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Archive for May, 2010

My photography site has received a facelift.  Please click here to check it out!

Our Journey Photography

In addition to redesigning the site, I’ve added photos including a gallery of wildlife photos.

Order anything from the site between now and August 1st, and you will get 10% off.  Just use the coupon code “SUMMER2010″ when ordering.  All proceeds go to supporting our mission and ministry in Malawi.

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New Design

Hi friends.  We’ve made a few changes to the look and feel of the Our Journey site.  Let us know what you think.

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Visiting

This last week has been difficult, awkward. I have not cried like before, but I still feel a burning behind my eyes at odd and unpredictable moments reminding me that I’m not quite settled, not yet at peace.

The best way I can describe the discomfort is that it feels as if we are visiting our lives. We are – for the foreseeable future – perpetual visitors wherever we go. In each setting, on both continents, in Nashville or Fort Wayne or Blantyre, at church, with friends and family. We are visitors.

We can listen deeply. We can tell stories of our travels. We can relax and appreciate the luxury of time.

In most cases, it’s delightfully easy to pick up where we left off. But we know, and our hosts know, that the chair is only pulled out for a time. Instead of continuing to agonize and analyze and feel awkward, this morning I am wondering what it means to be a a good visitor. How can we intentionally be gracious visitors?

Because we are surely surrounded by the most amazing hosts! With open arms, good food, smiling faces, joyful hearts and compassionate welcomes, each friend, church and family member is unfailingly kind and generous.

And so I pray that I will be a better guest, knowing that in many homes and places the hospitality is so warm and the relationships so deep that I forget I am a visitor and feel blissfully at home.

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…yesterday I felt like the hemorrhaging woman. No one could see her bleeding internally but she surely felt the pain. But when she touched the fringe of Jesus’ cloak she was healed. And the hem of Jesus’ cloak is spread wide over this city and I think it lays beneath the church of the Malawi UMC like the Palm branches laid down at Easter. I may not be healed all at instantly, but each touch of the cloak, each email from Malawi, each coffee with a friend, each laugh and each phone call from family is restoring me.

I’m afraid the tears have only begun. I’m afraid that this change wrought in me has loosened the pipes. And I’m not sure there is metric wrench in all of the USA that will fit the bolts. Maybe the tools I need are waiting for me at home…

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in between us

…I heard the words and I wanted to hold them but they fell onto the table in between us and then I couldn’t make sense of them anymore. I stared at the table hoping to look contemplative but really praying that the words would magically rearrange themselves into a response

again and again, that’s how I feel

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