line, but it has felt much more curved than that.

My hope is to return to Africa at the beginning of October, so now that June has arrived, I feel excitement mixed with sadness as my departure approaches. It feels like new straws are being woven into the basket of my life even as I am at the end several strands that I love. I am ready for the newness that is coming, and sad to see certain pieces come to an end.

In this time of transition, I appreciated the picture of the weaving of baskets. Even though I am sad to see my season as a student in Philadelphia come to an end, my moving to Sudan will allow what has happened in this season to extend and become something different and something bigger. And though some of the strands end here, many of them continue with me through this next turn of life.

These pieces of life that surprise us, that wrap us around and stretch us, are important parts of shaping us into vessels of faith and places of beauty. And, these small pieces become inextricably connected to create an unexpected continuity.

 So, I would appreciate your prayers for me as I seek to see all the pieces come together that will allow me to head to Mundri in early October. Financial and prayer support, time to share with dear friends and family, and a deepening confidence in God’s just and loving work in the world are all pieces that I hope will be a part of this summer of turning towards Sudan.

Please also pray for the hope of Jesus to be woven into the lives of the people of Mundri, into my community in Philadelphia, and into my own heart.