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Reflections on the journey by Diane

Over two months spent in South Africa and nearly reaching that date that used to seem far off which has snuck up and become “2 more weeks”. Two more weeks until I drive to the airport, stand in lines, move through security with hundreds of others in the quiet chaos of removing our shoes, belts, coats, scarves, convince guards we aren’t smuggling bombs, wait to board, wait for takeoff and then stare out a tiny window as if to say goodbye to yet another place I’ve fallen in love with. About the time the stewardess rolls down the aisle with the drink cart I’ll have entered into reflection about what has just happened in my life and I will probably take out my journal and begin writing frantically, trying to capture what I am feeling right then and there, wondering as I write if I’ve done any good and why I can’t be everywhere in the world all at once. Then a steady, holy whisper will interrupt my thoughts and remind me that there is a bigger story that I am a part of and that whatever experience I have just had is a fish in a story about an ocean. I will order a cranberry juice and try to convince Steve to order a ginger ale and propose that we share our drinks, combine them and make spritzers. He will probably agree and as we concoct delicious fizzy goodness I will look at him and know that the gears in his head are turning and that the same tension that is escalating in my heart is shared in his. He will take my hand and we’ll recline our seat backs a little bit, breath deeply and silently

prepare our hearts for the next part of the journey.

By that point I’ll probably have closed my eyes, put my head back against the pillows I’ve collected from the empty seats around me and be on to thinking about how romantic Africa is; it’s tall mountains named after the wild game that roam it’s valleys, the breathtaking pinks, purples and reds in its skies at dusk, the energy you feel as you pass by a group of men singing and dancing on the sidewalk or the respect you feel when you see a woman balancing groceries on her head, a baby strapped to her back, knowing she has probably walked for miles and she probably has miles more to go. Yes, there is an inexplicable vibrance here that seems to be encouraged by the steady sound of tides rolling in from the Indian and the Atlantic as if to say over and over “life is here, hope is here.” I don’t think I am the only one who romanticizes Africa. If you live in the west it is generally portrayed as a place where HIV and AIDS victims suffer hopelessly, where swollen bellied babies with big, sad eyes stand in line for rations at feeding schemes, infomercials about why we should donate 25 cents a day for eighteen months so that a family can have clean water and an excuse for why American kids have to finish their dinner.

Ironically I’ll finish the last part of that thought just in time to refuse a scary meal in a tin tray. Steve will dig in, tell me it’s not as bad as it looks and put all of the tomatoes from his mini-side-salad in his empty coffee cup and hand them to me. Such a thoughtful husband. I’ll eat my lycopene and my mind will go back to

Africa. It’s not to say that the generalizations about Africa aren’t true, yes, your 25 cents a day will probably change someone’s life forever. But the thoughts that will be swirling in my brain will be of a life I don’t quite understand. About why I was born in a place where

most of the swollen bellies are caused by overabundance and not malnutrition. About if I am convincing myself that I am actually doing some good in the world. I’ll search my brain and try to get to the core of what is causing the pangs in my chest. I’ll take out my headphones and listen to some music to slow my heart down. I’ll fall asleep and wake up eleven songs later. I’ll know that the generalizations about Africa only become scary and wrong when we begin to think in the context of ourselves as the fixers of the world and the hungry people with the dark sad eyes as the ones who need to be fixed. Yet when we take on the humble mindset of servants to all, we realize that there are infinite connections between me and you and the kids whose faces flash for 30 seconds on the screens in our living rooms. I need to be redeemed just as much as him, her and you. I’ll take out my journal again and my favorite black pen but this time I won’t write frantically. I will write a three word prayer, “peace.be.still”. I will exhale deeply and open my window to realize I am flying high above the clouds...

I

A Fish in a Story About an Ocean...

Photo Above: Over two million people call the shanty town of Khayelitsha “home”.

A Voice for the VoicelessSteve & Diane Schallert - December 2009 Newsletter{ }

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Things of Note & Prayer Requests...I We have long been looking and praying for ways to make music a part of our work on behalf of the voiceless seeing as it was

such a huge part of Steve’s life for so many years. This past weekend really opened the doors for new possibilities. There is a YWAM center here in Cape Town called Media Village which, similarly to PhotogenX, uses art and media tools to create awareness and fight against injustice issues. They have a production company and make a lot of documentaries that have a fairly wide distribution circle (especially in Southern Africa). Last Saturday Steve was invited to create a soundtrack for a short film about the lives of a number of individuals living and struggling in Capricorn. Many of the songs on the soundtrack are rewrites of old classic hymns and liberation songs and there are a few of Steve’s own mixed in. Please pray that the film can communicate loudly of the need for strong social reforms and economic justice and can help in the struggle for so many of our dear friends who call Capricorn home. This coming weekend Steve will be back at Media Village finishing production as well as recording more songs for them to use on upcoming projects.

I When we leave South Africa the long-term YWAMers here will continue mentoring the kids that we’ve been working with in

Capricorn. As we write this there are seven of the young boys that Steve has been discipling sprawled out on the carpet of our small flat watching a movie (the girls in Diane’s group get their turn on Monday). They have truly become like family as they have shared our home and our hearts over these past months. It is a really difficult internal struggle to think of saying goodbye to them, but as Diane said above our time here is indeed “a fish within a story about an ocean”. We know that we have played a small role in the much bigger picture of these kids’ journey with our Lord. Please pray for their broken homes to be mended and for strong parental figures. Pray for their education and safety. Pray they can somehow stay out of the gang world. Pray that the words “you are HIV positive” will not become part of their realities. Pray that the words of truth that we spoke over them and that the hugs that we gave would linger long after we are gone. We trust that Jesus has his arms wrapped tightly around them and will continue to walk with them on their journey of faith.

I We are coming home for three weeks over Christmas!!! We will be in New Jersey from December 18th - 27th and in Michigan

from December 28th - January 4th before heading on to Egypt. We are going to try our hardest to relax and spend much needed family time, but we would love to see as many of you as possible. Don’t hesitate to get in touch if you would like to get together. We are so blessed by you! Love, Steve & Diane I

“Let us hold unwaveringly

to the hope that we profess for

He who promises is faithful.”

Hebrews 10:23

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“May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in the world so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.” - St. Francis of Assisi

Current Monthly Partnership

$818 - per month

Monthly Partnership Goal

$1,100 - per month

Photo Above: !e boys in Steve’s mentor group challenge him to a game of soccer. Photos Above: Life in Capricorn.

{Communicate}

Steve: projectlove1.0@gmail.comwww.iamthestruggle.blogspot.com

Diane: diane.schallert@gmail.comwww.dianeschallert.blogspot.com

PHOTOGENX.NET