Not so Solo anymore...

I started this blog when I left to go overseas by myself last year, hence the name Solo Kiwi.
However, this obviously isn't so appropriate since I came home again as I'm no longer solo at all!

So I've been thinking of what to rename this, since I decided to continue writing instead of finishing off after coming home.

Life as a Sojourner.
This will be the new name.
Let me explain...

The word Sojourner is defined as "A temporary resident."

 I belong to Christ, He is my true home and I am a citizen of the kingdom of heaven. This isn't my permanent home and I'm not a permanent resident here.

So I'm living here on earth for now, but I'm not a visitor either.... Visitors don't have to think about how much water they use or what food they eat or whether the basement has a leak or about the neighbours dogs which are always barking. The role of a visitor is generally one of consumption.
But this is not true of the children of God. He has given us beautiful things in creation and told us to look after them, to cultivate the earth and care for it. He's called us to look after our neighbours and make sure they're not hungry or cold or lonely.
He's given us creativity and ideas to make things and change the world to make it better...
A visitor doesn't have to think about these things.

This is why I like the word Sojourner.
I am a temporary resident... with a call to care for this place and look after my neighbours, but with a promise of another home coming soon.

This is who I am.

Airport Adventures

So finally I have a chance to sit down and catch up with this...
I wanted to share with you some of the interesting things about international travel and some of my specific adventures and things I noticed as I travelled back last week.

I visited 4 international airports within the space of 27 hours and there are a few things that are the same about all of them...

1) Everyone is either hurrying somewhere or waiting for something.
    
Hurrying generally takes the form of people awkwardly running while trying to look at Gate numbers and dragging their bags behind them and half trying to keep an eye on their kids who have normally become distracted by a vending machine or something else sugary.
Waiting generally takes the form of people tying themselves to their bags in an attempt at solo security and trying to sleep but not being able to because of the first group of hurrying people who continually almost step on them.

2) Meal times lose all meaning

International airports have a huge range of food available... Chinese, Lebanese, Japanese, Indian, American, Mexican, Moroccan.... pretty much every nation. I can only assume this is to make people coming from these nations feel at home when they arrive. Being n international airport, people are constantly time travelling arriving from every time zone and leaving to every time zone... therefore its normal to see an Indian family buying dinner next to a Australian family buying breakfast next to a Canadian family trying to sleep. There isn't such a thing as a "breakfast menu" because breakfast exists for 24 hours a day to match the people coming through....
This is a beneficial thing for people like me who sometimes likes to eat cereal for dinner but can't because usually its socially unacceptable. not here.

3) Its okay to do embarrassing things

Maybe this isn't a rule for everyone... but I figure that since I'm never going to see any of these people again after a few hours, its okay to do things like walk past the same restaurant 10 times looking at their menu board cause I can't decide. Or crawl under chairs to reach the floor outlets because the people sitting in the chair don't speak English for me to ask them to move over.
Or talk to the same security guy three times, each time in a different accent just to confuse him...

4) People make a home wherever they can

A lot of people are in an airport for a good many hours as they wait for their layover to end... You can identify these people by the tell tale signs of their entire bag content being spread out on the floor around them in their corner that they staked out. This could be a result of going through everything they own in an attempt to combat airport boredom or it could be their way of marking out the territory so no other weary travellers try to invade their corner.

The little things I keep meaning to do...

So I know some of you have been wondering if I have finished with this blog since I'm home now or if I'm going to keep writing...
I'm still planning on writing, I just have been having a few internet and time issues, but will get onto it soon!

But so you all know, I got home safe. It's hot here. My friends are great. I miss my Canadian family. Its good to be home. God is still good. Always.

Will write more really soon.

On the Road again

So I'm on the road again for a little while...
And although there are some frustrating uncomfortable things about travelling (especially alone with three large bags) there are also some incredibly beautiful truths that are revealed during such a time as this...

When I travel like this, staying in different beds, different houses with different people... when Im driving and flying and waiting and catching busses and trains and planes, when I live out of suitcases and repack every few days...
I feel more connected to the part deep in me that knows I'm only a visitor here on earth. A refugee on my way to my homeland, the City of God in the kingdom of heaven.

And although I love having a place to call home and a place to shower and unpack and relax at the end of the day... its good for me to be reminded of this truth every now and again.

Sometimes but Always

Dear God
I love You.

Sometimes it's hard to walk away from a place, especially when I love the people there so much.
Sometimes my heart feels divided and a little bit broken.
Sometimes folding my clothes and taking the photos off my wall makes me cry.
Sometimes I can't say goodbye very well and the things I want to say don't come out right.

But always You go before me.
And always You flood me with a peace and reassurance that it's good for me to leave now.
And always You remind me that You have such beautiful things waiting for me in NZ.
And always You tell me that You're holding everything together here with the people I love.

Sometimes I feel sad but always I feel loved.

Where You are I want to be also... So I pack and walk away with empty hands held high knowing that You are all I really need anyway.

Love from Your daughter,
Liesh

Walking on Water

Being in Canada for the winter means a few really cold things which I'm not used to... one of them being large bodies of water freezing thick enough to drive large trucks across. (I watched a programme about this once that gave me bad dreams for weeks)
The lake here at camp has been frozen for a little while now but in the past few days the temperature has soared into the 0-3 degree range leaving grass exposed, roads covered in dirty brown slush and the lake ice weakened to the point where now its unsafe for us to be out on it.
This morning I was standing in my kitchen looking out at all this grossness and remembered when my family was here last in 2001. My sister and I thought it would be a great idea to walk on the ice at the end of the boardwalk. Me being the selfless caring older sister that I was made Vanessa go out first to see if it was okay and after a few steps the deceptively weak ice cracked and she fell into the water. It wasn't deep and I could easily help her out... but now we were scared and had to come up with a believable story about why we were wet and frozen after our "walk". We had thought it would be fine because the day before we had gone out on the exact same peice of ice with dad and it had been great fun!

I've never seen this before but it's such a beautiful image of what it's like for me to walk with my Heavenly Father. When I was 8 I understood nothing about the physics of frozen water or how to tell when its safe to be out there, but my dad did and he loves his daughters so he never would've taken us out there if it had been dangerous. I trusted his judgement completely and still do.
It's the same with God.
He knows and understands all that is happening around me.. He can see the deep inner workings of creation and humanity and sin... He sees the realm of angels and demons, heavenly creatures whose presence I rarely sense. He leads me and I know its okay for me to follow because my Father loves me and would only lead me in places that He will provide for me and where me being there will bring Him glory and advance His kingdom. Not always safe and happy places but always places that are good for me to be.
Yet when I become prideful and try to make my own judgements and decisions without following His lead or asking for guidance, things get messy...

Conversations that just yesterday were life giving can now become prideful because they're not Spirit led. Relationships that were healthy can now become selfish and stale because I'm living off my meager reserves. Jobs and hobbies that were once a form of worship now become idolatory because I refuse to release them and surrender even when God is calling me onward to something else. Mission fields that were fruitful and growing now become life draining dangerous places because the protection and blessing of God has lifted and His people refused to go with Him.

The ice that was so solid yesterday is now weak, and it breaks and we fall through into the freezing water, yelling out, cursing God, questioning why He ever let this happen. But my Heavenly Father has never gone far. He loves His kids and can't keep His eyes off us, so when we fall through, He reaches back and pulls us out. The same as He did with Peter on the sea of Galilee, the same as He did with David all through the Psalms and the same as He does with all His children when they call upon His Name.

The Highway Man

I am on a highway.

The highway leads through the wide open deserts and plain lands, places where the horizon always shivers just out of reach behind its blanket of silvery hot motion.

The shadowy thin line of a distant mountain range lays silently, a sleepy blue watchman guarding its barren land.

My ears hear only the songs of the wind

Songs that move around me and through me, whispering secrets of the deep unsearchable things, stories of places that only the wind has gone as it’s sent from the heavenly lungs.

This highway has never heard the sounds of traffic for it was never that kind of road.

He built this road for me.

Long before I first heard Him calling me, before His hands pulled me forth into the light in the journey we call birth, long before then He had come this way.

He walked the dusty dry land, my Lover did, laying down a path that wouldn’t be touched for years.

He called the mountains to attention, the rocky crags to stand tall. He spoke to the wildflowers and grasslands, commissioning them to keep watch, to wait for me to come this way.

He knew every curve, every bump and turn for He designed it. Then when He reached the end He turned around and walked back along it to wait at the beginning for when I would come.

The dusty wilderness can be a lonely place but this road was never made to be walked alone.

For many long years the clouds passed over it, painting a different picture each day, and night after night the stars breathed out their music performing for His ears alone.

As the time drew closer, the air grew thick with His Spirit, the land pregnant with anticipation of the dance that was about to begin.

Now we walk together on this ancient pathway.

I wear a white dress and my hair flows free, my bare feet dance upon the hot roadway, treading on sacred ground, land that is holy but only because He has already been this way.

I know I’m following the highway, but it doesn’t matter where it seems to be going, because He walks beside me and wherever He is I know I should be too.

He delights in me and I rejoice in Him.

The dandelions on the edges of the road bow down when He passes, their gentle seeds being released to dance before Him.

The tough desert grass flattens itself in worship when he comes close and the wildflowers open to display all of their colourful praises when they hear his footsteps approaching.

All of nature exalts Him, paying homage to the Road Builder but even as I walk beside Him I sometimes mistake it for the wind or the seasons, my eyes are not open to the majesty of the One whom I travel with.

I only know I love Him. And for now, that is enough for Him.

The edge of the road are cracked and worn, disappearing into the hot sand and breaking off into the grass. It would be easy to walk off the highway and into the wilderness, but my Lover keeps me close, gently pointing me in the direction He laid out long ago.

One day we will reach the end of the highway together, at the place where every highway He has ever built comes together.

At the horizon, just beyond the shimmering wall of heat, where the dusty roads join and become a river of living water flowing out of the desert and into eternity.

And when I reach that river and wash in the water, my eyes will open and my heart will fully recognise the One with whom I walked.

Then like all of creation I will bow down before the Road Builder.

Hungry

The following is a poem or prayer by a guy called David Bowden. A friend of mine gave me his album and this one really made me stop.

Appetite is affixed onto my calendar
I’ve carved out times so I could be a carnivore
3 times a day I bow at my food’s alter
To calm the growling inside I call hunger
My Islamic friends have a similar culture
Only instead of bowing to food
They stop everything to pray to their father 
They even have names
Fajr
Dhuhr
Asr
But all I have is
Breakfast
Lunch
Dinner
I am accustomed to being a consumer
When my body weakens, I tremble
When my stomach hungers, it growls
When my tongue lusts, I drool

When my eyes desire, I feed
It never ceases to amaze me
That my body has this thrice-daily anomaly
That warns me when it gets hungry
But
Once, just once
I want my spirit to grumble in my gut so loudly
That it forces my knees to bend and my arm
To wave down God like a waiter
And order the largest portion of revelation on the menu
I want to hunger for a different kind of food
I want to salivate over generous portions of grace
Lick my lips at the smell of wisdom
Develop a wicked sweet tooth for truth
I want my inmost being to growl for
            The wheat of the Father
            The meat of the Son
            The fruit of the Spirit
A 3-course meal
I want a different food pyramid
A steady diet of the divine
A fast from any food money can buy
Where I only eat what I can find
Within the cracks of the bread
And the pour of the wine
I want to go out to eat, with my Beloved
The dark corners of town have the best restaurants
And there’s always an open seat
I want to prepare a table for God on the streets and the gutters
Invite his choicest of guests, the orphans and widows, his weakest of lovers
I want to hunger with the hungry
Thirst with the thirsty
Be penitent with those in penitentiary
And infect myself with other’s infirmaries
I want to binge on righteousness and guzzle streams of peace
Until the world’s belly is full of restoration, and redemption flows free
I want to prefer the flavor of words over food
Oh God, let me acquire a taste for you
Let bread loose its flavor, I long to taste my savior
Come fast my fast, save me from my hunger
For the Spirit’s noise in my stomach is fierce
And I’m famished for my lover
So I will break up with breakfast
Lunge away from lunch
I will deny myself of dinner
Until your portion is enough

Preparing for ocean crossing number two

When I left NZ last year, I knew I would be coming back but it still kinda felt like I was leaving for a long long time... now with just more than a week left in Canada, my heart is preparing to cross the ocean once again.

This time though, Im leaving one family to go back to another one. Im saying goodbye to circles of beloved friends here, to hug once more the ones I've missed for almost a year now. Im packing up my room here so I can unpack in a different room....

my heart is so full of memories and faces and conversations, I want to hold it all, to be with everyone I love and to not be divided.... But like with everything else now, I pry open my fingers and surrender all of this to my God who pursued me across the ocean where He was already waiting for me. Where He had gone ahead and made a way for me. And now I know He is going before me and behind me again as I return to New Zealand, Aotearoa. He has been so faithful and will continue to be, because thats just who He is.

Im grateful for these last weeks...Rachel, a friend who is incredibly special to me drove up from the States and we spent the week together, such a gift. i love that woman! And this week is the first school group we've had in camp in a long time so i get a chance to teach again before I go. and then my last few days I get to visit some dear friends from the summer time and see them one last time. I've been writing letters for my team, beginning to pack things up, sorting out bank accounts and travel plans, trying to pep talk my body for the 50 degree temp change... Things like that.

This year has been a refreshing, exhausting and beautiful journey and now I want to walk from this place with a full heart and empty hands, knowing that my true home is in Jesus and He is everywhere. So I'm already home.