Now I am a single, strong, independent, opinionated woman, used to my personal space and freedom, being able to participate as an equal and having my say in all sorts of settings. And yet, without realising what was happening, and without any effort on my part (it was ALL the grace of God), I was happily sleeping on my friends’ lounge room floor, having my days just ‘happen’, and able to willingly spend hours listening to conversations in Turkish (usually) that I had no hope of participating in. There was the occasional rise of rebellion in my spirit, but not significant or often, and I would have had difficulty coping for much longer, but I thank God for His grace, and the lesson, as well as Kathryn and David and Aydin for making space and time for me in their life.

The trip was a real endurance test, particularly the 14 hour flight from Dubai. I felt absolutely awful when I landed and got worse in the few days after. Now, more than three weeks after I first got sick and FIVE courses of antibiotics (I didn’t complete them all) I’m still not 100% but getting there. Mind you, the recovery might have been a bit quicker if I didn’t have this work trip to Melbourne, but I’ve been able to rest in between appointments and I head back to Sydney tonight. 

Haven’t been this crook in a long, long time and have had more than enough of doctors and medicine for some time!! Ugh. But thanks for all those who’ve been lifting me in prayer. The trip to Bulgaria, plus being sick, has meant a delay in really getting into the work of 2009, but I’m just about ready to get stuck into things now.

After seven weeks of living another culture (as much as I could, without the language) it felt really weird last night wandering around in this tourist part of Istanbul. As a tourist I’m on the outside looking in, taking a few photos, buying a few trinkets and thinking that I know something of Turkey, but that’s so shallow, so incomplete. hmmm does that make sense? After living overseas for so long, I don’t know that I could ever feel like I’ve ‘seen’ a country unless I’ve taken up residence and done the ‘ordinary’ things alongside the locals, for a few weeks at least. I’m not really interested in visiting the touristy places, they quickly bore more. Even in China I would much rather go and visit my friends and students in their homes. Oh dear, what does this mean for my future travel? I guess I won’t be able to go anywhere for less than a couple of months.

But for now, maybe, just maybe, the rain has eased a little, or is that just wishful thinking?

First there was cups of coffee, food and conversation to be had. Aydin was kept happy with a cartoon channel on the TV. When two young ladies came in for a facial, N told Kathryn that she had a ‘captive’ audience, so tell them about Jesus. I’d actually had the very same thought. Anyway, Kathryn did; actually she told them a story from Genesis, which one of the girls was able to repeat to her. It turns out the other girl had secretly gone to the believers meeting for a time but didn’t now for some reason. Made me want all the more to become adept at storytelling. It also comforted me (in a morbid kind of way) to see that this young Millet girl obviously found the facial waxing just about as difficult as I did, and in fact, in the end even said ‘enough auntie’.

Time was marching on, darkness was approaching and Kathryn said we’d need to be gone by 5:30pm. Okay. But first we had to sample a bit of the family’s dinner of beans. It wasn’t bad. I thought the waxing was going to be all forgotten, but nnnooooo!

“It will only take a minute!”

The wax was heated and this time I got to lie on the bed. With strict, last minute instructions to Kathryn about the LIMITED area that I wanted done, I lay down and steeled myself to not make any noise. I didn’t. But my resolve was severely tested when the wax started creeping further and further up my cheek and under my nose. Ahem! Kathryn tried to tell her. And six times or so in the same spot?! It was enough to test anyone’s endurance, but I managed. I couldn’t stop the teary eyes, but I had passed the test and we left with prayer together, many hugs and assurances that IF God ever brought me back to Bulgaria, I would be sure to visit. 

Kathryn managed to escape the experience, again.

Yesterday afternoon was the big occasion. First we each had our eyebrows plucked … lying on the floor with our head on N’s knee! It was certainly painful, and she had my neck in an uncomfortable position, but otherwise things went smoothly. Then the waxing! The wax was held over a hot plate to soften, then I was ordered to lie down again, this time with the comfort of a pillow. I knew it would hurt of course, and it did, but I’d psyched myself up for it and coped with a stream verbal banter (with Aydin, who sat on the floor beside me, intrigued) interspersed with heart-felt ‘ouches’. On and on and on and on and on it went, wax on my forehead, on my cheeks, neck, jaw, lips, nose … surely she’d done every mm of my face! …. but no … wax up BOTH my nostrils AT ONCE!!! I’d reached the end of my ability to endure, sat up and said ‘enough’, not realising how much I was actually crying. Of course N was bewildered, and distraught to have me in tears, plus confused because of all the noise I’d been making. Kathryn didn’t know, but the Millet women have every mm of their face waxed (willingly) every 10 days or so, without a sound! Oh dear, what a faux pas! Of course the cultural blunder made me more upset and N still had shiny eyes, looking most concerned for me, when we had to head home as it was after dark. Although Kathryn got out of the waxing yesterday, I don’t think she’ll be able to avoid it forever

There were photos, but not for public exhibition :p

it was a great delight to call in on a couple of childrens’ outreach meetings, in two different villages. In each meeting there were about 15-20 very enthusiastic kids. I especially loved their singing and they were really surprised when I knew the songs but in English (because they were translations). And hearing the kids bring their prayer and praises to God was very special too. The meetings were run most capably by an older teenage girl, but Kathryn was asked to give an impromptu talk in one meeting.

Unfortunately, it seems, many of these kids will not continue to walk as believers, especially after they marry, in their early teens. Pray for them.

30 min later we had two new tyres on the front and were heading down the road to see a very excited Hassan and Emine, What a miracle, praise God.

Since it’s been a fine, relatively warm day, Kathryn, Aydin and I climbed the stairs to check it out this afternoon.  Quite impressive and a good opportunity to take a few moments to pray over the city, for breakthrough in the spiritual realm. It’s apparently not an easy city.

I’ve been mulling a bit since; what does this kind of situation mean for missions, for church planting, for long or short term? I think it most definitely means that mature believers are needed who can disciple and teach in the people’s heart language, in the context of indigenous church!

Kathryn and I were visiting her great aunt who is a believer, then her mum and dad (also believers) arrived and we spent more time sharing and praying, and later Delia came with her grandma. I was delighted when I realised I’d put two Australian souvenir pencils in my jacket pocket – there was another little girl there too – and chuffed to see her enjoy it, but what really took my breath away was when this little 3 or 4 year old went over to Kathryn and asked that she lay hands on her and pray. Of course we did that, especially since both Delia and her mum (who’s 6 months pregnant) have bronchitus. But then I had a feeling that there was an element of us being something special spiritually just because we are foreigners – Kathryn said quite possibly … ugh, ugh, ugh!