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{ Deeper Story: Her Dreads }
Her dreads sway around her shoulders as she walks – and when she twirls her headdress of black ropes spins like a merri-go-round, whipping through the air with whimsy. I’m often mesmerized by her...
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{ Deeper Story: how to melt swords into plowshares }
We were hosting a garden party at our home in Burundi this summer – the kind with drummers, dancers, a d.j. and a chef. Most all the guests mingled outside, holding fanta bottles and balancing plates...
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{ Deeper Story: Until Now }
The news has been good. In the last four years of working alongside our Batwa friends each mother has safely delivered her child; each baby announced her arrival with a hearty cry into the Burundian...
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{ Deeper Family: He Sits With Women }
He sits with women. When trouble comes, the mamas and widows gather at the edges of peril and my husband finds them. He joins them. Last week flood waters rushed in overnight killing some of the most...
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{ A Deeper Story: Miriam’s Drum }
The Hebrews danced to the emphatic beating of the drums across the Red Sea, leaving behind the brickyards forever. They sang “The horse and rider YHWH has thrown into the sea!” as they moved beyond...
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Thinking of Brian…
Brian McLaren is a good friend, the kind you can dive deep into conversation with poolside in Burundi or on the sandy beaches of Florida. He is the person I reach out to when I get mired in a...
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Mother’s Day in Burundi
Photo Credit: Jerome Delay // The Associated Press On Mother’s Day the women of Burundi took to the streets. Recent weeks have brought conflict onto these very streets – protesters, police, tear gas,...
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Broken-Down Burundi
Burundi, today I turned my face away from you. Every word I heard sounded like a rumor, not a fact. My head ached as it spun in a sea of unconfirmed reports from a multi-lingual press corps. And glad...
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African Grandparents
It wasn’t too hard to rouse the excitement in my parents regarding the impending adoption of our son – they were adoptive parents themselves, after all. Their transition into adoptive grandparents...
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I See you, Burundi
We landed after thirty-plus hours in transit. Jostling carry-on bags and excitement, we made it to the bottom of the stairs, stepping foot into the tarmac in the pitch dark. No lights anywhere. The...
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Footwashing
Matara is a land of milk and honey, a land filled with God’s abundance. Claude and I went to visit our friends there wanting to spend time in their homes and surveying the bounty together. It was a...
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What’s Next
On a Sunday morning one January in 2013, the central marketplace in Burundi exploded into flames. By the day’s end the hub of the local economy melted, ending the livelihood of too many. Dozens of...
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Hard Work and the New City
It’s hard to imagine newness in the shadow of destruction. In the days after 9/11, we suffered disorientation. How could we think beyond the pile of smoldering rubble, the loss of life and the new...
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