notinKansasanymore

Twinky, you're delightful, and I'm praying that you won't be away for long. Good luck with the job search. We're on your side!! Love, niKa

Amen. Here's a poem that someone once read at the microphone, I think maybe at Emporia, but can't recall. But the poem speaks to the issue at work here, in my opinion. God sees our hearts, and He knows our motivation. I'm very thankful for the Greasespot Cafe, and for all the work that Paw has put into this space of healing. Love is Brown!" by Sam Graham When I was a younger man, embarking on life's sea I ran into a wise old friend whose life was full and free His life had oft' inspired me, for in the Word he dwelled His wisdom touched everything he did, and he ruled his household well. I asked him for some sound advice to help me on my way And I saw the twinkle in his eye as I listened to him say Ah, you seek to understand love, I see, like most every other man. You sing and laugh and dream of it, so tell me if you can Give it just a little thought, then straightly answer me If you could only see it, what color would love be? Oh, that's easy" said I, "Blue just like the sky. So big and all encompassing, so lofty and so high. But wait, it might be green like leaves upon a tree That show the world there's life inside for everyone to see. Or gold that sets men's hearts afire, or white like new-fallen snow. Or red that courses through our veins, to make our bodies glow." My friend patiently listened, the twinkle still in his eye. He slowly raised his eyebrows, then said to me, "Nice try ... But lad I fear you've been misled, I hate to put you down. There could only be one color for love," and he smiled as he said, "Brown." "You're kidding me," I said laughingly, tipping back my hat. "Dirt is brown and mud and muck--what's so beautiful 'bout that?" "Exactly," said he, "It's easy to say you love someone when skies are blue or grass is green Or the dawn is gold, cheeks are rosy and snow makes a fairyland of things. But do you love him enough to pull him out of the mud if he is caught right in the thick? To wade through the slime and cold for him; will you nurse him when he's sick? And though you may get muddy in the try, will you give your best till he makes it through? Well, if you're willing to do this for him, then surely you love him true. "You see my friend, love is more than beauty; and if you want to wear its crown, Then you must be willing to wade the mire of life. You see. . . Love is brown."

Who paid, Twinky? Well, once, I did. I knew a girl who was pregnant, and didn't want to be, and I didn't know who the father was, and wasn't even that involved with them as friends; she was just a sweet kid in the twig. I had been so schooled that an abortion was no big deal that I gave some extra money that I happened to have that month. We didn't always have extra, but we did at that moment, and we thought that we were doing the Godly thing to free this girl up to move the word unencumbered. As I look back on the event, some 25 years on now, I surely wish that hindsight weren't so . . . clarifying. It's a horrifying thing to know that I've donated to the death of a baby. It's also horrifying to know that we were all schooled to think of a fetus in those terms, and that we used those definitions to do other harm, to other people, across so many years of involvement with The Way. The Way International contributed to the deaths of babies. There are a lot of reasons to dislike them, but that casual way of discarding life is one of the most important distinctions between them and a Godly ministry. So what if they thought that life doesn't start until the first breath? Why does that negate the worth of the fetus? Selfish, manipulative, devilish A$$holes. Sorry, Pawtucket; that may be the first time I've cussed on your website, I can't think of a more appropriate time.

I'd like to suggest an additional category for the things people did after TWI. "finished my education or otherwise re-trained for a profitable career." That's one of the main reasons life has turned out happily for me. love, niKa

That said, the "comfort zone" thing is kind of creepy. Some of the comfort zones that The Way overstepped were things like shyness speaking in front of people, or an unwillingness to work on the grounds crew, or stuff like that, which was just part of leadership training. But some of the comfort zones that The Way overstepped were pretty darn personal, and private, and sexual, so perhaps to avoid comparisons, this new group might want to clarify that one a bit. Hey, they may do things right, or they may do things wrong. But I don't believe that they're setting out with "wrong" in mind. I'll pray for them. If you're still carrying around so much hurt (rightfully so, in many cases) that you don't want to pray for them, then I'm kind of thinking that praying for them might do you even more good than it does them. Just a thought. Peace.

Maybe they just want to teach some young people some of the good things they were taught back when someone inspired them. Maybe they did it in Mississippi because that's where they had some land. I'm willing to wait and see what they do, instead of slamming them for doing it before they ever really get started. Maybe they want to do things right. I'm not saying that I plan to support it, with anything besides prayers for safety, and such. But if you thought that you could do some good in the world with the tools and knowledge (and land?) that you had lying around, you'd try, right? Who knows how this will turn out? They've already seen how to do it wrong, and so have the rest of us. If they make those same mistakes, it will be easy enough to tell.

Yesterday was wonderful; it must have been almost seventy. The warmer days have brought out the very first Spring flowers. My next-door neighbor planted a whole herd of bright yellow daffodils right next to her front porch, and they are a riot of color. The poignant part of this story is that when my sweet neighbor planted them, she did not yet know that she had cancer. She passed away during the winter. Her daffodils remain as a sign of the good that she did in the world, and left behind for us to enjoy. Her work and joy is still active, speaking to everyone who enjoys those flowers, the opening salvo of good weather. As a person, even when she knew that things would end badly, she never lost her joy, or her courage. I think of that now. Here's to ya, Jean. Sweet rest.

I see that we now have 333 pages on this our thread of glory. Does that indicate some kind of Bullingeresque complete completeness? I don't know - this seems to be a bunch of people who are still growing and inventing themselves - it would be kind of nice if we never stopped doing that. I sure do like you guys, and it's been an interesting ride so far. love, niKa

Thanks, Rocky! Hi, Fellowshipper! I did indeed "see the Southern Cross for the first time," as the song says. I wandered outside one night, in Hokitika, realizing that I hadn't looked for it yet. I looked up, and within about ten seconds, picked it right out. I hadn't realized that it would be so low in the sky, or that it would be upside down, but it was so obvious that it couldn't have been anything else. That was a pretty neat moment. Mr.niKa looks fifteen years younger than when he left in October; my stepdaughter didn't even recognize him in a crowd until he said her name. It's all that walking everywhere, in Wellington, and living a 40 minute walk from work, in a very, very hilly city. The trek in the Tasmanian bush last week (which took 8 days), to climb Federation Peak (which took 1 day, for 9 days total on a sort of self-structured LEAD) did not hurt his conditioning any, either. It's great to have him back, and healthy. I now must get out my OWN walking shoes, and get back to my aerobics class, to keep up! It'll be a good thing. Love to you all, niKa

Hey, this is a shout-out to mah peeps. Rejoice with me! After being gone on Sabbatical since early October, my sweet husband returns TODAY!!! It was beyond great to get to visit him there for Christmas, but it will be a very, very big deal to have him back home with us on a daily basis. Dang, I've missed that guy!!

Hi, Tonto! Great to see you here! And DWBH, just think of it as the Way Corps Version of War and Peace. If Spiderman was the main character, because he's the "imperfect" superhero. This thread is about five and a half years old now - it's kind of a cross between a diary, a biography, a high school reunion, and two men who walked into a bar. One had a parrot on his shoulder, and the parrot says . . . oh, wait, that was a derail. You know, that happens a lot on this thread. There are joys and heartbreaks and everything in between, told between people who had incredible experiences with one another, a lifetime ago. You certainly shouldn't try to read it all in one day, or even in one week. The continuity of the thing is just "love." Makes it right up your alley, my blessed brother. I shall now go and dance in the kitchen in both your honors.

Wow, thanks! I hadn't realized that there would be such an interest, and you all are really nice to ask. The research got to the point that they were able to submit a pretty hefty grant proposal, which was the goal; it's interesting to have two different primary investigators, in two different hemispheres. If it gets funded, things will start to move quickly. There are some interesting things that they'll be able to do in other areas that might not need as much funding, and will likely get done whether there's a lot of money for the research or not. Some things turn out to be simpler than first thought, and some things harder. Okay, that's nebulous, and I'm sorry, but it's unpublished results, so that's all I can say about it on the internet for now. As far as the trip, perhaps the neatest thing was that there were seven of us in a van together for 21 days, and constantly in one another's company for 30 days, including myself, mr.niKa, our two children together, my 22-year-old stepson, and my in-laws. At the end of the month, after all that togetherness, we all still liked each other! We were physically tired, but emotionally, just didn't want our time together to end. I'm extremely fortunate to have such nice in-laws. One thing that comes to mind at the moment about the trip was from the Maori presentation. We had to walk across part of a nature compound to approach their "encampment." I don't know what these folks do for their day jobs in Christchurch, but they obviously love their night gig. It was relatively early in the evening, and the air was a bit cooler, but the shadows weren't getting longer yet. The young Maori woman who was our tourguide said that a leader would be elected from our group, to represent all of us. "It's a man who has been on the water today," she said, scanning the crowd. A skinny white Rasta dude from the back, complete with colorful handloomed shirt, sheepishly raised his hand. (Punting is a popular activity in Christchurch; they're probably more British than the British.) So, he was our leader. As we walked up to the Maori encampment, there was only silence, and the sounds of the birds. Suddenly, loud shrieking, really fierce and frightening, erupted from behind us, and a warrior leapt out of the forest brandishing a (very large) spear and making a very scary face. The Maori are the ones who bug out their eyes and stick their tongues out so far that they'd put Gene Simmons to shame. Back in the day when big sailing ships used to come into some of the bays in New Zealand, there were several instances when groups of Maori performed the Haka (war dance) with the scary faces and the "come and get a piece of me if you dare, pale wimps" attitude, and those ships turned right back around and went elsewhere. Did I mention that they were cannibals? Anyway, the guy with the spear walked up and down our group, doing scary face, and shaking the spear at us (trying not to shake it too hard at the kids, because some of them were getting scared). Then, a really big Maori guy was given instructions by his chief, and he came and did a very macho, threatening sign language thing to our white Rastadude leader. The big Maori then dropped a small branch of greenery and stepped back to see what Rastadude would do. Rasta was ready, because we'd all listened to the lecture beforehand, so he picked up the greenery. That was the signal for peaceful intent, and we were declared guests for dinner, rather than the main course for dinner. They led us into their enclosure, after explaining what everything there was for, and then they put on a music show with a sing-a-long. They were transformed into smiling, gracious hosts. It was a very interesting cultural experience. I have now sung the Hokie Pokie in Maori. They closed the show with the Haka, and it was very loud, from the gut, and real. They take this stuff seriously. One thing that I remember about them was that there was a young man in the show who looked completely white. Dark eyes and hair, but white. I realized that he must be at least part Maori, or he couldn't be in the show, and wondered what it must mean to him to participate in this kind of cultural exchange of ideas. Then, I noticed his feet. (They all went barefoot.) His feet were precisely the same as the chief's. Exactly. This kid must have been the chief's grandson, or other relative. It suddenly became very important to me that this young man was singing and doing the Haka alongside this old man. And the man who was the chief did not seem like any kind of an actor to me. He had a bearing, and a jade sign of rank, and some of the most beautiful British-educated English I have ever heard. I think that he was really a high-ranking Maori. New Zealand has two official languages: English and Maori. It's completely different from the situation in America, where we displaced the native population. The NZ constitution is written in both languages. All of the Maori chiefs had to sign the constitution, back in the day, before it could be ratified. There's a basic sense of respect for their culture that is not present toward native Americans among most popular American culture. Later, we had dinner in the restaurant at the nature preserve, and the waitress came and asked whether the children would like to feed the deer. Right outside the plate glass windows where we were sitting, pygmy deer were waiting for what is obviously their normal feeding time. Every child in the restaurant was given a pail of deer feed, and welcomed outside to stand at the low fence and feed the deer by hand, while we enjoyed our wine and watched them through the window. (Okay, after we went outside and took about a hundred pictures of them!) There just aren't any adequate words to convey how delighted the kids were, or how special it felt to be able to watch the wonder in their faces. Well, that's all for the moment. There really were a lot of cool things to see and do there, but the most impressive, by far, was the people. They are the greatest natural resource of New Zealand. love, niKa

Ah, the Fellowshipper seeks enlightenment according to the way of the Nika in New Zealand. Get Thee To The Beach. The surf-fishing and beachcombing there are very spiritual. Gore really IS the brown trout fishing capital of the world. Fairlie says it's the Rainbow Trout fishing capital of the world - they have the very same thirty-or forty-foot statue of trout in their respective town squares, painted differently according to the Brown or the Rainbow. I am not able to speak for Fairlie, as I did not fish there, but in Gore, they speak true, my brother. Hokitika is a great place to take your bride to the movies. The movie theater is a small room with lots of sofas and a big screen projection T.V.; there's a guy who sells you chocolate, wine, beer, etc., along with your tickets. It's not a cheap date, so be warned. We saw a French film there, called "Conversations With My Gardener," which had English subtitles. It was such a good film that bits of it still catch me unawares, more than a month later. There is also a building in Hokitika which I thought looked very familiar. Not the exact building, but the feel of it. I looked at the nameplate: "Cargegie" was on the bronze plaque. "This is an old Carnegie Library!," I exclaimed to mr.niKa and to the niKaStepson (who turned 22 during our trip). "No, no," they said. "That's only in America." They had little faith, but I was no neophite. I wonder what my back looked like? I went into the building asked questions, and the sweet wine of truth and vindication flowed over mah heart. Turns out that Andrew Cargegie was Scottish (who in New Zealand didn't just put his hand over his heart, at the very mention of the Motherland?) He built 21 libraries in New Zealand. Hokitika was, at one time, a major conduit for shipments into the South Island. It was a thriving shipping town. Chistchurch was cosmopolitan. I liked the Antarctic museum, but my father-in-law thought that it wasn't enough museum for the gate price. He was probably right, but it was a very nice museum. The kids loved the Storm Room, where they have you put on heavy coats and go into a refrigerated room, and then you spend about six or seven minutes in actual blowing-snow-colder-that-you-really-want-to-be storm. I was ready for that to be over after about two minutes, and it did give us a much better idea about what it might be like to be a researcher in Antarctica. There was a nature preserve (named Windmere, or something similar) where we saw a presentation by Maori. It's a traditional cultural demonstration, and they re-enacted the ceremony of an elaborate visitor ritual, at the end of which they decide whether to welcome the visitors, or cook and eat the visitors. They were very fierce until they got us inside their compound, and then were quite gracious and lovely hosts. We always kind of figured that they wouldn't eat us, but at least one young child at the ceremony wasn't quite so sure. Milford Sound is supposed to be very cool; we did not go there. Instead, we did an overnight cruise on Doubtful Sound. RealJourneys was the name of the company, and they did a fantastic job. In fact, every attraction of theirs that we saw was completely topnotch. That company was begun by a couple who sold . . . was it hardware? Or insurance? Anyway, it wasn't travel. They started small, and built it into a travel empire. They bought some key tourism rights early on, and worked hard at prosperity. That kind of thinking is, in my opinion, quite characteristic of many, many New Zealanders: they are not afraid of hard work. Okay, so . . . Doubtful Sound. The first Captain to find it said that it was "Doubtful" that they'd be able to get their ship into the Fjord (which is what the Sound is), and back out again without dying. After spending a couple of amazing days on it, and seeing how our Captain had to steer around rock after rock, I see why. It also has incredibly cold water, being sooooo far South. It's the southernmost edge of the range of the Bottlenose dophin, because they just can't handle colder water than that. Mr.niKa and I kayaked on it, which was very fun (we raced), and later took a dip in it (which was insane, and in my case, extremely brief). He stayed in for about 8 or 9 minutes, cavorting around and being macho, and after he'd been out for about 10 minutes, he still felt like an icicle to the touch. We saw dolphins two or three times during the trip, jumping out of the water in arcs, playing with one another; sometimes there were five or six of them in the air at once. Another thing that was unbelieveable, even though we were staring at it, was all the waterfalls. You have to understand that on our way in, it was raining cats and dogs and then some, and then a lot more than that. This is a place that can get a meter of rain in a day. There were thousands of waterfalls; we passed them for miles; the sides of the fjord rose up on both sides of the ship, and the waterfalls were all around us. By the mid afternoon, the rain had stopped; that's when we kayaked and swam. The next day, the waterfalls had almost all dissappeared. There were a couple of small seal colonies, and many tracks of avalanches, and it was very, very cool. The food was amazing, too. So, I'd certainly recommend the overnight Doubtful Sound cruise, but it's not a cheap date, either. Pehaps you've learned my secret: I like cheap dates! We brought home lots of cool rocks: black marble flecked into gray rock, and also layered black and white mica, from the Fox Glacier, pink-and-black flecked marble from Gentle Annie, greenstone from Hokitika, and green rock shot through with cream veins from Gore. The kids beachcombed a large bone in Gentle Annie, and we brought it home. Now, I've become a bit concerned that it might be a human sacrum; I sent an e-mail with pictures over to the Zoology department without saying what I thought it was; we'll see what (or if) they reply. People don't wear slogan T-shirts there (they think it's tacky?), unless it's related to a rugby team "(Go, All-Blacks!) In fact, simply wearing black is very popular in Wellington, in support of that team. In general, I found New Zealanders to be extremely polite and rather formal. mr.niKa says that they're so careful to be courteous that if they don't like you, they might not ever tell you, and might not ever even let on. Most interactions there are delightful enounters, simply because New Zealanders so very much enjoy being pleasant. I loved that part of the experience. They're just nice. And for now, that's all I have to say about that. Except that if you have a choice between flying United or flying Air New Zealand, choose Air New Zealand. Neither has much legroom in coach (and I'm talking NO ROOM for your knees), but the food and the service are nicer on ANZ. Okay, that's really all that I have to say about that, for the moment. Thanks for asking, Fellowshipper.

Happy Valentine's Day, me Hearties!! I hope that your day was a good one. Love, niKa :wub:

Socks, you have a way with words. And so am I. How's about a little "Change We Can Believe In?" Yes, we can.

Felloshipper, thanks for the thought. The kids and I spent four hours in the Sydney airport on the way home, but so little time there on the way to NZ that we never even sat in a chair or put down our carryons. None of the luggage made the connection on the way there; it was all delivered the next day. Everything but the kids' fishing poles made it on the way back; those are still in Airline Limbo, and may end up being replaced by the carrier. I wish that we could have visited you in Melbourne, but we couldn't find tickets that went through there. I gave my last final at 8am on a Friday, turned in grades at 1:30, and we were on a plane by 4:20 that afternoon. We returned in the early evening on a Monday; I started teaching again the very next morning at 9am. I still haven't unpacked everything, because it's been a super busy first week of the semester, but I'm sure grinning a lot. We've almost caught up on rest, but as Howard Allen used to say, there'll be time to sleep when we're dead. Geesh, that sounds pretty morbid, thirty years on. The Maoris are soooo coooool. We went to a Maori presentation at the nature reserve in Christchurch, to learn about their history, (Mr. niKa got pecked in the leg by a kiwi, unbelieveable but true; it reached through the enclosure) and also spent quite a lot of time learning about the Maoris at the national museum in Wellington. I hope that we can stop by if we get down there again. Mr. niKa's best good buddy lives in Melbourne. love, niKa

YoooHoooo, everybody! Just spent a month in New Zealand; it was beyond fantastic, and was the trip of a lifetime. (Hopefully, not the only one!) We did a 21-day driving tour of their beautiful South island, with Mr.niKa's parents and three of the four kids. Did you know that there are 40 million sheep in New Zealand? I saw about a million of them. And I learned that 17-inch Brown Trout are average fish there. Two of those browns fed seven of us, with seconds, and thirds for anyone who still had room. We saw one guy's prize fish - it was a heee-yuge salmon, caught in a river. Broke the trout net. I surf fished in the Tasman sea. Whoa, did I just type that? "I surf fished in the Tasman sea." I'm getting the giggles just thinking about it. Okay, we've just travelled for 27 hours to get home (arrived late this afternoon), but it's so exciting that I just had to share that with you. Now, I feel a nap coming on, particularly since I start another semester of teaching in the morning. As you were. Were you dancing? Carry on!

More like a month. I will be observing radio silence, having promised myself not to turn on my computer the whole time. If I don't talk to you folks for a few days, have a very, very merry Christmas, and a happy New Year, and a great Ho-Ho Relo. Much love, niKa Always dance; that's what kitchens are for.

Hey, all. Last day of class was today. Finals are next week. Work is piled around me, in big stacks. But I'm digging out. Coffee.

Wa-HOOOOOOOOOO! Years of hard work, as well you know. A lifetime of the possibility of truly making a difference in the quality of people's lives. Congratulations to the Countess, George, and "The Kid." Love, niKa

Rocky: Happy Birthday!! I just saw this thread. Congratulations on your health, your life, and your birthday. Love, niKa

Oh, TommyStrange, it was great to see you, too! That was a wonderful evening. Someone called it "meeting old friends for the first time," and that wasn't far off. You were one of the only folks whom I knew well, and most were strangers, but certainly not for long. The greatest thing was seeing how people's hearts had not really changed. Oh, we're much more free from bondage, certainly, but everyone still has such great heart for people. I'm very glad that we went. love, niKa

AAAHHHHH, Monday morning, after a five-day weekend. Well, it wasn't exactly an "off" kind of break; we were pretty busy every day. Oh, it's hard to wake up this morning! I'm surrounded by sleepy children, snoozing in their oatmeal. Let's have a FUN RUN!!! Or not . . . Now that I can get back to work, maybe I can get some rest . . .. or not . . .

Tom, NO, I was not a "tryptophan drunk," but I'd really like to know whether anyone got the license plate of that Dutch Apple Pie . . . Hope that you all had a great day! As for me and my house, it's time for sit-ups. right after . . . my nap . . .

Happy Thanksgiving, 9th Corps Wonderfuls!! I hope that it was a great day for you. love, niKa