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Gracefully Frank

Good morning jet lag.  Life is really quiet at 3AM. After sitting in that quiet for a bit and drinking some coffee I've spent a little time putting words to pictures. I didn't have much opportunity to journal while I was in Istanbul for one training and Albania for two training meetings.  My time in Istanbul was fairly short, and my down time in Albania was spent in pj's on the couch visiting with our partners there whose home I stayed in. Once I arrived in Sri Lanka where my co-worker and I spent a week and a half doing three 2-day trainings in three different cities, I found a couple of opportunities to capture a few moments.  

I landed at the airport where my friend was waiting.  We took a taxi to the ferry then walked through parts of the city to my hotel.  

Istanbul

Gypsies in Istanbul.

Istanbul

Albania

Albania


Albania
The rains fell most of the day here in Sri Lanka. It's familiar to me now. The smell, the breeze, the way chai tastes a little more wonderful when drinking it to rain. Like drinking coffee on the porch when its raining at home. I arrived in Sri Lanka after a couple of weeks of already being gone from home. A little tired, and out of routine. But, this morning the Lord is bringing back to my mind His presence and why I'm here...because I love him, and I love sharing His hope.

I probably haven't changed much since childhood in one main way: when I'm tired, I can get a little cranky or be a little more prone to tears. And being away from home like this can create a deep tired...even when I'm sleeping pretty well and my hosts are wonderful. So this morning tears and cranky were on high alert. Slowly, but surely, he has begun whispering His love to me though. Through the rain. Through the hugs of those who say "welcome sister" with sweet smiles and open arms. Some of them have traveled four hours in difficult public transportation to be here this morning, and will sleep on a concrete floor tonight to be here tomorrow. They melt my tired selfish heart, and as we began a time of worship to begin our first training day in Sri Lanka I hear the words "Oh Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder..." My favorite hymn.  It's the hymn I like to sing to Him when my soul is singing. It was appropriate to sing it today in Colombo.






Then the rains fell again. In buckets. While we were driving up very curvy mountain roads. We stopped again at the Pinnawella Elephant Orphanage. No elephants tried to kill me this time. Then on up the mountain, more rain. I wanted to e-mail and ask for prayer, but it was the middle of the night at home. We are 11 and a half hours ahead of Oklahoma. But, the Lord heard my prayers (I may have been the only one nervous), and we arrived in Kandy safe and sound. Kandy is an ancient city in Sri Lanka. It was the capital of the Kandyan Empire. It is a holiday today for Buddhists and this is an important place for them as one of Buddha's teeth was brought to this place after his cremation and they have built a very large temple for it making this a sacred place for them. We were not allowed to see the tooth. 





This guy thought we were all there to see him.



After an overnight stay with friends in Kandy we were driven to Nuwara Eliya. The word beautiful just doesn't work to describe this area where the tea plantations cover the mountains here in Sri Lanka. We visited a tea factory and sipped tea where King Charles sipped tea once last year. It is called Mackwoods. I have a very important friend, whose middle name is Mack, that I have collected a new Christmas ornament from here to add others I have begun collecting for her. I bet Prince Charles picked one up for his tree, too. We stayed at a Swedish Mission House built many many years ago. It's one of those places that my memories of it will make me grow in fondness for it. Creaky old wood and smell, a wonderful cook, and mosquitoes that stung (bit?) my face 4 times. It was very cold, but with 5 blankets I was able to stay warm through our nights there. The drive into the little town where our next training was held was scary at times, but our drivers were very compassionate toward our occasional quiet scream or gasp. The trainings there were wonderful. Our Hope Center is working hard to offer hope and help to their community. They invited me to share the Sunday morning message. To a crowd of about 300 I was able to share about having a transformed life through applying God's Word to our life. Putting on the new self and practicing. The words "not by might, not by power, but by His Spirit" went through my mind and heart constantly. God is faithful, He will do what He promises through us. Right before I stepped up to share the message another familiar (to me) song of worship began to play...Give Thanks. You may or may not have heard of this song, but I have. And of all the songs in the whole wide world they would sing in this little community high in the mountains of Sri Lanka tea country they picked that one...God was reminding me of his presence through this song. I laughed out loud when they began to play it. When I was a freshman at East Jr. High, Mrs. Green assigned this song to me to sing at our state competition. I would play the piano and sing this song over and over to practice. I maybe can carry a tune, but I am not a singer...I got a low score for my performance at the state comp...but the song is forever ingrained in my memory. I remember how nervous I was for that competition, because I knew I was not a technical singer. I was nervous Sunday morning, too.  Nervous to stand before these people and speak His name.  He gave me a little gift of getting out of my own head and reminding me how big he is. That song. 24 years later standing there listening to our Sri Lanka friends sing it. Either that was "what a coincidence," or that was "our God is a mighty God." I know what I have chosen to believe. So I stepped up and shared the message He sent me to share. He was my confidence. I love how He does that.




Give Thanks


After church we drove nearly 4 hours on probably the most uncomfortable drive of my life. :) I was hanging on to the van through the open window for most of the trip. I was fascinated by the sights and sounds and smells as we drove through a cloud in the mountains, I was tossed around like a rag doll with no seat belt in the back of a van, and we only saw one rescue operation happening for a truck that had gone over the side. No big deal. They told us that doesn't happen very often. OK. Don't look to the right or to the left...just keep my eyes on Him. We made it. I sit right now in a fairly large city in Sri Lanka. When we first walked in last night and we met the director again, whom I met last January at an earlier training and she began to immediately cry. She is so thankful for this ministry. Through her tears she told us stories of how God has begun changing lives through the ministry of this Hope Center, and she asked us to tell June Hunt how much she loves her and prays for her everyday. She is so thankful for how helpful this ministry has been as she is loving her community and giving Hope to those around her. Me, too. She was worth the drive. 






One more sleep, and we start the 7 hour drive, 4 hour wait in the airport, 4 hour fight, 1 hour layover, 16 hour flight, 3 hour layover, 2 hour flight then 20 minute drive home with one of my best friends who will be at the airport waiting for me. Thanks Tiff. You are always worth the drive, too.

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I'm not sure which are my real memories, and which memories are there from pictures...but either way I remember my great-grandma Hannah.  As a little kid I remember thinking she is very old and we need to be careful around her.  I remember her soft voice, her square jawline and that she always wore a hairnet over her silver hair that was arranged in waves on her head. She had pointy glasses that even in the 80's looked like vintage wear.  I remember her as quiet.  I remember seeing how my grandma Bonnie treated her and thinking grandma really loves her mom.

The home she and grandpa Monroe lived in still looked like a homestead in their little town of Nelagoney that really didn't look like a town anymore.  Both were pieces of Oklahoma history almost untouched by the progress of time. It was a tiny house.  I remember drinking milk out of bottles from her refrigerator and eating some of her commodity cheese; going out to look at the pigs across the fence, getting chased around by geese (or maybe they were ducks?) and eating pecans out of shells sitting in the doorway of one of their sheds with grandpa all before I was 7 or 8 years old.  I don't have many memories with Hannah and Monroe, but the ones I have seem to come with sounds and smells and feelings.  They are dusty like the Osage County road with a lot of cattle guards that led to their little house. The memories smell like Thanksgiving to me, and they kind of whisper like both of their sweet soft great-grandparent sounding voices.  I feel a deep respect when I think of them.

For the past two weeks I've been part of training events in foreign lands. Some lands that look as protected from time as Hannah and Monroe's home in Oklahoma. After I left home a few weeks ago my mom posted this picture a relative had found and recently given to my grandma Bonnie. This is Hannah. 


She is around age 14. We have never seen a picture of her this young. As I have been sharing with people again in these trainings about seeing themselves through God's eyes, her eyes in this picture just kept coming back to my thoughts, and I kept going back to look at her face and study them until I finally made her picture the lock screen on my phone. I wonder how Hannah saw herself through those eyes? How was she affected by the eyes that viewed her, and how did she pass that on. 


Hannah Ellen Golden Robertson grew up the daughter of a very abusive man from a long line of outlaws, and a very faith-filled woman from a long line of preachers. Although she never shared specifics, she shared enough for us to know she suffered abuse in her early life. But then, Monroe saw her through his eyes, and after marrying around age 15, Hannah went from a home of uncertainty to a home she would share with him for over 60 years.  She raised a houseful of laughing, tender-hearted kids who honored and loved her.  She took the heritage of her mom, Ida's faith; and did not pass on her dad's abuse.  From the stories I've heard she had a strong will to obey and honor God; one she passed on to my grandma Bonnie, and one my family has been blessed, guided and protected by.  There have been many strong and tender women and many protective and devoted men who have come from Hannah and Monroe and their sons and daughters: Leroy, Leora, Bonnie, Kendall, Wayne, Jean and Albert.  

After a long day of being driven in the pouring rain on narrow winding roads up a mountain I've never been on before, I'm sitting in the home of friends on the other side of the world from Hannah and Monroe's little homestead, and I just wanted to share a little bit of her --whose face I can't get over -- and thank God for His protection of her heart and her faith.  I have come to learn not everyone makes it through as Hannah did.  The faith of her children is a testimony to God's faithfulness to bless the generations who came before her and to the woman of great character behind those eyes. 

Here is one of my forever favorite pictures.  This is how I remember them.  Even if I didn't know them I think I would love this picture.  It was taken after sharing a lifetime together, celebrating their 60th wedding anniversary.  


Hannah passed away about a year before Monroe did.  He was in the hospital for several days before he died and was unable to speak.  He knew his last day was near, but he still remembered an important date that was coming up soon.  He asked for a pen and piece of paper. In writing as soft as his sweet voice we could read the words his shaky letters spelled:  "Hannah and Monroe anniversary in heaven."  It didn't get any sweeter than Monroe's love for Hannah.

I have liked having her memory and her picture with me on this trip. I have carried her through three countries now, and we have one more to go before we start back home.
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