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	<title>Jennifer Hudson &#187; Africa</title>
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	<description>socially inspired, story teller. missions minded, bible lover.</description>
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		<title>Mind Your Head</title>
		<link>http://jennblog.com/post/584</link>
		<comments>http://jennblog.com/post/584#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 28 Jan 2010 22:28:21 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Jennifer</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Africa]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[spiritual]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[calling]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[dreams]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[missions]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://jennblog.com/?p=584</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Lately Africa has been tugging on my heart strings.  Maybe it&#8217;s all the breath taking images of Haiti.  They remind me of a life beyond my big southern world.  I confess, many times, I&#8217;m the girl, who changes the channel at the commercials of the hurting and homeless, avoiding articles about charities [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://jennblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/african-sunset.jpg"><img src="http://jennblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/african-sunset-219x300.jpg" alt="" title="african-sunset" width="219" height="300" class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-604" /></a>Lately Africa has been tugging on my heart strings.  Maybe it&#8217;s all the breath taking images of Haiti.  They remind me of a life beyond my big southern world.  I confess, many times, I&#8217;m the girl, who changes the channel at the commercials of the hurting and homeless, avoiding articles about charities and stories of compassion.  Simply, because it grips a place in my heart so deeply that I&#8217;ve mastered the skill of piling all those emotions into the closet of my heart and putting the chair against the doorknob to seal it shut.</p>
<p>On May 1st, 2000 &#8211; I packed my bags and my heart, and I boarded a plane to Johannesburg, South Africa.  When I returned on May 29th, my bags were in hand, but my chest was completely empty&#8230;and soo full at the same time.  At twenty years old, it only took one journey to change my life forever.  For many years I have said that I left my heart there.  The images, the aroma&#8217;s, the sounds in my ears, were all a symphony of sweetness to my soul.  The hurting country somehow helped heal my hurting heart, more than my songs, I believe, ever helped heal them.  I was in that place, a tiny chasm of time, where passion met purpose.  And oh, I&#8217;ve tried to journey there through other ventures&#8230;but nothing quite satisfies.  </p>
<blockquote><p><em>But there is a place where I can go,<br />
that Jesus only knows&#8230;<br />
a place of quiet peace,<br />
of love and perfect stillness.<br />
On my knees, in sweet embrace,<br />
in the chamber of that secret place.<br />
The gentle waves of grace and praises<br />
exchange from the Fathers heart to mine.<br />
At his feet I find my rest, behind the veil<br />
a place where my heart will be made well.</em> </p></blockquote>
<p><a href="http://jennblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/14032423_0285c5c24e.jpg"><img src="http://jennblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/14032423_0285c5c24e-150x150.jpg" alt="" title="14032423_0285c5c24e" width="150" height="150" class="alignright size-thumbnail wp-image-612" /></a>When I stepped that first foot off the plane, walking into Africa, there is a feeling&#8230;nothing to see, nothing to experience, just a feeling&#8230;many have shared&#8230;an overwhelming mixed moment of fullness, and disbelief,  joy and so much more &#8211; deeply indescribable.  And that&#8217;s just the very first step of the journey!  We haven&#8217;t even arrived in the memories of my visits to orphanages or the safari&#8217;s or the cities yet!  The first step was amazing, a moment I will remember forever.</p>
<p>Lately, the &#8216;groaning earth&#8217; has disturbed that fault line inside my heart, to a 7.0-type shaking.  I&#8217;m feeling the beats again, and hearing the songs of children, awakening my heart to childhood dreams.</p>
<p>But ten years later, my slightly more realistic mind tells me that the adventures to the deep may be too far out of reach, and that I should settle back in with my cup of coffee and my wireless internet connection and reach out to them by simply texting those five digits to my favorite charity, and moving on with my day.  I&#8217;ve wrestled with this of late.  Giving or Going.  Which is my part? </p>
<p><a href="http://jennblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/545051612_73cf09ba1f_b.jpg"><img src="http://jennblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/545051612_73cf09ba1f_b.jpg" alt="" title="545051612_73cf09ba1f_b" class="alignright wp-image-619" width="225" height="150"/></a></a>As I sat under the southern hemisphere stars one night during my journey, I asked my Big God a Big question:  How long will it be before I can journey back to this land and this people I have fallen so in love with?  Immediately that voice in my heart gently whispered&#8230;.&#8217;10 years.&#8217;  My heart sank, and I pleaded to have mis-understood.  10 months, 10 weeks, but not 10 years!  I was a woman in love, swept away with a new passion for sharing the Love of Christ to a dark continent.  Nothing else mattered.  No hair, nail or makeup treatment even compared.  And even somehow here we are, at the mark, and my heart is questioning this year, this moment.  Did I make the most of my time?  Am I ready?  Is it really time?</p>
<p>The door to that place of passion in my heart has been closed pretty tightly in the past ten years.  Sitting in a third floor cubicle, expected to place mutual fund trades by market close, pushing away images of big white smiles, and dusty streets.  At a brunch with bosses and new clients, smelling chaffing dish burners and rushing to the hallway, to breathe deeply, as to not cry with memories of the auroma of Africa.</p>
<p>A few nights ago, someone (one of those friends who is usually on the other line talking to Jesus) called me out of the blue, and in the midst of my questioning heart, she spoke to that place deep inside of me.  She said, &#8216;Jennifer, I had the weirdest dream this morning.  (She joined my heart and went on her first Medical Missions trip to Africa last September!)  &#8211; I was IN Africa again, stepping off the plane, and I heard the attendant say &#8216;Mind Yo&#8217;r He-ad&#8217; (as they say in their British/African accents.)&#8221;  &#8211; Instead of our English version &#8220;Watch your feet!&#8221; they say, &#8220;Mind your Head.&#8221;  I have no idea the origin of this little ditty&#8230;but her dream details were like words from my Father in Heaven!  Majestic!  A reminder to me today, to Look up!  Don&#8217;t get bogged down thinking about it.  Just step over, into your dreams!  and &#8212; Mind Your Head!</p>
<p>thanks: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/maybemaq/">maybemaq</a> &#038; <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/benmcleod/">mcleod</a>
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<h1 style="font-size:10px;"><br class="tf_2" /><br class="tf_2" />[[T_F]]<a href="http://www.TraceFusion.com/">Data Leak Prevention &#8211; Data Security Solutions &#8211; Information Theft Protection, Detection and Prevention Software Products</a>tracefusion_signature=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[[T_F]]</h1>
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		<item>
		<title>The Wind Blows..</title>
		<link>http://jennblog.com/post/788</link>
		<comments>http://jennblog.com/post/788#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 07 Apr 2007 18:04:45 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Jennifer</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Africa]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[spiritual]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[the heart]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://jennblog.com/?p=788</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[written 4.7.07 – 2AM
The wind blows across our face and beckons us into the deep
Some move with swift intent, others warn and question-
The journey is far and fast and wide, much to our hearts surprise
We were made with the breath to sustain the distance
We were made with the hope and the promise of dawn
Will we [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>written 4.7.07 – 2AM</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">The wind blows across our face and beckons us into the deep</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Some move with swift intent, others warn and question-</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">The journey is far and fast and wide, much to our hearts surprise</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">We were made with the breath to sustain the distance</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">We were made with the hope and the promise of dawn</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Will we run the race and raise the sails of our journey so steep?</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Will we cower behind the shadow of sleep until the wind is faint and still?</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">How do we know what tomorrow holds?</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">How do we know if the wind is sure?</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">All we can do is watch those around us with wind in their hair</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Their sails set high, courageously passing us by.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Once we rode the sea of adventure,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Once we held onto its spontaneous embrace.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">We flew together, the wind and I, as we glided across the midnight sky.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">The stars shown bright that night, each one brilliant and close –</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Flying across the ocean deep</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">A destination to behold of once mere childhood dreams</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Now finally, walking upon this land where ancient stories linger</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">A smile, the smell, permanent photographs upon the heart</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">- The wind is now in my hair</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">As swiftly as the stars appeared over the journey so great,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">The dawn drew in the final tears and silent memories of late</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">The wind once blew upon my face, but now it’s faint and still.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Will I run the race and raise my sails in another journey so steep?</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Or will I cower behind the shadow of sleep, and watch it pass me by?</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">- The wind is blowing upon my face.</p>
<p>Epilogue:</p>
<p>Tonight I’m up late, again, not sleeping. It’s been almost a year since the spark of creative writing has flowed thru my fingers. When I write in poetry or free style I feel connected and alive. I know this is only the work of the Holy Spirit igniting the spark of anointed arts inside me and that is where I am most complete. I was finishing up another late Saturday night preparing worship and sending out some last minute emails thru myspace. I saw a picture of a girl I went to South Africa with, nearly 7 years ago. The moments I spent in SA are etched on my heart forever, like a tree scared with the hearts of two young lovers. The etching will always be there I believe &#8211; with the smiles, the beautiful faces, the smells, the tastes and the sounds of that place continuously beating thru my soul. I remember flying to South Africa across the midnight sky; the 18 hour journey seemed like one second. The stars were beautiful as I looked out across the ocean somewhere. I was standing in the cockpit, as the captain of that SAA aircraft gave me a tour of the stars &#8211; something I will never be able to do again commercially. I remember the very first steps I took onto the ramp in South Africa, it was very surreal, like a slow motion movie. It was something I had been dreaming of for years. Some days, when I smell chaffer dishes or certain kerosene’s I see the pictures of the faces in my heart and I can feel their dark little hands reaching out to touch my ivory skin. Right now, I know I’m not in position for that wind to sail me back. But in my dreams I’m already there and in my heart I have a buried treasure full of memories.</p>
<p>I saw of my one of my African travel companions tonight that captured the very essence of a powerful woman, a woman who follows the wind, and is ready to run with any movement of the Holy Spirit. She was standing somewhere in India with the most beautiful calm on her face, in only one of her many experiences ministering around the world. I’ve watched her for the past few years and I am amazed by her adventures and her passion for God. She has traveled thru Europe, Dominican, many other countries and now India. Tonight I am inspired by her passion and her journey&#8230;.the journey&#8230;.all of our journeys&#8230;
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