House Calls

Last night my friend, Sarah* (a nurse), asked if I wanted to walk with her to drop off some ironing at the local mahkwahgee (uh…ironing guy).  I agreed and we headed out around 7.  We dropped off the stuff and greeted the women sitting on a stoop next door.  They smiled warmly and began to chat.  Sarah asked if one of her friends were there so she could check on her.  After a few tries through various Arabic phrases and gestures, we discovered the friend was not at home but traveling.  We bid them goodbye and made our way back toward the house.

We stopped at the neighborhood dukan (small store) and said hello to our friend.  She's the proprietor and is there all hours of the day and night.  If I understand correctly, the woman has 17 children.  That is NOT a type-o.  17.  Zowee.  I might stay at the quiet dukan myself.  One of her teenage daughters was also present so we stopped and visited inquiring about their family (as is customary here).

By now a small squadron of children had gathered around us.  One as tiny as two came running up to us and yelling, "'ello!  'ello!  'ello!" and sticking out his hand.  I shook it and said "hello" back.  Some of the kids were content just watching us and listening to our attempts at Arabic.  Others were requesting "helawa" or "bon boni."  (These are both words for "candy", with the first being Arabic and the other French.)  We told them that we did not have any and soon they lost interest.

We rounded the corner and greeted a group of ladies ranging in ages from 12 to 80 (guessing).  I hadn't seen some of them before so we had just a brief interchange.  I looked around and noticed that Sarah was missing.  The ladies pointed toward one of the doors and said she had gone inside.  I knocked and tiptoed around the corner.

Sarah wanted to check on a lady who was expecting a baby and had been given strict orders for bed rest.  The woman motioned for us to sit so we sat opposite each other on additional beds.  She began to tell Sarah how she was feeling.  One of her daughters came in and offered us tea.  We thanked her and told her that we appreciated it but wouldn't need any today.  She ignored us and brought it anyway.  Sarah reiterated to the mother that she must rest so the baby could be healthy.  Her other daughters now entered the room and shook their heads no.  Basically, if mama can't get up, then who's going to cook?!  An age old question in ANY culture.

We had one last stop near our home.  One of the grandmas of the village had been having back pain.  Sarah had taken the woman a bag of frozen peas to apply to her back.  (Sarah thought this might be better received than telling the lady to use an icepack.  They have many superstitions about ice.)  The lady had been using it, but to no avail.  She pulled out her bag of medications and handed them to Sarah.  Sarah reviewed them and told her that she was on the right track.  

As we prepared to leave, the grandma started to walk toward her dulab (closet).  She said, "Before you go, I will give you perfume."  (Oh, no!  NOT the perfume!  This stuff is like no other perfume.  It not only goes on your skin, but in your pores, deep in your cells and won't go away.)  We smiled and told her there wasn't any need.  We were happy to see her.  She ignored us and pulled out the bottle.  She began spraying us both on the hair, the hands, the neck, the front, over the back and in the face.  She laughed and said, "NOW you can go."

We laughed with her and took our new smelly selves toward the house.  I walked in and John said, "Oh, you must have been out visiting!"  Yes, yes indeed.

House calls.  They take time and effort, but are so valuable to catching glimpses into people's lives.  My friend, Sarah, is amazing.  She calls them by name and continues to follow up.  We pray for them each day. Shwyya bil shwyya (little by little).  Thankful…

*Not her real name

Pam Speaks

Yesterday was a first of sorts.  I was the speaker at our little international church.  The pastor would be away on the weekend and needed someone to fill in.  I was reticent because I wasn't sure the position his organization took on females teaching.  I subtly inquired of his wife to which she said, "We have NO problem at all.  AT ALL."  Next thing you know, I'm in.

All week I had been contemplating which passage to teach.  Lightning bolts don't seem to be how God communicates with me.  Rather I have to do something hard…sit still and listen.  I finally settled on an account found in 2 Kings 18.  It describes the scenario of Hezekiah (King of Judah) trying how best to defend his country as the barbaric Assyrian army approached.  Sennacharib (King of Assyria) even mocked Hezekiah (and God) by sending him a letter of insults.

Hezekiah took the letter and placed it on the altar before the Lord and prayed, "Won't you defend Your Name?"  Well…fast forward.  God heard Hezekiah's prayer and did indeed save Judah as a witness to all other nations.

By the time Sunday came, I had read through this story many times.  I love history, but I am also aware that if I recount something from the Bible, I had better get my facts straight which isn't the easiest because there are a lot of "-ites" listed…Edomites, Moabites, etc.  I took copious notes, rehearsed my delivery to John and asked the Lord to speak through His feeble servant.

We arrived a bit early for setup.  I had a couple funny introductory photos/video to show and John was on keyboard.  People began to trickle in.  First a German couple arrived who were visiting the city for a couple of weeks.  We chatted for a bit and then they asked, "Why is this service no longer in German?"  I paused.  Um….not sure.  I'm now going through my vocabulary Rolodex in my brain trying to think of any German words I could incorporate into the sermon.  Gudentacht, nein, Fahrvergnügen…I'll keep thinking…

Others rolled in and the service started.  After we sang some songs together, the pastor (who was back from his trip) nodded to me.  Oh…me?  Now?  Okay.  Going up.

I took my Bible with my notes and looked up at the audience.  Today's group was nearly double.  I saw folks from Germany, Canada, America, Egypt, Holland and a Chinese group who wandered in.

I swallowed and had a conversation with myself:

"Start talking."
"Don't talk too fast.  These are second language English speakers."
"Don't use advanced vocabulary."
"Slow down."
"I wonder if they'll get my jokes."
"I wonder if they'll understand any of it at all."

I shook myself, said a prayer and jumped in.  The funny photos of "Why Women Live Longer" (see below) were received with stares, disbelief and a couple chuckles.  As Johnny Carson would said, "Oooooo, Bomb-O!"  However, when I showed the video of "Women Parking" the audience perked right up laughing out loud.  (That translates in ANY language.)

Things were rolling along fairly well when I noticed some low murmuring on my left.  At first I just thought someone was making a comment, but it continued.  Finally, I realized that someone was translating from English to German.  

Don't get rattled, Pam.  Keep going.

I have spoken in various venues so distractions usually don't affect me too much.  Today was different.  Today there were many variables happening at once.  My largely German audience didn't give me the feedback I'm accustomed to.  Rather they looked like my Grandma Belle (also German) who had just received the best news of her life.  Straight face with a barely a hint of a smile.

A couple times I felt as though something significant was happening.  I could sense the Lord working.  As I wrapped up with 4 observations (Thank you, Pastor Lindell!), John began to play softly in the background.  I'm telling you, if ever there were an amazing man…John Morton is it.  He's intuitive, gracious and my biggest advocate.  

I prayed, then John and a guitarist closed with a song.  When I looked around again, the Chinese group had slipped out.

Following, I received some kind words which any speaker would appreciate.  While others adopted the "If you can't say something nice…" philosophy or rather "If you can't understand a word she said…"

But I'm grateful.  Grateful for gracious people who have welcomed us in this season of our lives who allow us to grow and participate.  

So I'll close with the same prayer I did on Sunday (sort of):

"May God grant you not 8 but nein blessings this week.  

May your troubles from Fahrvergnügen 

and your times always be gudentacht."

The Cavewoman Diet, Day 30: Celebrate Good Times C'Mon!

Celebrate good times, c'mon!

It's Day 30 of the WHOLE30 Challenge and we are celebrating good times.  John and I promptly weighed ourselves and discovered that we each lost 12 pounds.  Those are amazing results although I would ALWAYS prefer Biggest Loser numbers, but we all know that is time-lapsed filming.

We forgot to measure ourselves at the start so I don't have that all-important "Look how many inches I lost!" proclamation.  Rats.  

Pretty much once we hit Day 20 this become old hat to us.  I no longer imagined a breakfast laden with pancakes or an afternoon on the patio with an ice cold Diet Coke.  Those are mere vapors in my memory…okay, mostly.

We do feel good and like the slimming effect on our faces.  (Although with my genetic chipmunk cheeks I will be positively gaunt before anyone will notice.) Our landlady must have heard about us because she sent down a bowl of strawberries to us rather than her normal cream-laden delicacies.  Rats.  (I was hoping for a cultural "have to"…)

Friday we will commemorate our first Whole30 with one freebie of our choice.  I have selected a muffin and John has chosen soy sauce.  Wild times, I know.

Then Saturday, back on the wagon.  

Of course, I miss all things delicious but this type of discipline fits my personality.  I am not good at "eat a small bagel" type of diet.  I rationalize.  (Small compared to what?  A tire? A life preserver?) See? I can't be trusted.  

Cheers, Whole30! 

PS  Sorry we don't have before and after pictures.  I recently read that some company in China scours the internet for them so that they can print them as testimonials on their shark fin herbal products.  Not even joking.  But the real reason is…I don't like the picture.  I look frumpy.  Maybe the next 30. 

A Mosaic of Village Happenings

The local terrain...

Mosaic #1:  As John and I walked through the village on our way to town a small girl greeted us.  This is not unusual.  As she shook my hand, she placed a piece of raw animal fat in it and smiled.  I did not scream.  I believe I have earned some sort of major award for this.  

Mosaic #2:  We heard wailing one evening as if someone died, however, it did not continue.  When we inquired, we found out that the family thought the man was dead, but rather he had had a stroke.  Friends who arrived at the cemetery were relieved to find out that they were to go instead to the hospital.

Mosaic #3:  The ladies I often drink tea with viewed photos of Aria, Emileigh and Jacob (our future son-in-law).  An older woman with four teeth on the bottom smiled widely and commented that she really likes the looks of Jacob and slapped the hands of the other women around her.

Mosaic #4:  A bird pooped on my head.

Mosaic #5:  As I was walking through the market a vendor asked if I would like to look at some spices.  Another man yelled at him and said, "Leave her alone.  She lives in the village."  I smiled.

Mosaic #6:  A very old grandma kissed me on both cheeks, announced she had been vomiting all night and invited me to sit and drink tea with her.  I did.

The Cavewoman Diet: Day 27 of 30 "Sculpting"

Open Air Sculpture Museum in our city...

I've become so accustomed to eating a side of carrots with everything that I don't even question other possibilities.  This by far has been the longest run of home cooked meals that I have ever had in my culinary history.  To date, I have cooked (prepared) 80 meals (minus one at a restaurant where I watched others eating some pretty amazing things).

I do believe even Curtis Stone (Take Home Chef/Top Chef Masters Host) would even be stumped to create something that I haven't tried.  (Yes, that is a challenge, Curtis, and if you want to prove me wrong…I'll send you my address.  Go ahead.  I dare you.)

My jeans are definitely loose and I do feel noticeably more alert.  Granted my jeans do not get "dryer time" here so I'm not completely sure about weight loss claims yet.  We aren't allowed to weigh until the 30th day.  

Modern Hedgehog

My German friend said that I look like I've lost 4 kilos.  According to MY math that means I look like I am only 5 pounds away from my Heidi Klum goal weight.  According to JOHN'S math (which is regrettably more accurate), I look like I have lost 10 pounds.  NOT Biggest Loser material for sure, but at least some noticeable progress.

It's sad that I forgot to measure myself at the beginning of this since most people claim that they lose a significant circumference rather than pounds.  Well…next time.  

Did I JUST SAY NEXT TIME?!  Yes, I suppose I did.  I see the benefits.  This is actually a good plan for me…on most days.

"Home" Made of Granite

But did I mention that a local store near us just shipped in a new batch of M&Ms?!  No, not your everyday M&Ms.  These are the gourmet kind that we NEVER see here.

Peanut butter M&Ms
Mint M&Ms
Dark Chocolate M&Ms
and the holy grail of M&Ms…Almond.

John and I smiled at each other, imagined eating a bag of each kind and laid our nutritious items on the counter knowing we were choosing what was better.

What will become of us after 30 days?  Stay tuned and let Curtis know that I am on the brink…

Sculptures as far as the eye can see...

A Wife a Husband Appreciates

Jacob and Emileigh

I received quite a bit of feedback from the What Makes a Man a Man post.  To be honest, I was a bit reticent to write such an article simply because we are all flawed creatures and any list almost guarantees the opportunity to feel as though we can't measure up.  But I also think it's good to be purposeful, to approach life with some totems of wisdom.

Having said that, I immediately began to ponder what nuggets of insight I could (and have) pass on to my daughters for what makes a wife that a husband appreciates.  This one is a bit tricky.  After all, I am one.  Anything that makes its way to print becomes a gleaming neon sign that says, "Go ahead.  Try to hit the mark.  I dare you."  That's not my intent at all.  It's simply prayers and teachings that we've tried to instill in them past and present.

Here are some of them:

1.  She makes their house a home wherever it is or whatever shape it comes in.  It's welcoming.  It smells nice.  It's comfortable.  It's not a museum where her husband can't touch anything, nor is it a pile of chaos that requires a search and rescue team to find the couch.

2. She allows her husband to be a man.  No, he may not do the things the way you do, but he's a man.  Don't make him feel small because he doesn't do something the way you would.

3. She studies the Bible and chooses to apply it to her life.  She allows God to work in her, to shape her into becoming more like Jesus.

4. She wants her husband to soar.  She understands her husband needs to/must slay dragons.  You are his wife, not his mother.  Allow him to be dangerous.  Believe in him.  Encourage him to step out and try things even if he fails.  He has to try.

5. She appreciates her femininity and allows her husband to treat her with respect.

6. She understands what kind of animal she brought home.  If you wanted a lion, don't expect him to sit in your lap and purr.  In other words, you loved him for certain qualities, don't try to make him into some other person.  

7. She speaks well of her husband and gives him honor in front of her friends.  She doesn't sip coffee and tell that latest, "You won't believe what he did this time!" 

8. She knows when to speak and when to listen.  Some men require more time to open  up.  How can he if there's never any free air time?

9.  She prays and prays a lot.  She prays scripture over her husband, her family and herself.  She prays over her husband's perceived flaws rather than nagging him about them.

10. She creates a safe environment for her husband to be transparent.  Problems come.  No one's perfect.  But a prudent wife knows that when her husband is confessing vulnerability, she should listen and pray.  To blow up at him or to use it against him in the future will prevent any further truthful discussions.

11. She speaks words of affirmation to him.  He may not say it, but he does want your admiration and respect.

12. She dresses and carries herself in such a way that no one doubts her devotion to her husband.

13. She trusts her husband's leadership.  Yes, you are a team, but he is responsible to lead his family.  The more trust you demonstrate in him the more he's willing to step out in faith.

14. She cooks meat and purposely plans good meals.  It really is important to him.

15. She's careful with the budget.  She tries to make things last, recycles them, looks for bargains.  She doesn't compare him to others who may have more income.  She understands that the goal in a marriage is not things, but relationship.

16. She nurtures the children to respect and love their father.  She doesn't use them as a weapon or method to "make him pay."

17. She doesn't collect stamps.  This is an old example that John and I have used for years.  When we argue (and yes we do argue), we have learned not to pull out the whole stamp collection.  In other words, stick to the topic and don't pull out your whole "stamp album of complaints" and unleash them. She forgives and moves on.  She doesn't continue to rehearse his shortcomings.

18. She is confident in who God created her to be.  An insecure, whiny wife who needs constant reassurance exhausts her husband.

19. She takes care of herself.  She understands that she leads the home in health and wellness education.

20. She gives herself wholly to her husband because she trusts him.

21. She dreams with her husband.  She sits and talks with him and really listens.  She doesn't belittle his goals or withhold hers. 

22. She works hard.  She is diligent.  He knows that she will follow through in her responsibilities.

23.  She's fun to be around.  She smiles, she laughs, she knows how to have fun.

24.  She takes interest in things he's interested in.  She cares about it because he cares about it.

25.  She sets aside time just for them away from work and the children.  This not only tells him that he's important, this shows him.  

What Makes a Man a Man

59.  That's the number of days until Emileigh becomes Mrs. Jacob Rogers.  The days leading up to the Big Event are quite exciting and also a bit challenging when we are here (Egypt) and she is there (U.S.).  Thankfully (and I am sincere about this) SKYPE saves us from carpal tunnel and the many, MANY details that have to be discussed.

I pretty much love events.  I love to create them, plan them, execute them…but this is one of the best.    You see, the longer I'm married to John, the more I realize just what a good man he is.  That in turn makes me think about the men that our girls will marry.  We've had long talks with our girls about what makes a man a man.  

Here's some of the list:

1)  He has a deep love for God.  He's not perfect.  He's not steeped in religious jargon to impress.  He just has a heart to listen and obey God.

2)  He has a good core.  Our girls have heard this one a lot.  When you get right down to it, is he a good person, kind, loving, respectful? Is he someone you would want your children to emulate?

3)  He has gumption.  Yes, gumption.  The wherewithal to not just dream, but to take steps toward attaining the dream.  Someone who doesn't let life just "happen" to him, but rather he seizes the day.

4)  He has fortitude.  Does he see things through?  Does he keep going?  Does he pout and quit? Can he overcome adversity?

5)  He is financially responsible.  No, he doesn't have to be Mark Cuban, but he should at least have a plan to manage his funds, handle credit and spend wisely.

6)  He is able to make decisions.  This sounds like a no-brainer, but he needs to know what he wants and where he's going if he's going to take my daughter along with him.

7)  He has a good sense of humor.  He has to in order to survive in our family as well as some of the curves that life will throw at him.

8)  He not only needs to love my daughter, but cherish her.  When you cherish, you protect, you guard, you forgive, you appreciate.

9)  He works hard and is diligent in all he is given.

10) He is consistent.  My daughter can depend on him.  She knows that he won't blow up one minute and lavish her with praise the next.  He makes her feel safe.

11)  He loves the Bible and he loves prayer.  Any challenges they might face as a couple can be sorted through this spiritual discipline.

12)  He only has eyes for her.  He carries himself in such a way (publicly and privately) that she never questions his devotion.

If it sounds like a high standard, well, it is.  You see, we're talking about my daughters.  If we (John and I) don't teach them what to look for in a man, then where will they get the information?  Better yet, if we hadn't modeled it for them (as to the best of our ability and some apologies), how would they know we were right?

In 59 days, John will get to walk Emileigh down the aisle to a man that encompasses all these qualities and we couldn't be more thrilled.  But this isn't a one-stop checklist shop.  We each have to continue to choose to walk in obedience to Jesus' teachings and submission to each other.  It's a daily choice that when chosen makes for an amazing life! (Cue "The Wedding March"!)

Now somebody pass the Kleenex!

www.mywedding.com/emileighandjacob

The Cavewoman Diet: Week 3

Cruising down the Nile at Christmas

Are you as sick of hearing about vegetables as I am eating them?  No, seriously.  Someone wrote an article saying that at this stage I should be seeing some of the benefits of this new healthy lifestyle.  Things which would include really tasting the flavor of food in its pure state without chemicals or additives, boundless energy and an awareness of my psychological dependency (if there be any) on food.  Well, apparently there be.

I have actually quite enjoyed this little trip into Healthdom right up until the point that I realized I have yet to wake up to a size 3.  I understand that I'm taking myself on a journey of discovery…blah, blah, blah.  Truly the deal that I made between my mouth and my thighs is this:  I will give you all the delicious nutrients that you say you require if you promise not to provide such a prominent display of yourselves in public.  Deal?  Deal.

I feel as though I'm keeping my part of the bargain, but they are slow to respond, reluctant to give up the limelight.  Before anyone sends me any cheer up articles about how fat burns and how this can't be undone overnight…I get it.  No really.  I do get it.  I think that's what makes this all the more challenging.  

I understand a "slip on the lips, forever on the hips".  I haven't slipped a bit.  Not an iota.  Only to my husband have I been more true.  It's the brain game that's in effect now.  Convincing myself that this is not just an event, but a life choice.  (Oh, good grief.  I'm sounding more and more like an infomercial all the time!  STOP me if I start to Prancercise!)

This is good.  I'm still in it.  I prepped another week's worth of vegetables and have mounds of fruit nearby.  10 more days until we have reached the completion of our first Whole30 challenge.  Very exciting.  Life is simply too good to numb it with Twinkies.  (Now THAT is the start of a great informercial!)

_______________________________________

The phrase "Cavewoman Diet" is just a fun name I've given this style of eating.  It's also called "Paleo Eating" which refers to the time when nomads hunted and gathered their food…i.e. meat, berries, root vegetables, etc.  

Strange Days

A random horse comes by to chew on the brand new grass.

The area of the world we live in is desert…sheer desert.  If you're not near the Nile, then your view is sand and lots of it.  The weather here is an unmotivated meteorologist's dream.  Sunny every day.  That's your weather report.  Nothing changes except the occasional wind here and there.  Oh, and hot.  

However the last few days have even shaken the locals.  On Thursday night a wedding celebration was taking place at a nearby hotel.  Part of the festivities included a fireworks demonstration.  As I was watching from our home, I saw lightning.  HORIZONTAL lightning.  What in the world is that?!

The wind kicked up and clouds began to gather.  What be this?  There is no rain here.  Okay, there's rain every two years with an accumulation of 2 millimeters, but does that really count?  

Thunder began to rumble and I dared hope that we might indeed see a storm.  Within 15 minutes, a light rain began to fall and within 10 minutes it was all over.  I had witnessed it.  When I have grandchildren I'll be able to tell them, "I was in The Great Storm of 2014…"

When we talked with our friend, Mustafa*, he said that that would be it.  No more or so he thought. The next day clouds continued to hover, more wind and another bit of rain.  He reassured us that truly this was it because they never receive any rain of any consequence.

Yesterday, we were talking with our friends after church and someone said, "It's raining.  Really raining!"  Immediately all of the foreigners took off outside and promptly stood in the rain with our face turned heavenward.  The locals dashed for cover while staring at the now-wet crazy people.

This time the rain formed puddles.  Thunder and lightning continued for maybe an hour.  We couldn't believe it.  On our way home, one of our neighbors said, "The weather has changed so that you will feel at home."  We laughed and told him thank you.

Mustafa came by and said that was the first thunder he had ever heard.  He's in his 30s.  Most people here have outdoor rooms because of the lack of rain.  They are now mopping up their floors and drying out the cushions.

Strange days indeed.  I'm quite grateful for the rain, but I'm also thankful for the physical picture of God's grace.  That when we find ourselves in a dry, desert place of the soul…God sees us and can make it rain even in areas thought to be impossible.  

And now, God, do it again—

    bring rains to our drought-stricken lives

So those who planted their crops in despair

    will shout hurrahs at the harvest,

So those who went off with heavy hearts

    will come home laughing, with armloads of blessing.

Psalm 126:4

No Words

Sometimes there are no words for the things that we hear and witness living in this culture.  I've attempted this entry a few times now and just can't seem to find a way to articulate my thoughts.  So read along with me if you will and maybe we will figure this out together.

It began earlier this week when a friend of ours stopped by to tell us some village news.  She said that a local family had been celebrating a wedding on a boat cruise down the Nile the previous evening.  The boat hit a rock and the family's adult son fell into the water.  He could not be found.  The entire village continued the search for days following.

Such ultimate happiness and such devastating grief in one moment.  No words…

Midweek we were informed that the entire Egyptian political cabinet had resigned.  Of course, there are varying opinions about why, but the new fragile government once again experienced another setback.  One very practical example is that this somehow affected all of the garbage collectors in the country who then went on strike.  

Alongside the roads...

Egypt has many amazing sites, but the garbage piles are not one of them.  Imagine a city of 24 million with no trash pick up.  It takes only days before it becomes an unimaginable health hazard.  Our city is half a million and there are piles of trash everywhere.  The goats are eating as fast as they can, but they simply can't keep up.  

Flies have begun to swarm through the village streets and disease can only be around the corner.

Such promise for a people determined to change and such stagnation for those who adopt the philosophy "mish mushkeeltee" (not my problem).  No words…

The most difficult event took place in a neighborhood of one of our friends.  A 4 year old girl was playing with her friends (boys and girls) in her home.  As they were playing she lifted up her t-shirt.  Her father witnessed this and flew into a rage that she had "shamed" the family.  He murdered her, wrapped her body in a rug and put it on the doorstep of the nearby mosque.

My friend said that they had noticed the rug outside the mosque as they were walking by that day, but that was not an unusual sight.  

Even now as I type this, I find the actions of this "father" incomprehensible. His unmarried (preschool) daughter had revealed her body to a male thus bringing shame on the family.  The only way for "honor" to be returned (in his mind) was to kill her.  He is now sitting in prison awaiting his trial.

A little girl playing and laughing, then snuffed out and discarded.  No words…

I spent some time sitting on our patio staring out at the horizon breathing a prayer.  "Lord, what do you say when grief comes fast and swift like the current of a raging river?"  "What are your words for a country longing to be free, but their opinions for solution pile up in every corner creating more problems than progress?"  "What do you say to a man whose concept of god requires him to provide his own salvation for his family, taking a life in order to gain it?"

The sense of despair I felt was almost palpable.  

"It's too much."  
"The task is too great. It would take 50 lifetimes to affect this culture in a significant way."
"I'm not cut out for this."
"In fact, I'm not feeling compassionate at all in this moment.  I want to slug somebody."

I did the thing that is wise to do when one doesn't know what to do.  I opened my Bible.  

1 Corinthians says: "All praise to the God and Father of our Master, Jesus the Messiah! Father of all mercy! God of all healing counsel! He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us. We have plenty of hard times that come from following the Messiah, but no more so than the good times of his healing comfort—we get a full measure of that, too...

"...Instead of trusting in our own strength or wits to get out of it, we were forced to trust God totally—not a bad idea since he’s the God who raises the dead! And he did it, rescued us from certain doom. And he’ll do it again, rescuing us as many times as we need rescuing. You and your prayers are part of the rescue operation—I don’t want you in the dark about that either. I can see your faces even now, lifted in praise for God’s deliverance of us, a rescue in which your prayers played such a crucial part."

Life on life is what we do here.  We laugh, we celebrate, we sweat, we mourn…together.  God in His graciousness has dispatched His ambassadors throughout the world to offer His compensation for a people robbed of peace, joy, assurance; to rescue them from fatalism and hopelessness.  

I'm not meant to create the change on my own.  No one can do that.  No government can do that.  God continues to seek out those who need reconciliation.  I am a facilitator of His message. I simply share the heart of my Father.  As I have freely received, I now freely give…words of life, words of consolation, words of forgiveness, words of hope. 

I'm so thankful to Jesus for all He is to me and to those soon to meet Him…no words.

Days 11-15 The Five Stages of Grief When Saying Goodbye to Sugar

1.  Denial--You don't really mean all sugar, do you?

2.  Anger--But I'm a Southerner!  Tea tastes like dirt with no sugar!

3.  Bargaining--Okay, if after 2 weeks I feel better, may I have a muffin?

4.  Depression--What's the point in celebrating if there's no cake involved?

5.  Acceptance--Thanks, Sugar, it's been nice knowin' you.

Day 10 and Indiana Jones

Dr. P or Indiana Jones…Seriously…do they
all look like this?

So Day 10 started out like any other Whole30 day.  Hmmmm…shall I put my carrots on the left side of the plate instead of the right just to mix things up?

I pondered my nutrient design when I received a text that a guest archeologist would be giving tours of a recent "dig" on an island nearby and wondered if I wanted to go.  DO I WANT TO GO?!  I admit that while our part of the world does have a few drawbacks, i.e. burn-your-brain temperatures, occasional uprisings, endless sand, etc. what it does have in spades is history…amazing history.

When I was a kid, I had one favorite volume of the Encyclopedia Brittanica, the edition that contained Egyptology.  I poured over every bit of it as least a hundred times.  It simply fascinated me.  Now someone was asking me if I would be interested in a REAL LIVE DIG?!  

I told John to clear the calendar because we had an adventure.  He was thrilled as well so we put on our Chacos (What else would one wear?), grabbed a bottle of water, ate our pop art vegetable design and headed out.

The island where Dr. P (not Pepper) worked had been several cities for a variety of civilizations over time.  As he toured our group around we noticed strata of bricks and sediment.  He said that streets build up over time and that cities actually "raise".  Wow.  He said the further you dig down the more cities you may find along with tools and information that would give insight into people's lives.

Temples and graves in Egypt have been discovered for the last 100 years or so.  This place held secrets of an Egyptian city.  The street layout, the housing, the water supply, vendors and places of worship.  

When one pharaoh lost power, a new one would demolish the city and build something on top of it.  The ruins reflected pieces from one dynasty used by the latter one as construction pieces.  Large chunks of granite lay about where the final kingdom had been.

Alexander the Great arrived in Egypt and the Roman influence began.  Since that city would be considered the most "recent" very little of it remained because present day dwellers made room for more advanced infrastructure.  

Dr. P reminded me of Indiana Jones.  Seriously.  He had the whole look going on.  He had been working in Egypt for 35 years through the winter months.  His knowledge of "this dynasty" and "that dynasty" was mind-boggling.  I lost track at the third Ramses.

We were just rounding the precipice of the city where a garrison had been when a security guard looking purposeful and impatient announced that the island was closing.  Dr. P ignored him and continued up to the top.  I waited for a giant ball to come rolling down on us but alas nothing exciting like that happened.

His goal is to archive the various civilizations that had once lived on this island and also gather enough details to understand how everyday people lived.  In fact, he said that when he needs to connect the dots from what he's found he takes a walk through the nearby Nubian village which helps him immensely.  He said in many ways their lives remain the same as their ancestors…with the exception of the ever-present cellphone.

We made our way back to the beginning of the site and thanked Dr. P for giving his time to educate us.  He lit a cigarette and struck a pose while saying, "My pleasure."  I waited for him to pull out a whip and lasso a boat to shore…but he did not.

John and I returned to our apartment full of new information and desperately needing a big drink of water.  I was truly grateful for this opportunity and also thankful that I'm fit enough to traverse over such terrain.  It inspired me even further for preparing dinner.  I would create a plate full of vegetables that recreated the ancient subterranean town of Ramses!  Maybe even a small Sphynx of broccoli.

The homes with small streets in between.

A temple of worship.

Paintings found with the paint still in tact.

This man holds the Key of Life.
I know the real One who holds the Key of Life.

Horus…one of the gods that was worshipped.

Not sure but I think it says,
"Welcome to our town.
Please tip your guide on the way out."

Down to the oldest city...

2500 year old bricks

The panoramic view.

A large granite post toppled.  A mill (right) discarded.

The top of the city overlooking the Nile.

Please hum the theme from "Indiana Jones"
while viewing our photo.