Apologies for last week’s silence. As I was finishing my last work email about 2am on Wednesday morning (2pm NZT) I realised I’d missed my BF post and with a morning flight in less than eight hours and bags still to be packed I simply couldn’t muster anything worth publishing for eternity on BF.

As for this week, well I have no excuse. I’m sitting in Nairobi, Kenya on my mandatory week of r’n'r. Indeed, sending work emails at 2am is possibly an indication as to why the r’n'r is mandatory. So what have I to share at this point, with a little more perspective and less chaos?

My last Sunday back in Kinshasa I stole away a brief moment of calm, sitting on the grass bank overlooking the Congo River out towards Brazzaville, the capital of the neighouring republic. Armed with my little bible, journal, pen and iPod I took some time to mull over the Word for that Sunday. Within 20 minutes maybe, I was approached by a young Congolese guy. Unfortunately, thanks to the regular unsolicited attention that being a young white female can attract in a place like this, I falter just slightly longer than I would if someone were to similarly approach me in Auckland’s Albert Park on a Sunday afternoon.

Fortunately it doesn’t show too much. I take out my earplugs and politely greet the young man. “I noticed you were meditating on God’s Word. And I wanted to share with you how rare it is to see a ‘blanche’ who believes.” To avoid the risk of mis-quoting, I summarise…his basic point was a) you’re rare, a white believer (quite blatantly) and b) where did you get your faith? We continue to discuss for a few minutes, and frankly it’s nice to have someone who remotely appreciates why on earth this might be of importance to me.

In the end, the young man turns out to be quite the evangelical and is pleased to know that I’m familiar with a life in the Spirit…however when he asks for my number, I give some bizarre excuse of it being a security breach to give out my work number without authorisation. He claims to understand entirely…phew. While I’ve no doubt of his sincerity of faith, and it brings me joy to share with him, the regularity of unwanted attention means even the most honorably intentioned young man will have trouble getting my contacts. He settles for me taking his contacts with the promise to be in touch if I feel like coming to check out ‘his church’ one Sunday morning.

To go back to his question however, where did I get my faith? This is a question that I’ve had posed several times…by those with faith themselves and those without alike. My only response is gift. I couldn’t possibly muster up myself by willpower alone to keep coming back despite the various tumbles and veering off track, spiritually speaking. There’s gotta be a substantial dose of grace in there…and the simple but stunning fact that I was created to know and love my Creator…

To change subjects…I realised this week the power of honesty with dear friends when it comes to faith matters. I was in touch with a very dear and longtime friend over Christmas…a friend with whom I passed my adolescence and with whom I grew in a teenage faith. We’ve taken very different paths since then but despite time and distance, a bond still remains that we shared such formative years.

Faith wise, our paths have gone very differently, but despite all detours, we both still recognise how restless our hearts remain when they’re distant from His Love.

In our New Year correspondence, it became clear that she is in a real time of struggle, of deep crisis in several areas of life – family, work, and not least of which, love. It was one of the first times in my life where I felt a direct responsibility to be, in all loving charity, very honest and clear as to where my values lay on the questions of love and marriage. I’ve never said to anyone close to me “I’m sorry, but if you keep going down this track [in this case living together with her boyfriend, considering marriage] I cannot honestly support you…and to do true justice towards you as a real friend, I’m going to tell you that straight up.” I sent a reply to her email, with a sense of trepidation…would this be the end? Surely not…our hearts are made to recognise truth. In any case, I love her too much that I’d be kicking myself eternally if I landed up in the pews at her wedding wishing I’d said something earlier.

Last night I received a response from her…three weeks later. My fears were entirely unfounded – “I wept as I read your message. Where can I get a copy of JPII’s theology of the body?” she asked. The struggle is not over yet, but her heart is clearly open to the movement of the Spirit, recognising the lack of peace in her current way of life. She already searched high and low for a copy of Chris West’s commentary…here is a soul serious about getting back to the One Who Keeps On Loving. And as for my part, I breathe a sigh of relief that God granted me in that moment the grace and courage to witness to someone very close to me at the risk of losing their longstanding friendship. Of course our hearts rejoice when we hear the testimony of anyone coming back to the Lord, but it’s a very special joy to watch someone who you have known and loved across years and distance seek to rediscover the peace and Truth that surpasses understanding.