Journey to the other side of the Universe

Late last year I undertook an epic journey to another universe.... it was big and confronting and left me lost for words... HOWEVER, thanks to a little poke from a precious friend i shall call 'the evil monkey'... i have found the words that were lost.

The epic journey started last January with the death of my dear, eccentric, God fearing mother in Nigeria. As we (my sister and I) couldn't be there for the funeral, we began planning a pilgrimage of sorts to take place in November, to coincide with what would have been Mums' 60th birthday. Now i'm a pretty boring kind of person, i never travelled as a young adult, I just finished high school, went to uni, got married at 20 and had baby Exacto at 21.... this was to be my first big adventure.

LONDON CALLING: The standard route to Nigeria is via London and as I have a hospitable cousin living there i decided to stop a few days. i was not expecting to enjoy it much as I have little interest in Royals and tourist traps.Well... London is THE most beautiful place I have ever seen.... I did see it late Autumn when it was putting on a spectacular show...

I also was Blown Away by a visit to Westminster Abbey for an intimate sung matins service... the history and significance to church history made me feel quite emotional, though i had to stifle a laugh when i imagined our own church leadership team up front in their boardies and flip flops.

OUT OF AFRICA:If London was beautiful, Nigeria was breathtaking. With it's own brand of beauty it was like stepping into an alternate reality. A reality where a family of 8 in a one bedroom shack are thankful for their blessings and the cleanest water source available for locals (those lucky enough to have access to running water) is not seen fit for the consumption of western visitors.
I just don't have the words to tell you how much it hurt to see the streets lined with destitute sometimes skeletal people vying to sell whatever they can find that might fetch a price and feed their family that day. I can't describe the hopelessness in a clinic with 50 destitute Muslim women queueing to see the one white American RN who will provide perhaps the only medical care they will ever recieve...  I can't tell you how my heart weeps for them.

That said I also can't describe to you the beauty of a tall proud Nigerian lady wearing bright (but always perfectly coordinated) traditional dress, with a baby tucked in to her wrappers, carrying an impossible bundle on her head. They weave amongst the roadside stalls as if participants in a choreographed dance, without ever faltering or losing their rhythm. i couldn't bear to photograph one of them as it almost seemed sacrelidge.

As i mentioned at the outset this was not merely a sightseeing tour. i was there for a reason. Meeting some of the people who were so precious to Mum was one of the highlights of the trip. In particular hearing the fond way Mum was remembered by both missionaries and locals was music to my soul. Three precious people who featured often in Mums stories were Kauna and Esther and Buji. The joy of meeting them in person and the warmth with which they recieved me and shared their memories is not something i will soon forget.

one final significant moment in the trip was visiting Mums' burial place. Although i had a bit of a 'moment' as i said goodbye to her there, i am convinved that it is not where she resides now, but only what remains of her earthly life. The anniversary of her death approaches in days, at which time i will wish her a very joyful first birthday as a perfectly healed and restored creation, worshipping in the presence of her creator, saviour and very best friend.