I need Africa more than Africa needs me.

"It is Africa that has taught me that possessions in my hands
will never be as valuable as peace in my heart.
It’s just one of this continent’s many lessons.
I came here to serve and yet I’ve found that I have so much to learn,
and Africa, with all its need, has much to teach me."

At an orphanage in nowhere, Uganda, I fell in love with a girl named Margret Harriet. From the moment we arrived, she found a home on my lap, and there she stayed for almost 4 straight days. Her answer to pretty much any question was "Jesus". There was a current of peace (and a little bit of shyness) running through this child. During a scary thunderstorm one night, she found me in a crowd of children and took my hand with a strength you should not find in a child.

When I left the orphanage on our last day, Margret gave me this letter. Printed on the envelope, it said "To Christine. Jesus is good all the time." The letter read:

Dear Christine,

How are you? Are you fine? For me am not fine because I miss you so much because your going back. I pray for you Christine. I love you so much and I pray for you every day and every night. I love you in Jesus name. I love Africa. God is good all the time and all the time God is good.

Good bye, good bye Christine.

From,
Margret Harriet

That letter is one of my prized possessions, and I still cannot get Margret's face or sweet voice out of my mind...because it took a child at an orphanage somewhere in Uganda to remind me that God is good. Even through losing your parents and having one pair of shoes and eating the exact same meal of maize three times a day and sleeping in a concrete room. He is good. If that is the only reason I went to Africa, it would be enough.

I need Africa more than Africa needs me.

Three years ago, I decided to be a part of Mocha Club and African Leadership because I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to do something outwardly significant with my 40 work hours a week. And have there been lives saved, children fed, wells dug, schools built? Yes...but beneath all my to-do lists, conference calls, and emails, a stark truth has undoubtedly risen to the surface: God does not need me to save Africa.

How self-centered, how prideful of me to think otherwise.

God will carry out His purpose for Africa, and I have the privilege of being a part of it. Once I embraced this freeing truth, something happened in my heart - and I saw that Africa was actually changing me.

My work is more joyful now, and I find myself looking fervently for the beauty and wisdom of the African people, rather than seeing them as people who deserve my pity.

When I traveled to Kenya and Uganda in the fall of 2006, the time when I met Margret Harriet, I thought I was going to serve and love the African people in a way they'd never seen. But after stepping foot on that continent's soil, the raw reality of humanity stared me in the face. I looked into its eyes, and it was oddly beautiful. I walked through places like the Kibera slums, one of the filthiest, most shocking places I had ever been in my entire life, and at the end of each day, all I wanted to do was go back. I had already forgotten the putrid smells, the human waste running down the street and the piles of burning trash....and all I could remember were the children who loved going to school and played joyfully in the schoolyard...the men and women who served their communities faithfully...the HIV-positive ladies who sold their handmade jewelry to make even the smallest amount of income.

The people I encountered in Africa experienced intense challenges, loss, and pain, yet they demonstrated even more intense courage, hope, and joy. By all logical reasons, they shouldn't have. I thought I was going to teach them, but they taught me. They are triumphant. They are heroes. I want to be like them.

So why do I need Africa?

Without Africa, I act as if I am the author of my own life. I need Africa to teach me surrender.

Without Africa, I feel I deserve certain "things" - a wonderful house, a big happy family, freedom, and enough money to buy whatever I want. I need Africa to teach me that possessions do not equal happiness, as I so often want them to.

Without Africa, it's easy for me to be selfish with my time. I need Africa to soften my stone heart - not just to those across the ocean, but to those in my own community.

Does Africa still need our efforts, our time, our money, our service? Absolutely. It is a continent in need - politically, socially, and economically. There are sickening, unfathomable things that happen there everyday. But to think that's all Africa is, is a tragedy. To think that we in America "are so much better off" is a tragedy. Africa is not just a place of despair - Africa is JOY. Africa is HOPE. Africa is Margret Harriet and Prince and Peter Diing and beautiful Portia…

"Portia" by Jeremy Cowart

You don't have to go to Africa to see it. Read the stories on our blog. Look at the photos. In these places, you will experience people who do not have much, but who have everything.

You can also start a new conversation about Africa. Share your comments, and even blog about it yourself - why do you need Africa more than Africa needs you?

And then come back here December 1st to see what's next...

Embracing 31.

It's been a memorable 31st birthday so far, and it's only 11:30am. To me, a perfect birthday includes wonderful things like a trip to the farm... a new comfy tshirt...a bouquet of coral and magenta roses...and homemade pumpkin pie for breakfast. Hmm, pumpkin pie for breakfast? Don't mind if I do!

I awoke this morning, the first of my 32nd year, wrapped like a cocoon inside my down comforter. My husband had already risen, turned on the space heater, and was clinking things around in the kitchen. That's one of my favorite feelings...waking up early and hearing activity in the kitchen, the rustling of socks on the hardwood floors. As I rolled out of bed with eyes still plastered shut, I pondered the first important question of the day, Is my flat-ironed hair from my two-day-old haircut still salvageable? I walked groggily to the bathroom mirror to examine. Cowlick-free? CHECK. Kink-free? CHECK. Still shiny, yet not greasy? CHECK. I fluffed it a little and headed for the kitchen. It's going to be a good day.


Steven had already whipped up some eggs with ground turkey and brewed us some steaming hot Enfusia in the French Press. Ahhh. You probably never thought you'd hear this from the Baileys, but we haven't brewed coffee in months. Enfusia is now our comforting drink of choice...in the morning, in the afternoon, in the evening. We can't get enough of it, especially with a bit of Vanilla Creme Stevia and coconut milk. Mmmm.

Armed with travel mugs, we left the house at 7:30am to embrace the chilly morning and head out to the farm where we go every Saturday to pick up fresh eggs, cream, milk, and other goodies like lettuce so beautiful it could be a bouquet. Full Quiver Farm is about an hour outside of Dallas in the small town of Kemp, TX...which is really not much of a town unless you count the smattering of antique shacks on the side of the road, "Hotties Tanning Salon," a Pennsylvania Dutch store, and some gas stations. But I so look forward to this mini-road trip each week, because it always teaches me more about simplicity...priorities...perspective...all things I'd like to learn more about as I celebrate another year of life.

The farm is operated by a sweet Mennonite family - a mother, Debbie, a father, Mike, and their nine children. Needless to say, with having such a large family and living off whatever they can grow on their patch of Texas land, they know a little bit about the simple life.

As soon as we pull up the gravel drive, Debbie always emerges out of her little farmhouse in her long dress, hair tied back simply in a covered bun, the wooden screen door clapping behind her. She is always full of vibrancy and joy as she talks about her family and the farm. For example, I've learned that their only reason to go to the grocery store is for salt, pepper, and oatmeal. And that they tried to go on a family vacation once, but they all couldn't wait to get back home to their farm and sit together in the pasture around a warm fire. This morning, she told me about her family's upcoming Thanksgiving feast (the same exact menu every year) and that there will be 37 guests with all her children and grandchildren. I love how I always leave the farm with more of a desire to live simply and confidently. And don't get me wrong, I love her happy chickens and their happy eggs, too.

Steven and I loaded up the coolers with all the farm-fresh goodies and headed home. We drove back holding hands with my head on his shoulder, and we talked about the cookout we're having tonight with some friends that will include the first backyard bonfire of the season. It's 45 degrees and overcast in Dallas and we're taking advantage of it. As we drove, I thought about all I had already experienced this day. What more could I want? I have everything I need.

When we returned home, the morning was still young, and I talked on the phone to my dear Suz, who sent me a book of inspirational quotes called Live Good for my birthday. I've been reading many of them over and over, but this one will not leave me:

"I am not afraid...I was born to do this."
~ Joan of Arc

There is so much more I want to say about this quote, but for now, I'll just say I've been pondering it, and it's deeply challenged me. What was I born to do? Today at 31, I feel as young as I did at 21. I feel energized when I think about the future and the days ahead. And more and more, as God shows me my purpose here, I'm shedding some of that fear. I'm more willing to live simply because it's not as scary to give things up. I'm finding that as I embrace the years, the years embrace me.

Autumn path.

For anyone who ever thought New Jersey was the "armpit of America," take a look at this...

Ken Lockwood Gorge in Clinton, NJ

Autumn steps.

We just returned from a delightful trip to enjoy autumn in the northeast. I can't wait to share more about the trip! But until then, here are a few places my feet have touched...

How I feel today...

photo by Erin Fletcher Photography

You're Invited!

If you live even remotely close to Dallas, TX, then you need to come hang out with us at "The Real Food Story" Nutrition Conference at SMU, Oct. 17th & 18th. It's completely free and open to the public, and it's being presented by (my husband's company) The Movement Dallas!

D Magazine and the Dallas Morning News are already buzzing about it! I'm so proud of Steven for all he's helping make happen, and I'm excited to see how people's lives are changed and helped through this conference.

Some of the topics that will be covered...

• losing weight and getting lean
• balancing hormones
• improving digestion
• sleep recovery strategies
• gaining energy without stimulants

I don't know a single person who wouldn't be curious about at least one of those...so I hope to see you there if you can make it!

A sercy.

Have you ever heard of a sercy? Well, neither had I, until I stumbled upon the blog Purple Bottle, where a blog writer named TruPeach posted about it. She had heard about it on another blog and was paying the kindness forward by posting it to her blog readers.

A sercy (also called a "cerci") is kinda like a little, unexpected gift. Another description I found: "It might be something you really liked – like your favorite gum, candy, ice cream or some small trinket. Usually it was something that you never asked for...but was often given out of friendship."

How delightful.

On TruPeach's blog, she said she would send a "sercy" to the first 3 people who commented on her blog that day, and then those 3 people, upon receiving their sercy in the mail, would then "pay it forward" by offering a sercy on their blogs. Well, I was the first commenter!

You won't believe what TruPeach sent me in the mail...this adorable homemade garland! What a thoughtful gift from a complete stranger! I've already hung it in my office!


So, now as promised, I am doing my part by offering you a sercy...

"Pay it Forward Exchange: Here are the rules: I agree to send something fun, cute, and nice to the first 3 blog owners who post a comment on this entry. In turn, those three will post this information and pick 3 people they want to send something to and so on. Unfortunately, due to postage costs, I can only pay it forward within the United States. If you are interested in participating, be one of the first 3 blog owners to leave a comment!

You have to promise that you will then post about this on your blog, link to me, and then send something to the first three people who comment on your blog so that this continues. When I have the first three to comment I will email you a request for your shipping address and I will send out something that I hope will make you smile!"

Just being.

On my lunch break today, I went out on the front porch and realized the sun was a bit cooler than usual. I sat on the top step, wrapped my arms around my knees and decided to "just be" for a little while, something I rarely do during the workday.

With only myself to blame, I have let many of my days become so fast-faced that my work hours have flown by in a state of frenzy, my lunch "breaks" spent scarfing down food at my desk and working against some imaginary clock that no one is enforcing but me. Shushing my husband when he tries to talk to me as I'm typing an email is not OK.

In addition, the stress of this overwork has started to manifest itself in my life physically, and that is also not OK. I can no longer afford not to stop...not to rest...not to slow down. What am I trying to prove anyway? What is the point of working myself so hard in the name of serving....that it hinders my ability to serve? It doesn't even make sense. I don't think it serves God for me not to take care of this body or to keep fueling a twisted pride that I am better than someone else for doing more.

As I sit here today in the early fall sun, I'm glad I stopped. And like a little reward, I'm noticing some things I would have missed otherwise...

...More and more buds on the roses and hollyhocks...




...The click-click-clicking of a cricket somewhere in the grass.

...Slowly swishing leaves high up in the trees, showing a few beginning tinges of yellow.

...Twisting vines of the morning glories that have claimed the front porch railing...


...An airplane high up in the sky, framed perfectly between the limbs of our baby oak tree (look closely)...


...My shadow in the sun...


...The gorgeous inspiration on these pages in my new Coastal Living that I just discovered in the mailbox...

I think I'll sit out here a little bit longer. Paint my toes. Finish reading my magazine. And hopefully return back inside more centered, more peaceful, more aware, more ready to live life in a way that honors God and cares for myself in a healthy way.

Welcome, Autumn.

autumn in central park, 2006

Today is the Autumnal Equinox, one of two times a year when the day and night are of equal length. I'm not sure what that means, besides the fact that cool weather is coming. Yes, cool weather is coming to the land of Texas which this summer dried to a crisp. Here, Autumn, not Spring, is when we emerge from our hibernation. We get to drink morning tea+coffee not encased in an air-conditioned home, but on the back steps gazing into the yard as the squirrels scamper high in the trees. Autumn is when we get to take a walk in the middle of day without breaking a sweat. Autumn is when we dust off our firepit and start gathering stray branches to use as kindling.

There are exactly 37 days until we leave on our annual Autumn Trip to New Jersey & New York City! Oh, the memories I have there at every season, but especially this time of year...sipping a warm drink while walking up Park Avenue to Central Park. Enjoying a slow afternoon on a patio in the East Village. Layering on a jacket (and perhaps a light scarf) as evening sets in. Heading off to dinner in the coolness. This year, we'll get to take a true vacation for an entire week...no computers, no meetings, no schedule. We'll get to see our dear friends and New Yorkers The Sullivans. We might even take a drive to Connecticut and stop at roadside apple farms. I look forward to walking the leaf-carpeted sidewalks of my hometown, helping my dad bag leaves in the back yard, sitting on a bench and just staring, meditating on the change of seasons, and simultaneously, the change in me.

"Everyone must take time to sit and watch the leaves turn."
~Elizabeth Lawrence

The more I slow down my life, the more I realize we were meant to live with the rhythms of the earth. There is a reason we have seasons, and oh, how I need this Autumn to refresh me and remind me...that if not even one leaf goes untouched by God, then He can surely take care of me.

A good morning.

"We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us,

that they may see their own images, and so live for a moment with a clearer,

perhaps even a fiercer life,

life because of our quiet." ~ yeats

breakfast:
hot Enfusia with coconut milk, stevia, and cinnamon
Ezekiel 4:9 cinnamon raisin bread with almond butter and local raw honey
organic Fuji apple slices

reading:
sabbath by wayne muller

Sky.

manhattan beach, california

Places I Want To Go: Black Forest, Germany

Maybe it's my extreme case of wanderlust lately, but I've been thinking a lot about this terrifically diverse and expansive world we live in, and how many places I've yet to see...places I've read about in travel magazines or heard about on Rick Steves' podcast or from others who've visited there. Since I don't have the luxury of traveling much right now, I decided to add a little series to my blog: "Places I Want To Go," so you can read along and travel with me to these places I hope to visit in my lifetime. We'll find out what is uniquely special about each place and how it goes along with my theme, dreams of simple life. And one day, I'll hopefully write about each of them from personal experience!

So I invite you to come along with me to my first location...the Black Forest of Germany.

I talk a lot about my Italian heritage, but what I haven't shared much about is my other half, my mother's side of the family, which is English and German. My grandmother's family is from the Black Forest region of Germany. Besides having wonderful cherry cake, I've heard this area of Europe is pristine and unspoiled with multitudes of adorable cottages and castles amidst towering evergreens, mild summer temperatures and chilly, snowy winters. Yes, please.

Why is it called the 'Black' Forest (or in German, 'Schwarzwald')? From a distance, the large concentration of pine trees actually looks black. The nearby mountains also cast their shadows over the valleys and make it appear darker. However, there is nothing dark about it. The town at the center of the Black Forest, Freudenstadt, claims to actually receive more hours of sunshine than any other town in the nation! Here's Freudenstadt...


When I think of visiting the Black Forest, I picture a cold, snowy winter (how winter is supposed to be). I dream of preparing for Christmas by putting up a real fir tree in a cozy living room. Going for hikes in the forest just out the back door wearing mittens and a warm coat and boots. Drinking hot tea or coffee in a warm cottage kitchen by a hearth with hearty soup cooking on the stove.

I wonder what it was like for my great-grandmother in her humble home? Did she like to always have a kettle going in the fall and winter, like me? Did she enjoy a cool summer by walking outside barefoot or perhaps sitting under a tree to read a book? Most likely, yes. In the Black Forest, summer temperatures are in the 60s and 70s, and in the winter, 20s and 30s! How could you not love this place?







I also discovered that the Black Forest is known for something else: the traditional cuckoo-clock! Growing up, we had a cuckoo-clock in the living room that I was fascinated with, but I never realized that its creation had a personal history for me. Apparently there, you can visit cuckoo-clock factories and see this age-old German craft in action!

But the enchantment of the Black Forest doesn't end there...

"The forest itself is an area of heavily wooded mountains and verdant valleys. If you love nature, you will absolutely adore the Black Forest in Germany. The land and villages look relatively unchanged, as if you've stepped back in time, and when you walk through the forest, you can get an insight into what ancient Germany might have been like. Some of the houses you'll find in the villages are over three hundred years old. In addition, the Black Forest possesses a rich mythological tradition, where werewolves and witches haunt the darkness, so watch out. Fortunately, there are dwarves that live within the woods who like to help people."

There you have it. Not only perfect weather, but also dwarves.

And finally, there's Lake Titisee...wow...



Let's go for Christmas one year, OK? And then we'll return in spring to frolic in the grass and see everything bloom a luscious green. Yes, I'd like to explore my German heritage more, and the Black Forest is the perfect place to begin.

So I'm obsessed with Picnik...

Thanks to Marisa, I have now spent many hours of fun on Picnik, altering my photos!

Sabbath Rest.

"When we live without listening to the timing of things, when we live and work in twenty-four-hour shifts without rest – we are on war time, mobilized for battle. Yes, we are strong and capable people, we can work without stopping, faster and faster, electric lights making artificial day so the whole machine can labor without ceasing. But remember: No living thing lives like this. There are greater rhythms, seasons and hormonal cycles and sunsets and moonrises and great movements of seas and stars. We are part of the creation story, subject to all its laws and rhythms."

- Sabbath by Wayne Muller

One of the most life-giving trips I've ever taken is our 1 year anniversary trip to New Mexico, because on this trip, I learned the meaning of rest. Our dear friends had given us access to their cabin in a valley in a tiny town that's barely on the map called Las Mochas. As we drove 11 hours through the dry, flat plains of west Texas and then into the green, winding landscape of New Mexico, we felt our souls take a deep breath in anticipation of a week totally removed from busy, modern life.

When we arrived, we saw that there were a few houses scattered nearby, but we didn't encounter a soul. The cabin was nestled between stately evergreens with its backyard emptying into a creek with unspoiled rushing water. On the other side of the creek, the forest trail led to fields of wildflowers.


After unloading our bags in the house, we jumped back in the car to drive to nearby Taos, a lovely, artsy little town, and strolled wide-eyed through Cid's Food Market marveling at all the unique locally-grown, organic food items, throwing them into our cart one-by-one. Juicy tomatoes, ripe peaches. Homemade granola. Sweet potatoes. And plenty of free-range eggs. We returned to the cabin, unloaded our bounty of food, and covered all the clocks with tape.


For the next week, we had no concept of time. We lived by the rhythms of nature. We went to bed when we were tired. We used only candlelight in the house after dark. We awoke not by alarm, but when our bodies rose naturally. We spent our days photographing hummingbirds, reading, and wading in the creek. The days were so long. And we rested.



Fast-forward two years, and I wonder what happened to the "me" who went on that peaceful trip in New Mexico. I so long to find her again.

A few days ago, I was sitting at my desk at the end of a long week, and in the middle of typing what seemed like my thousandth email, I suddenly burst into tears. I just sat there and sobbed for several minutes until I felt that I had cried out all my frustrations, sadness and lost-ness that had been building up inside for awhile. I couldn't articulate exactly what was making me cry, though. It felt as if simple things were throwing me over the edge. My computer freezing. Adding another thing to my mounting to-do list. Picking clothes up off the floor. I thought about calling a friend to ask for help, but I honestly didn't know what to say. I didn't know what exactly it was. So I just dried my eyes and got back to work.

This weekend, I'm reading my book, Sabbath by Wayne Muller. It's one of those books I want to read and re-read in my life and buy copies to have on hand to give to everyone I know. It says...

"Without rest, we respond from a survival mode, where everything we meet assumes a terrifying prominence...when we are moving faster and faster, every encounter, every detail inflates in importance, everything seems more urgent than it really is, and we react with sloppy desperation."

That explains the emotional breakdown over socks being left on the floor.

"There is a South American tribe that went on a long march, day after day, when all of a sudden they would stop walking, sit down to rest for a while, then make camp for a couple of days before going any farther. They explained that they needed the time to rest so that their souls could catch up with them."

That was what I needed. I needed to give my soul a chance to catch up with me.

I'm learning what it means for me personally to have a "Sabbath rest." My husband could be surrounded by 20 of his closest friends 24 hours a day and be utterly peaceful and at rest. That is a rarity for me, and I often feel drained after being with people constantly. This is a battle within, because I love having our home open to people, I truly do. But if it's constant…one busy weekend leading into a busy work week and back to a busy, social weekend, I start to crumble and cave into myself. In fact, I utterly fall apart.

With my work, the problem is that I feel that I'm always capable of more. I've heard many people in "ministry" jobs say the same thing: I can do more, so if I can, why shouldn't I? This is not how we were meant to function as creatures. We were meant to listen to the rhythms set before us by nature, not constantly push ourselves against nature. Sitting at a desk all day with hands and head and neck in stationary postion. Shoveling in food on a 25 minute lunch break only to quickly get back to work again. Staying up all hours of the night and waking up to a blaring alarm.

"If busyness can become a kind of violence, we do not have to stretch our perception very far to see that Sabbath time – effortless, nourishing rest – can invite a healing of this violence. When we consecrate a time to listen to the still, small voices, we remember the root of inner wisdom that makes work fruitful. We remember from where we are most deeply nourished, and see more clearly the shape and texture of the people and things before us."

This weekend is a Sabbath Weekend. What I'm learning in this book is that there are many, many ways to celebrate a Sabbath, and it doesn't always have to be on Saturday or Sunday. We can have "Sabbath moments" for a few minutes or "Sabbath walks" for thirty minutes. The point is to celebrate God's goodness and provision and being. So far this weekend, I have sipped a lot of hot tea, propped myself on the couch with my feet resting on my husband's lap, and listened to the sounds of the Olympics humming in the background. I've sat on a big fluffy bed and read and gazed out the window. I took a walk in the neighborhood.

And amazingly, I feel much more prepared for Monday.

I admit, I still don't know how to balance my intense desire to achieve and accomplish, particularly in a work setting. But I'm still reading and learning and reading and learning, and I look forward to gaining more clarity as I go.

"Like a path through the forest, Sabbath creates a marker for ourselves so, if we are lost, we can find our way back to our center."

As for this gorgeous, peaceful place, I hope to return one day...


...but for now, I've got to find rest in the midst of this crazy city. The point is taking my hand off the plow, knowing I can't do it all. Knowing that God can and will work through me, that His strength will be the life that courses through my veins. And that by keeping my focus on the rhythms He gave us in this world, I can truly find rest.

"Sabbath is a way of being in time where we remember who we are, remember what we know, and taste the gifts of spirit and eternity."

All quotes from Sabbath by Wayne Muller.