"If you want to go quickly, go alone. If you want to go far, go together." - African proverb

The fourth Sunday of the month in my childhood Methodist church in Mondovi, Wisconsin, was "mission Sunday." I bugged my parents for an extra nickel those Sundays to place in the green felt wooden collection plate we kids took turns passing around. I imagined kids like me in faraway places like Eau Claire (25 miles away), Minneapolis (100 miles away) or Africa (so far away it was another world) receiving help from our small coins. I'm not sure what it was about the plight of others that stirred my five year old mind. I surely didn't realize then that giving to others is very much a gift we give ourselves as well.

At one point, in my morbid phase where I wrote wretched little poems like "I Threw a Dead Flower Away Today by Jane Rutschow, age 7" (Yes, I still have it!) I imagined I would die in an elephant stampede. I think this period of death-by-elephant happened after watching Elizabeth Taylor in Elephant Walk. The plot made no sense to me but I remember the elephants stampeding through the compound. I digress. Even the thought of being crushed by an elephant didn't diminish the lure of Africa.

In college, I considered joining the Peace Corp with Africa on my mind. But then I met my husband and everything changed. Years later, a second husband with whom I'm celebrating 39 years together this year, and I began sponsoring a child in Burundi, a southeast African land-locked country, very small and very poor. Several from our Presbyterian church also sponsor Burundi kids for $35 a month through World Vision and where $100 at Christmas bought a large piece of tin to cover Violette's family roof, new clothes for the child and her parents; tools, and other items in an amazing array spread before them in the pictures they sent.

Our interest and our faith community's conversations with African Road, an NGO out of Portland, OR merged earlier this year. We've been chatting with our pastoral team about the issue of identity cards for the indigenous people of Burundi known as the Batwa. When you read this, I'll be winging my way East over the continent stopping after 9 hours in Amsterdam and then on for another 8 hours to Rigali, Rwanda. After two days there, we'll board a flight of 30 minutes into Bujumbura, Burundi, a small country bordered by Democratic Republic of Congo, Tanzania, Uganda and Rwanda. We'll then drive with interpreters and the only Batwa member of parliament out into the countryside to meet villagers and the group we'll be supporting through the purchase of identity cards.

In Africa, if you do not have an ID, you cannot marry, be educated, receive medical care, vote. You are a non-person. The Batwa had lived for generations in the rain forests. But when rebels began staging events there and when the Government decided to protect the Silverback Gorillas who shared the rain forest, the people were moved out but not given those cards.

Yet, for $10-12 dollars, or the price of three cappuccinos, we can purchase those cards for a Batwa person.

We won't be going on safari though we're told that one day we'll make a river trip and might see a hippo. ("Very dangerous," a friend told me. The hippos.) It'll be a bit of a rugged trip at times out into the bush. It's relatively safe. We are further from Eboli when we're in Burundi than when we are in Oregon and that case in Texas. That's how large the African continent is. Our contact with African Road has made many trips and she is traveling with us.

Jerry has been doing so well that he's happy staying at home, alone with the dogs. He usually does the cooking so he's set to manage this separation. He has definitely chosen to go in spirit with me on the "far journey" though.

Last Sunday, (last Sunday of the month after all these years!) five us of (two going to Uganda on a medical mission) and the three of us from First Presbyterian Church, Bend, heading for Burundi, picked out clear glass stones to take with us. We did this in front of the church lifting the smooth stones from the baptismal font as we are "going out together." It reminded me of that little collection plate where we gave our coins. I gave then never imagining that one day I would truly take with me the prayers and hopes of many that we will seek justice in far away Africa. Somewhere along the journey, we will leave the stone as a reminder that we leave portions of our hearts there and many prayers and good wishes for the people we encounter. We're asked to stay in the present moment on this journey, trusting, knowing that when we leave that stone we'll also be leaving a part of ourselves.

I'll bring pictures and stories back and let you know where my stone and your good wishes and prayers continue to bring nurture to others.