Sometimes...there are no words to describe the beauty and the majesty of God. These are pictures from Mount Sinai. Yes, we climbed it. We rode camels 2/3's of the way up in the pitch black and i just stared in awe at the scene around me. At the sky that was glowing with a display of stars unlike anything i have ever seen before. I looked around at the majestic mountain all around and tried to truly take it all in. Understand what had occured in this very place so long ago. The path that Moses took, the trek the Israelities made. The very steps they once took out of Egypt, i was taking today. We began the trek at 2:30am, and for atleast 2 hours i just sat on my camel (not gonna lie...i was a little nervous to be on a camel all alone that was climbing up a mountain in the pitch black darkness of night, but hey maybe i'm braver than i thought!) and the tears just seemed to keep flowing. It was so real. God is so real. I dont know any other way to describe it. I wished i had pictures or video to capture the journey up at night, but i realized i'd much rather just have it in my heart. Me and God had some serious talks...discussed some big things...i needed peace, guidance, wisdom...and i think he needed me to be in a place where i could just sit and listen. It was the most amazing night of my life.

We did end up climbing up on foot for the last 2 hours or so. Originally we were told it would be about 800 steps. Well, by steps they meant loose jagged rocks, and by loose jagged rocks they really just meant the mountain. And of course i was ill prepared with my cheap 10 dollar "oh-i'm-just-going-to-leave-these-in-egypt" sneakers that were not exactly great for climbing. And taking into consideration that i haven't worked out in about 23 years and have zero mountain climbing experience, Mount Sinai in the dark was a bit of a challenge ;) But it was fun, despite the occasional embarassing slip or tumble! My 9 layers made for good padding ;) We made it up to the very top to watch the sunrise. Talk about amazing!!! Just sitting admiring the most breathtaking scenery ever. I felt like nothing could ever compare. By the morning we were pretty tired and thought it would be nice to take camels back down, despite warnings that it wouldn't be a great idea. What could be so bad? Well my friends, i would soon find out! While the ride up was not terribly uncomfortable (just a little nerve-wracking wondering how this camel just wouldn't wander off the cliff since no one was guiding it and there wasn't a light in sight!), the ride down was incrediblyyyyy the opposite of anything remotely resembling comfort. Not to mention my camel got away and was a bit of a speedster...so i learned really quickly had to control the camel on my own. The Beduoin man who owned the camel made zero effort to chase after us. He just laughed as i got further and further away! And of course demanded a tip at the end (ohhh, egyptians!!). But me and Thundercat (my camel) had a good time. I took some pretty funny video footage of myself trying to navigate my downhill journey on Sinai. Over all, an awesome experience. I would recommend it to a friend ;)

and for all my history/Bible buffs...we took a hike into one of the valleys (where we spent the night with a beduoin family who played music for us, gave us tea, etc... totally cool experience!) the day before the climb up Sinai. Along the way we say the rock which is believed to be the rock that the water came out of when Moses struck it. There are 12 fissures in it, said to be for the 12 tribes of Israel. Also, we saw what is thought to be the burning bush. The bush was uprooted a very long time ago, and replanted in a nearby area, but inside of the holy room of the St. Katherine's monastery on the mountain, where we had stayed. So that was very very cool to see. We stood by the Red Sea, and i imagined what it must have been like to experience the power of God part such a mighty body of water.

Just in general, our trip to Sinai was an amazing experience. It far outdid the African Safari :)

I'm heading to New York in less than a week! I don't know whether i am really happy or really sad! I suppose i can be a mixture of both. I am nervous that i wont fit everything into the three(ish) weeks i have at home. I am also nervous a little about having to adjust to another brand new culture. Bangladesh will be a completely different experience. And it will be longer. And it will be more taxing physically (monsoons, heat, etc...) and i'll be the only American/foreigner working there. So it will probably a season of "lonliness" or "solitude", which isn't necessarily a bad thing... I'll be living in a compound on the church grounds. But I am welcoming the experience with open arms. When I start feeling weak, small, and overwhelmed at the task i have undertaken...i just think about what a blessing it is to be able to do such work. And what an honor and priviledge it is. It is so humbling to feel like God has the confidence in me to let me do it. Sometimes I want to ask Him what on earth He was thinking. But lately I have been learning that life is a wonderful gift, and every day is an opportunity to do all that you can to honor God, to better the world around you, to enrich your life, to feed your soul, to take in the beauty of the people and places around you, to learn something new, to make someone smile, to bring light where there is darkness....


enjoy the Sinai pictures(and other assorted pictures....Orphanage Day, pictures from the office, Sunday School, scenery, etc...). Keep your eyes peeled for the Pyramids and the Sphinx. Those will be on the next post :)

ps- Everyone is welcome to come over my house next tuesday night. I'd love to see you :)

It's interesting what a little perspective can do.

Last week we travelled down to Assuit to visit the orphanage again for a few days (http://members.tripod.com/ltokids/index2.htm). This time we didn't make the long drive through the desert, we took a train for about 6 hours. It gave me a lot of time to just stare out the window and lose myself in my thoughts. Sometimes I think just sitting and having "thinking time" can do us a wealth of good. I realized a lot about what had been on my heart and in my mind lately, but i hadn't had the time to really address any of it.

I was just looking out taking in all that my eyes saw. Village after village...just a few people and their donkeys. Just a few little "shelters" made of cement, or sometimes just pieces of scrap metal thrown together. Sometimes the scenery would go on for what seemed like forever without any kind of "market" or anything coming into sight. I'd just see a few men toiling away in their fields, or women at the banks of the dirty river (creek?) gathering water in jugs they would carry back on the tops of their heads, with a flawless balance i've never seen any place else. Hours and hours of the same scene. People who seemingly had nothing but the clothes on their backs, the water/bread above their heads, and the donkeys underneath them.

Why am i different? Why do I not have to live this way? Could I live this way? If I was asked to forfeit what I have at home, could i do it? Or more importantly...could i do it with a happy heart? Sometimes it seems like the greatest sacrifice one could ever be asked to make. Why do i always think i am "better" than something like this? That somehow, i am worth more. That i can do more, that my life is more significant. Is it, though? Does God love me more? Does He hear us and love us according to our "status" in society? Of course the right answer is "no", but really if we are honest with ourselves, that is the attitude we carry around in our hearts.

As the hours elapsed, i just began to feel an overwhelming sense of the breadth of God's love. The infinite span it reaches. That the Lord of the Universe takes the time to be present in (seemingly) the middle of nowhere, among people that have no knowledge of Him whatsoever. His love has no bounds. It has no alternate agenda. It is not earned, and it is not given to us in a measure of what we have done for Him. I found myself in awe yet again at the love of God. At its simplicity and its purity. There is nothing I could have done to deserve it. The people outside of my train window...they are known and loved by God. It's not just the hairs on *my* head that are numbered, it's not just *my* tears that He knows, it's not just *my* cries that He hears, it's not just *my* life that He has a plan for, and it is not just *me* that He calls His child. It is them as well. This love extends to the most remote of villages, to the most lost of people. To the people that live here that stop everything to pray 5 times a day. That live under the oppression, fear, and shame that comes along with much of the fundamental Islamic faith. That still slaughter animals and smear the blood everywhere as a sacrifice to their god. That commit horrid crimes in the name of glorifying their deity. That use all of their resources to wipe out those that actively follow Christ. These people that in our eyes are so undeserving of this kind of love. Or these people that in our eyes are so easily forgotten. Or so easily overlooked. Or simply just not worth the time. But yet, He loves them in the same measure He loves me or you. Irrespective of who we are, what we do, and what we have. This love reaches every corner, knows every heart. Knows the innermost cries of those who will never have a voice. Who will never be "reached" by someone. He loves those who He knows do not love Him in return. He loves those that persecute His church. Can any other Love do such things? And how many times do I forget that I am just as undeserving of this Love as the lowest of the lowest? At times I just cannot wrap my mind fully around it.

I pray that you ... may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ (Ephesians 3:17-19)


I am sad that my time in Egypt is quickly coming to an end. It took me some time to realize how dear this place and these people have become to my heart. Sometimes while you are in the middle of running around and doing what seems like a million things, you don't always take the time to reflect. You tend to be so busy trying to impact everything around you, you don't realize how much the people and places have impacted *you*. There is still much to be done here, and work to be finished, but i guess the reality that this assignment is not permanent has begun to set in.

I feel that i am at such crossroads trying to decipher what the next season of life holds for me. At one point it all seemed so clear and straight forward. It was logical and safe. But as i've been here and thus removed from life back in the states, i suppose my outlook and priorities have been changing. I think I have shifted my values a bit. Things I used to think were so important do not seem so important now. And things I was willing to leave behind or simply forget, do not seem so easy to part with. My personal definition of "happy" and "successful" have also shifted course.

It's not so much about what you do, as it is about who you are.

I am tired of trying to be defined by what i do. Or by what degrees I've earned. Or by who knows what about it all. I want to be defined by who I am. By the Love i have inside. No occupation, no accomplishment, no letters after my name could make me feel as honored as i feel when i know i am making a lasting difference in someones life. Love and compassion can not compete with worldly success, academic achievement, fame, etc... Often, this is such a difficult thing to admit.

Oh, it's been quite the journey thus far.






















[these are just some pictures from kozzika andnthe library last week... I can't find my little cord to get my newest pictures on the computer...but once i do i'll put them on here. Note the huge amount of stairs we have to climb to get to the clinic....and also note the POLLUTION in that one picture. Welcome to Egypt, my friends!]

Today we visited an area called Warrack, and did another sunday school. These are some of my favorite times. Of course nothing ever runs smoothly (the pastor was away and forgot to tell them we were coming, we didn't know how to get there, we left the puppets home and had to wait for David to bring them all the way from our office, etc...) but it's just so fun. I love the kids, they are sooo sweet and excited. To kill time while we waited for our puppets, we kept singing songs with them. There's no fancy soundtracks or big screens like we have back home, but there's something about the Arabic sunday school songs that i just love. There are so many fun handmotions and stuff. And they get so into it, it's great! Everyone laughs at me because i'm the one on our little team who is really into it, but it reminds me of when i was young. We definately sang Father Abraham and I've got the joy joy joy... But anyway, it's just a great time. Sometimes, my favorite part is just driving down the tiny tiny roads and looking out into the village and observing the way of life that is still so foreign to me. The simplicity of life. The joy of being free from the burdens we carry in the states. The emptiness in their eyes as they worship a false god that has turned a deaf ear to their cries. The hopelessness that takes over their countenance and makes some of them appear like zombies. The shining eyes of the kids we sing with, talk to, hug, shake hands with, etc... I'm always so torn between desiring the simplicity of having just what i need to survive, and wanting to weep for the multitudes that are just so lost in every possible way one could be lost. I don't know if i'll ever quite find the balance.

On Thursday we had the monthly feeding program at the clinic where mothers bring their children to recieve free formula/food. To qualify, the children have to be significantly underweight. The come in, we check them to see if they are growing, improving in health, etc... Talk about sad sights. There was one little girl who was over a year old but looked no bigger than a few months old. She still couldn't sit up on her own. She was being raised by a grandmother who looked like she was definately not capable of providing proper care. (she's in the picture with my friend Jen...she's the teeny 14 month old in the red clothes). I've never seen children so underdeveloped due to malnutrition. When we tried to feed her some mashed bananas in milk, she just couldn't do it. It's sobering to realize that when a child is never fed, the don't understand the concept of eating - and they have a hard time trying to figure out what to do when you stick something in their mouth. Other parents were taking the formula given to help save their child's life, and sold it on the street for profit. One young girl had a horrible case of Rickets. I just can't imagine being a mother and not feeding my children. Purposely. Because i don't feel like putting in the time, or because i'd rather sell their food. It just pains me that it has to happen to the children. That they have to be the ones to suffer. That even if they get an opportunity later on in life to become something, they will carry the deformities, the sicknesses, the permanent damage they acquired here as young kids.

As not to end on a sad note, we had a really fun night tonight. Our group of friends went to downtown Cairo and saw 'the Holiday' in the movie theatre. I'd seen it before in NY but aw it's such a cute story. Great for a cry ;) Then we walked around the mall for a little while and then drove to eat some egyptian food. The real authentic way, too... all of us sat outside on the sidewalk at one big table. i have to say, as risky as it can be....i love eating food from the street here. I love being immersed in the culture as much as possible. Tomorrow i think we'll visit the international bookfair downtown, hopefully pick up some good arabic books to help me learn. Thank goodness for days off. I have big plans to sleep in.

Oh....and if anyone's interested, here is a link to the video i sent to church for the missions banquet. Check it out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1haifcv6UU4

Love to all,
Nicole

Our truck made the turn off the main road and into Kozzika. Although we make the journey numerous times each week to hold the clinic, the sights never fail to captivate me. It's as if we've entered a completely new land, spanning as far as the eye can see - all views showing the same scene. One unfinished brick building after another, along dusty dry dirt roads that bear no names. The children run towards the car, some smiling and waving, others banging and throwing stones, sticks, whatever they can find. Other children are walking down the road kicking empty propane tanks, the most popular toy here. None of them attend school. Up until now i knew them only as my patients at the clinic. I knew nothing of what life consisted of for them outside of the exam room. I knew nothing about them except what they would tell me about how their children have worms, lice, cuts, infections, etc.. I examine them, give them some medication, and we go our separate ways. Today I was going to a home. We were going to visit some of the ladies and just spend time with them.

We walked down the dusty road through little alleyways, past the men who stand with crates of extremely old-looking vegetables...past the crowds gathered to pick up bread from the men making it in a little cement cubby... And finally to a pile of broken bricks and garbage leading into a small alley that was home to 4 families. They all ran out to greet us, the kids running up grabbing our hands and giving endless hugs and kisses, happily shouting "izzayik!" and pulling us inside to the one-room they all share. The room was dark, no light but the sun trickling in through the holes in the roof made from tin and wood sheets layed out over some beams. The floors were hard dirt, with a small rug in the middle that had almost become indistinguishable from the rest of the ground. We sat on something that felt like a hollow wooden box, covered with an old sheet. to the left and right were piles of dirty clothes that would be worn and reworn by whoever happened to get their hands on them. 5 or 6 women ran in to sit on the floor in front of us, bringing their children. More and more children seemed to pile in to the already crowded area. They pushed and shoved and hit each other as they normally do to get to where we were handing out bananas. The women gathered around our feet as we tried to speak with them. We examined some of the sick children and gave one of the older boys some money to get to the pharmacy and buy some medications. One young girl (younger than me) came in with her newborn baby. I held the baby for over an hour...this little child who hadn't even been on this earth more than a couple of months. Since diapers are a luxury most in kozzika do not have, the baby had gone to the bathroom a number of times in her little pants, and nothing was changed. There was sweat seeping through the layers of clothes she had on, and spit up/milk/other stuff caked on her shirt smelling as if it had been there for days. There was no food to be seen, no running water to be found, and doubtfully any electricity. There was a saddness that was unexplainable, and a simplistic life i just can not fathom. It seems all they wanted (women and children alike) was for someone to sit with them, pay attention to them, and make them feel like they mattered. That someone in this world knew who they were. That they were important enough to be remembered and acknowledged. As i was holding the little baby, i kept looking into her eyes and telling her that she was going to rise up and conquer all of this. That she was going to get an education, that she would become healthy and strong. That she would learn how to read and write and be an independant thinker. That she would come to an understanding that she is an important, beautiful girl who has the whole world open before her. I told her not to settle here, not to believe the lies that this is it. While I know she couldn't understand me, i wanted with all my heart to believe that she could. And even more than that, i wanted to believe it myself. I wanted to believe that there was a way to save this town. And the billions of people all over the world that live like this. That lay their heads down to sleep each night on dirt floors, that don't know when the next time they'll eat will be, that watch their children get deathly ill and can not afford treatment for them. That have to live with the guilt or helplessness of not being able to provide for their children. That have no hope. I began to see that this was a city of living dead. There is something in their eyes that cry out "even though i am still breathing, i am already dead". As we drove away something was just so impressed on my heart. Who will make a change here? If I don't do it, how do i know someone else will? But where can I start? And what can i do? It is such a big need, it is such an endless fight, and i am such a little person. Really, there is much i have to come to terms with. I have no idea how long I will have the priviledge of being with the women and children of Kozzika. But there is a world full of people who's circumstances are the same. They need hope, they need to feel loved. It is so hard to tell them about God's love, because it is illegal. They could get killed for converting from Islam, and we could be arrested for speaking about it. So it becomes what I think is really the true testimony of the faith - letting your actions speak louder than your words. It is more of a challenge to have your demeanor and your character reflect God. It makes you accountable to be so full of the character of Jesus that it becomes evident that there is something that sets you apart - something they must have. Something greater than money, material goods, etc... Each day is truly a life changing, eye-opening experience here. I wish often that there could be someone else from home to come join me on this wonderful adventure. I wish I could convey the feeling of being able to be here...it far outweighs anything life in America has to offer.


On all other fronts, things are going exceptionally well. As always, there is never a dull moment. This weekend we took a trip up to Alexandria and had great time just taking in the sites, eating the freshest fish the Mediterranean has to offer, and just sitting on the sea enjoying the company of our newly formed family. Anddd, after much much research and failed attempts at locating it - we finally scouted out the first Starbucks to open in all of Africa. Turns out the grand opening was this week so at around midnight (after being up since 5am!) we made the trek out by metro (subway) and taxi...and had a wonderful taste of home :) This week we had a surprise party for Jen, with lots of great laughs (i am officially known here for my very important position as uniform manager for marching band!), great food, and great friends. Book club on Friday was great...we have a wonderful time just getting to know each girl individually. Arabic classes are coming along and each week i can see that we are making great strides.

Jen and I sat down today and made an outline of all the things we want to accomplish this month. We've got lots of projects to work on for all sorts of things, the clinic, health classes, book club, sunday school, and other various things. Should be very, very, busy. This weekend the two of us are climbing up Mount Sinai on camels! You begin the trek at about 3am and get to the top in time to watch the sun rise. It is really incredible to be in a land where there is such history. I am not sure what I am going to feel when i stand at the place where it is believe Moses recieved the 10 commandments. It is so surreal at times. In Alexandria i thought much about what the land looked like years ago when Alexander the Great made his way through.

Okay, better get to bed. Early day tomorrow. I pray all is well with everyone back home.

Much love,
Nicole

here are some pictures from Alexandria: