SIFAT build update

"So, Taylor, what happened with that construction project in Lusaka that you spent so much time telling us about?  You never got around to doing a follow-up blog on it."

I'm so glad you asked.  Those of you who know me well or have read my blog posts from when I was working in Zambia know that through no planning of my own (i.e. the hot potato dropped firmly into my lap not long after arriving to town) I ended up playing a major role in helping the United Methodist Church's Lusaka district obtain a title deed on a large plot of land north of town and acted as the communications link between SIFAT and district leadership. I expressed to you my mixed emotions about the initiative--about how the missiologist in me would suggest to anyone considering such a thing to run away quickly, and yet how I sensed that I was being called to shepherd this project precisely because I was keenly aware of the difficulties it would face.

After the countless trips to bureaucratic government offices I had truly hoped that, if anything, the district leadership would succeed in obtaining a title deed and that I would still be around the hold that dang piece of paper in my hands.  My wish was finally granted one month before I left Zambia.  Rev. John Ilunga beamed with pride when he returned from the Ministry of Land, and I squealed with joy.


 

I got to be around to see the caretaker's house built (which John, Mary and their children live in), the exterior enclosure completed, and the much of the main building's structural elements go up.  Was even given the honor of preaching at the first official worship service in the building.

There's a little Evelyn in that big belly!

The construction stage is still ongoing and volunteers are welcome.  So if you'd like to spend a vacation going on safari, seeing Victoria Falls and meeting some great people--and helping them build a conference/training center while you are there, contact my friends at SIFAT. 

Remembering Lusaka

Remembering our baptism

It has been pointed out to me that I haven't blogged in a long time. These days I mostly share my adventures via Facebook. That said, not everyone regularly reads FB newsfeeds and not every story can be summed up with a status update or a captioned photo album. So, perhaps I'll start again and begin by telling some of my favorite stories from where I left off.

Not long after my last blog post I discovered that Stuart and I would soon become parents. I had a rather rough first trimester, but we wanted to hold-off on announcing the pregnancy, so I tried to mask my illness and continued with my church work in Lusaka. In fact, when the pastor of the main United Methodist congregation in the district said he could no longer handle his commute due to the heavy rains and bad roads, I was appointed as senior pastor at Matero with the deal that when the roads finally dried I could leave town for my commitments in Indiana and Congo.

No longer itinerating around the district allowed me to journey through all of Lent and into Easter with the same congregation. The experience had its challenges (like marching all morning on a hot day in a heavy robe in an ecumenical Palm Sunday parade while battling morning sickness), but it overall it was wonderful. Together we explored how to enrich our Lenten journey and made plans to make Easter extra special.

My husband and I have a tradition of inviting embassy friends to our house for a Maundy Thursday dinner followed by a contemplative Taize service and Passion reading. When I arrived at church (visualize a rented classroom in a poor part of town) the next morning to lead the Good Friday services, the Taize hymn “Jesus, Remember Me” was still floating through my head, so I decided to introduce it to the congregation. The result was powerful. I had never experienced Taize like this; it brought tears to my eyes as the song swelled pentecostally and morphed into what it was intended to be—an intense communal plea for Christ to not abandon us. The service and song became one; spoken reflections on the Passion and scripture readings served as short rests between its refrains. It is moments like this that make me feel incredibly blessed to work in a setting where contexts collide and enhance each other.

Our beautiful Easter morning sanctuary

Blessing a marriage on Easter Sunday

On Easter morning I arrived with decorations from home (wedding crystal, silk flowers and tablecloths) and was delighted to find our normally shabby classroom had already been transformed by the women of the church. Pink toilet paper, salvaged balloons, curtains from their homes—everything they could gather had been used. I was honored that morning to officiate the baptism of ten children, ritually bless a common-law marriage and welcome three new members. What a day! The members were still talking about it with pride and enthusiasm when interviewed by a visiting American pastor months later.