For over a month now, I have been trying to give voice to what Psalms 90 means to me. I started to write it when I was still in Thailand in March, but somehow it didn’t seem to come together. Flying home, I traveled through Korea, landed in Los Angeles and then took the train from there to Hutchinson. This saved me money and gave me the time I needed to process and relax. It was just what the doctor ordered. I have irrevocably fallen in love with Amtrak now. We drove through a lot of deserts and grasslands and it served to give a bit of a frame for what I was trying to say. While the desert may seem boring to some, I find in it a wild beauty and tenacity that is impossible to find in most parts of the world. That, coupled with the wide open sky of my own prairie roots, makes it a place I actually find refreshing (for a short period of time, anyway).
And it came to pass, in the 7th year of the reign of King Vajiralongkorn, in the third month, the Third Daughter of Daniel and the Eldest Daughter of Paul spake to one another.
And they said, Let us arise and go from this Country in which we sojourn, and let us rest for a Time in the Land of our Fathers, for here, the Smoke lies thick and the Heat is Blazing. Let us travel to the Land of our Fathers and return in the time of the rains, lest our Hearts wax Weary and our Brains become as Soup.
And so it came to pass that in the 4th month of the year, the Third Daughter of Daniel returned to her ancestral home. And lo, her journey was Long, for she rode on an airplane from the Kingdom of Thailand to the Kingdom of Korea and from thence to the State of California. And from the State of California, that state which knows so many Dangers to the Health of Man, she traveled by Train to her Home. And as she traveled, she encountered many things and consorted with Amish people on the Train who thought she was rather Strange and Old, and witnessed a forcible Removal of a certain lady on the Train, and had a Great Surprise when the Fourth Daughter of Daniel came aboard the train. And she said to herself that she would record All These Things when she arrived at her Home, but alas, when she arrived at home, her Heart was Weary and her Brain was as Soup, for she had stayed in the Heat of the Far Off Country a little Too Long.
But as the days passed, she revived and her Heart was filled with Joy at the sight of Spring and Flowers and Cows and Cats and Dogs and Nieces and Nephews. And of course, her Mother and Father. And one day she spoke to the Fourth Daughter of Daniel and said, If thou wilt sew me a dress, I will milk Cows for you, for I know how much you despair of Cows and you know how much I despair of Dresses. For long ago, the Third Daughter of Daniel tried her hand at Making Dresses, and many were the times when she lifted up her Voice and wept while picking out Seams.
And the Fourth Daughter of Daniel rejoiced and was exceedingly glad, and so it came to pass that the Third Daughter of Daniel milked the Cows by herself while the Fourth Daughter of Daniel sewed. And it is the Nature of the Third Daughter of Daniel to either meditate deeply when she is milking cows, or to lift up her Voice in Loud Praises, and this was the evening for meditating deeply. And Meditation in the Milkbarn by Maidens is a Worthy Pastime, so long as they do not Meditate too deeply and milk the Bull by accident.
And as she meditated, she remembered with Nostalgia her Life as a Child. And she marveled at the House of Daniel that each of the Children of Daniel, from the Eldest to the Youngest, still lived to speak of their Growing Up Years, for they had run with Scissors and drunk out of Hoses and Skinny-Dipped in the Water Tank and played with Fire.
And she meditated of the Eldest Daughter of Daniel, who rode the Copper-colored Pony when she was young, and when she saw her Father driving the Massey Tractor along the Road, she said to her Pony, Come, let us arise and race my Father. And she went like the Wind and her Father was astounded when the Maiden and the Pony swept past them at 30 miles an hour. And it was her that fell from the Wild Horse that no one could rightly tame and it was her that drove down the newly dug sides of the Lagoon on her bicycle and landed with a Resounding Crash at the Bottom. And it was also her when she was a Maiden milking Cows, who saw the Son of Lloyd coming to the door of the Barn, and said loudly, Get Out! And she knew not then that it was the Son of Lloyd, but thought it was One of the House of Daniel. And thankfully, the Son of Lloyd did not listen to her, but instead fell madly in Love with her and they are married to this day with many Flourishing Olive Plants and Arrows.
And as the Third Daughter of Daniel milked, she also meditated on the Second Daughter of Daniel. Now the Second Daughter of Daniel did not race Horses like the Eldest did, but drove a Wicked Lawnmower. And it came to pass as the Second Daughter of Daniel mowed the Lawn, she sang with Joy in her Heart and did not mow around a Newly-Planted Tree, but instead drove straight over it. And another time as she warbled on her Lawnmower, behold, her Lawnmower caught on the Swing and the Rear Tires of the Lawnmower kept on moving, and the front part of the Lawnmower went up towards the Heavens. And the Second Daughter of Daniel screamed, and the Screaming of the Second Daughter of Daniel is a Fearsome Thing indeed. And the Second Daughter of Daniel was also Fearless. For in those days, there was a Strange Milkman who liked to come into the House to ask to use the Phone. And as the Milkman used the Phone and the House of Daniel watched, the Second Daughter of Daniel sneaked up behind the Strange Milkman and stood on a Lunchbox and put her Fingers into Bunny Ears and gave the Milkman Bunny Ears as he unwittingly chatted on the Phone. And behold, grievous was the Shock to the Wife of Daniel as she watched.
And now we come to the Son of Daniel. And here lieth the Greatest Mystery of All, that the Son of Daniel survived to this day. For the Brain of the Son of Daniel sprouted many Great and Strange Ideas for Inventions and Things to Do. And he made a Chopper and a Silage Wagon for the Lawnmower, and he created a Sail for the Wagon to sail in the Wind on Windy Days and a Boat from an old Bicycle and Barrels. And he terrorized the Cats and used the Flower Garden for a Toilet, to the Consternation of the Wife of Daniel. And he built a Fire among the Trees and hunted for Treasure in all the Corners of the Old Farmhouse and made Teepees in the Tree Belt and Tree Houses in the Osage Orange Trees and hunted Sparrows and put them into Mud Pies. And he had many Grand Money-making Schemes and bought Guinea Hens and Dachshunds and Pigs and Rabbits. And lo, one day, his Rabbit was sick and it had Diarrhea. And the Son of Daniel gave the Rabbit Pepto Bismol to alleviate the Rabbit’s suffering and the Rabbit was then constipated and so the Son of Daniel gave the Rabbit a laxative. And then the Rabbit had Diarrhea again and it said to itself, This is Too Much, and gave up the ghost.
And it is only fair that the Third Daughter of Daniel think of herself. And in the days of her Youth, the Third Daughter of Daniel wanted a Donkey. And the Son of the Brother of the Wife of Daniel bought her a Donkey and the Third Daughter of Daniel loved the Donkey and she christened him, Jorge. And behold, the Donkey was stubborn and had two Speeds—Very Fast and Very Slow. And the Son of the Brother of the Wife of Daniel trained the Donkey and he spake to the Third Daughter of Daniel. And he spake thus, When thou drivest the Donkey, thou shalt not drive alone, but shalt drive with another Person who shall hold another Rope to the Donkey’s Halter to help when the Reins attached to the Bridle are not enough, and this Person shall be called your Emergency Brake. And so it came to pass that one day, the Third Daughter of Daniel and Fourth Daughter of Daniel drove the Donkey, and the Fourth Daughter of Daniel was the Emergency Brake, and they set forth on an expedition. And as they went, the Donkey heard a Fearsome Noise and waxed Sore Afraid and lo, the Donkey went like the Driving of Jehu. And the Emergency Brake flew off towards the South onto some very Rough Stones and the Third Daughter of Daniel steadfastly continued on the expedition and searched her heart and prepared to meet her Maker. And when the Donkey turned to go to its Home, the Third Daughter of Daniel did not and she flew off the Cart Towards the Going Down of the Sun and landed in a Soft Sand Pile. And the Daughters of Daniel lay where they landed for a Long Time and great was the Mirth of the Daughters of Daniel.
And we must not forget the Fourth Daughter of Daniel, who is of Small Stature, but of Great Spirit. And the Fourth Daughter of Daniel cultivated a Tendency to Fly, not only on Donkey Carts with Emergency Brakes but also on Bicycles without Brakes. And it came to pass that the House of Daniel and the House of Jacob and the House of Glendon and the House of Dean and many other Houses had a Holiday and they spent their Holiday on a Bike Trip in the Park. And behold, there was a Hill and a Road, and a Curve in the Road on the Bottom of the Hill, and a Creek after the Curve at the Bottom of the Hill. And lo, as the Fourth Daughter of Daniel coasted down the Hill, her Brakes gave out and at the Curve on the Bottom of the Hill, the Fourth Daughter of Daniel spread out her arms like that of a Great Eagle and she flew into the Creek at the Bottom of the Hill. And after her Extrication from the Creek, she was covered in Mud from the Top of her Head to the Tips of her Toes. And to this day, when the Second Son of Dean sees the Fourth Daughter of Daniel, he will ask her if she has flown into any Creeks lately.
And thus was the Manner of the Meditations of the Third Daughter of Daniel as she milked the Cows. And she marveled thus, that even with all the Flying and Speeding and Crashing and other Sundry Disasters, the Children of the House of Daniel have every Bone intact and every Nose unbroken. And thought to herself that the Children of Daniel turned out Mostly Ok. While they may not be fat, they are flourishing and this Thought gave her Peace as she meditated and milked.
Thus end the Meditations of the Milkmaid, recorded in the 7th year of the reign of King Vajiralongkorn, in the 4th month of the Year.
Someday I would like to visit Munich when I am NOT jet-lagged and cold.
On my way back to Thailand, I flew from Wichita to Denver, and from Denver to Munich, Germany, where I had a 13 hour layover. I visited Dachau Concentration Camp and several different churches in Marienplatz area in the city center of Munich.
I told some friends that I would write about my time in Germany and give some details on it, in case anyone else wants to try to do a layover like this. I struggled with knowing what to write and what to omit since I don’t like to post something with thousands of details, and yet when I was preparing for my trip, I found posts like that extremely helpful. So, if you don’t enjoy the details, skip them and enjoy the pictures instead. (Apology: I only had my phone camera which is the budget phone type and does not give very good quality photos either, so just take it as is 🙂 ).
Since I was vaccinated in Thailand and my Thai vaccination certificate was originally not accepted by Lufthansa when I sent it my documents for a pre-boarding check online, I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to get into the country because of Covid restrictions. When I checked in in Wichita, I was asked for both my vaccination papers and my negative Covid test. In Denver, I was only asked for my certificate, and in Munich when I went through immigrations, the officer did not ask me for either one. So, if you ask me if you need to be vaccinated to enter Germany, I think the answer is yes, but it also probably depends on the officer who stamps your passport.
I had 2 hours of sleep on the flight from Denver to Munich, so I was rather tired the entire time I was there. Ok, rather is too soft a word. It was more like exhausted. When I landed in Germany, upon boarding, I just followed the signs to the baggage claim instead of the signs marked transfer. Just before the baggage claim, I went through immigration. There I gave my passport to the officer. She asked me a few questions and gave me my stamp in my passport. From there, I headed to the bathroom and repacked my bags. I got all the stuff out of my backpack that I needed for my time outside of the airport and then put my backpack into my carry on, taking only my purse with me.
I made a few mistakes, like leaving the airport before stowing my bags that I didn’t want with me. In Switzerland, the place to leave the baggage was just on the other side of the airport, and I was thinking this would be the same thing. Instead, it was inside the airport. For anyone doing the same thing, as soon as you leave customs and the “point of no return” look for signs saying, “Service Center.” Follow those signs and you will find the service center where the guy takes your baggage and gives you a slip and reminds you not to lose it. You will pay when you return to pick it up. The service center closed at 9 PM, so do NOT come back after that hour if you have a flight leaving in the night and need your luggage. It might be a good idea to ask for sure what the closing time is since it might be different from mine.
Next you want to get your ticket. You can actually get this inside the airport, but I got mine in the subway station. I had written out some instructions on what kind of ticket I needed, and was very glad I did so, even though a few more details would have been appreciated. Watch for electronic machines where you get your own ticket. On the screen, tap the flag that stands for English (I assume, if you are reading this blog, you speak English) and then tap the square that says MVV. This will open up the options of the different kinds of ticket that you will need. Choose the Munich Zone M5 ticket, which is also called the Airport City Day pass. Also be sure to get a day ticket, also known as Tageskarten instead of an Einzelfahrtkarten, which is a single journey ticket. If you get the day ticket, you can ride any bus and S-Bahn trams/subways for one full day until 6 AM the next day. (This does not include the regular railroad). If you are traveling by yourself, get a single day ticket. If you are traveling with a group, you can get a group ticket.
The subway entrance is located across from the airport exit. Follow the signs for the S-Bahn, or sometimes it might just be an S logo in a circle. Once you are inside the subway, you will want to get the S1 train or the S8 train to go to Hauptbahnhof (also known as Munich Central Station). Make sure you are taking the train in the right direction. One tip that I found helpful was searching on google maps how to get from the airport to the Munich Central Station via tram. Google maps will show all different stops that you will make. This gave me a bit of assurance that I was going the right way.
I took the S8 subway/tram from the airport to Munich Central station, and then from there took the S2 train (in the direction of Petershausen) to Dachau station. There are also other ways to go there, but this seemed the simplest so I chose that. I did get mixed up in the Munich Central Station and got on the S2 train that was actually going back the way I came, so I had to do it all over again. If you go from Munich Central station to Dachau make sure the sign says Petershausen or Dachau. Or you can ask someone. I felt like in general the trains and the monitors with times and directions were much better marked than the Metro in NYC. I rode the S2 train to Dachau. There I got off the train and, following everyone else, walked under the tunnel and went to the sign that said, Bus 726, which was very clearly marked. To get to the concentration camp, you can also walk along the Path of Remembrance, which marks the same path that many of the prisoners took when walking from the station to the camp. On another less jet-lagged day, I would have preferred taking this path instead of the bus, but knowing that I needed to conserve my energy, I took the bus. The bus stops there at the station for at least 5 minutes and then headed to the camp.
At the camp, I wanted to get an audio guide since I had read that it was worth it, but since I didn’t have any Euros for a deposit, I was not allowed to do so.
Visiting the camp was surreal, but again, I would have gotten more out of it had I not been so tired and cold. In my state of exhaustion I felt very numb and emotionless.
It was worth it, though. Now in my mind, I can see the way the camp looked. It was also a fresh reminder of how quickly human society can disintegrate into brutality. I kept on wondering how I would have responded had I been living in Germany during that time. It’s easy to think that I would have done the right thing, but would I have had the perception and discernment needed, not to mention the courage?
I had originally planned to stay 2 hours, but I was tired and cold. I took the 726 bus back to Dachau station, and from there took the S2 train back to Munich in the direction of Markt Schwaben. Instead of getting off at Munich Hauptbahnhof, however, I went two stations past to Marienplatz.
At the station in Marienplatz, I tried to use the bathroom. I say tried because you needed to pay Euro in order to use it and I didn’t have any. There was a slot to insert a card, but it wouldn’t accept mine. I found this extraordinarily annoying. I mean, when you can’t even find a place to use the bathroom, what kind of day is that?
Climbing the stairs out of the underground Marienplatz station, I was stunned. Suddenly, I was thrust into a world that looked like a snapshot from the 1500s. A drizzle was falling, and sprawling architecture rose up on all sides of me.
Peterskirche, or St. Peter’s Church, was first on my list, so I went there. This church is known for its tower from where you have a beautiful view of the city and can see the Alps on a clear day. However, when I got to the church, a service was going and I couldn’t find the place where you could actually go up to the tower. (Only later did I discover online that there was another entrance I could have tried.) I sat in on the service a bit and had so much fun listening to the German and comparing it to the German I knew. I caught words like “Barmherzigkeit,” and “ess gibt kein elend….” Many of the words in the sermon were easier for me to catch than the street German I had heard earlier because I grew up reading the Bible in German and listening to it in church.
Part of the reason I didn’t try very hard to go up the tower in Peterskirch was because I wanted to climb the tower at Frauenkirche just as much or more, so I decided that I would do that instead. On my way to Frauenkirch, however, I stopped at a café for some food and coffee, and use a bathroom. The café was packed full, however, and it took me a long time to order and pay and stand in line for the bathroom. I was also reminded how different the German culture is from our culture. I tend to think that because the language is similar to mine, and because we are Caucasian, the culture must be similar. The people seemed much more self-assertive than what I was used to. Everything seemed to simply be 15 degrees different than what I expected. Even the bathrooms were odd, and I found myself getting a little grouchy about some of the differences, until I realized it and gave myself a talking to. After finally getting finished in the bathroom and figuring out how to get the door open again, I ordered some coffee in the café to eat with my cheese bread. The lady who got my coffee spoke only German to me. I could follow what she meant, but found answering harder. When I ordered, she asked me if that was all. I recognized that word, “alles,” and nodded and said, “Alles, ka.” (Ka is a polite word used at the end of a sentence when speaking Thai). After that I decided to simply speak Pennsylvania Dutch in return if they spoke German to me. It seemed every time that I tried to speak German, the Thai part of my brain went into high gear and spewed out words instead. After I got my coffee, I asked if she knew where I could buy an umbrella.
“Oh,” she said, “I have one right here!” So, she sold me an umbrella made of clear plastic that said, “I love Munich,” and I marched out proudly in the rain holding my coffee under my umbrella. I was very happy by now, since the coffee helped with my grumpiness, and I love rain, and what better way to explore Germany than from under an umbrella in the rain?
Next, I went to Frauenkirche, but because I had spent so much time buying my cheese bread and coffee and umbrella and trying to figure out how to get in and out of the bathroom, it was already after 4.30 which meant the towers of the church were closed. That made me quite sad. Frauenkirche was much less ornate than Peterskirche. Not too far from there, I also found another church called St. George’s Church. It wasn’t on my list of places to go, but I stepped in anyway. I found this one to be the most beautiful of the three churches I had visited.
I had originally hoped to visit Munich Residenz, which was a former royal palace located not far from Marienplatz, but I was getting running out of coffee and inspiration. As I walked along the street with my umbrella, listening to the church bells and the music from the street bands, it seemed perfect. I love rain and I love umbrellas and old cities with history. But I didn’t want to stay. All I wanted to do was go home and take a hot bath and curl up with a good book and open up my living room windows and watch the rain in Munich from there. Or sleep.
But I couldn’t go home. So, I went back to the airport. I took the S1 or the S8 back. I am not sure which, but it went without mishap. I slept on the way back and talked with the man on the seat opposite of me who was visiting from England.
I picked up my luggage, and went to my gate early.
*note: one piece of advice. For anyone planning to do a jaunt out of the airport on a Munich layover, or in any other foreign country, the best thing to do is to plan ahead. This may vary according to personality and travel experience, but when you only have a short time in a country, every minute counts and every minute that you waste trying to figure out how to get from one place to the other is one minute less of exploring. This article is by no means an exhaustive commentary on a Munich layover. For more information, google “what to do on a layover in Munich,” and you should have all sorts of articles at your fingertips. On both my Switzerland and Munich layover, I mapped out my route beforehand and how I would get from one place to another and was glad for every single bit of research I had done before entering the country.
Annie with ringlets warm and wild. “Only in Sleep” by Sara Teasdale
Nostalgia is one of the biggest emotions that hit me when I am home. Half of my time at home, I spend reminiscing and walking around old haunts or digging through shoeboxes of letters and photos and school papers. The above poem brings a lump to my throat as I think of my past visit home.
It was a memorable visit, filled with out-of-the-ordinary happenings, not all that were nice.
After traveling home from Reach, I got sick the first week. On the last day of March, it snowed enough to cover the ground and then it all melted by noon. The next week, my nephew fell off his horse and broke his wrist and we had high winds almost every day. The following week was windy again for a few days and then we had some really warm windy weather, along with hail, rain and then again, some snow! The day before Good Friday a gas plant in Haven blew up and some people could see the flames from our area. The last week I was home we had about one nice day, and the rest were cold and windy.
I loved the snow we got, though, even when others were quite glum about it. And there were other highlights to offset the unhappy surprises. My nieces and I took a little trip one day to the library and to the Dutch Kitchen. Sara and I spent a day at a coffee shop together and I also joined her at work one day. Our family got together for Good Friday, and Mom and Dad and Sara and I went out for supper one evening. I got to help at a community sale one Saturday, attended baptism services at our church one Sunday, and listened to a school program the last evening I was home. I visited my grandma’s grave one afternoon. Most Mondays I went with Aunt Miriam to the doctor where she did lab and chemo.
Wednesday evening before I left was a perfect spring evening, and my nephew Eric, the one who had not broken his wrist, and I went horseback riding. We saw 5 turkeys, one deer, and another animal that we decided was either a coyote or a mountain lion, both of which have a tail, a tawny color and a loping run. Both of us hoped it was the latter, but we weren’t close enough to make sure. Friday before I left on Saturday, I went with Grandpa and my Aunt Miriam and Dad to the doctor. In the evening, my nephew Davon, the one who had broken his wrist, came over with his .22 youth rifle and we went bird hunting in 40 mph winds, shouting to each other over the howl. I shot at several birds and was always secretly glad that I hit none. Somehow, shooting things does not have the same appeal as it used to, but I did pray that Davon would hit something and he did.
This time, saying goodbye harder than it had been for a long time. The last two times I had been home, Covid restrictions made it complicated and difficult to travel back to Thailand, so the last few days of my time at home had been spent stressing about travel back. This time was different, with eased restrictions. It was also the first time I was home after grandma’s death. This made it harder to say goodbye to my mom, since she seemed smaller and whiter than before.
Saturday morning dawned rainy. I am always glad when it is rainy the day I leave, since it fits my mood. Before I left, I ran out to the apple tree and cut some blossoms that had just appeared overnight.
And then I left for Wichita in the middle of the endless Kansas wind.
A few days ago, here in Hutchinson, KS, I went with my aunt for her weekly chemo treatment at the local clinic. We were waiting in front of the elevator when the door opened and three elderly ladies disembarked. Upon seeing us, the one immediately exclaimed, “Oh, my ladies from Yoder!” The next one saw us and exclaimed as well, “Oh, I love Yoder. We spend a lot of money in Yoder.” And they chattered away about Yoder without giving either of their subjects the time or airspace to say, “Well, actually, we are not from Yoder. We are from Hutchinson.” (Yoder is a small town about 12 miles southeast of the Hutchinson area. The Amish in that area are more “well-known” by tourists than the Amish in the Hutchinson area).
Anyone from Yoder will quickly correct you if you think they are from Hutchinson. Anyone from Hutchinson will do the same. We are quite different, in our minds anyway. But to the non-Anabaptist outsider, we are basically the same.
I experience the same thing when in Thailand and a fellow American discovers my roots. A common remark is usually similar to this, “Oh, then you must be from Pennsylvania!” And such comments follow such as, “I’ll bet your mom makes the best shoo fly pie.” When I say, “No, I am actually from Kansas, and I don’t think my mom has ever made shoo fly pie,” their brow inevitably wrinkles and they blink several times as if to say, “She is confused by her transplant into Thai culture. She actually is from Lancaster, Pennsylvania and eats shoo fly pie on a daily basis, but she is simply confused.”
Actually, I have only been to Lancaster twice in my life, which would come as a shock to the aforementioned fellow Americans, who consider Lancaster to be the hub of all that is Amish and Mennonite. And it probably is.
My second time in Lancaster was just last month at REACH, which is an Anabaptist missions conference held every 2 years in Lancaster, PA. REACH is a stark reminder of how many different stripes of Anabaptists exist. I should make sure to say that not all the people who attended REACH this year were from Lancaster and I am sure thousands of Lancasterites did not make it to REACH.
I am sure that the ones who organized REACH this year did not do it to show off all the different sub-denominations of Anabaptists that exist. I am sure that they planned REACH in order to give God glory. And it certainly did.
But forgive me if I marvel a little. After spending 7 and a half years in the tropics of Thailand where the sighting of a Mennonite causes no less excitement than a UFO streaking across the night sky on a summer’s eve, it is overwhelming to spend 2 days at a mission’s conference with 2500 Anabaptists.
It is rather like eating 5 meals of pizza after subsisting on rice and spicy minced pork for 2 years.
Or like drinking a gallon of chocolate milk after you have been drinking Pepsi all your life.
Or like reaching a desert island in the middle of the ocean after you have been at sea for 5 years. You should be overjoyed at being on land once more, and you are with one part, but another part of you longs for the jostling of the waves once more.
Doing REACH is especially mind-boggling if you do it while you are jet-lagging after an 11 hour time change. Jet-lag has a way of bringing out the worst in you, whether it is feeling totally void of emotion and energy at 2 in the afternoon, or whether it’s giggling helplessly and immaturely at an ill-timed comment during one of the regular sessions at REACH.
Even with all of the overwhelmingness, I really did enjoy REACH.
The three things I enjoyed most was reconnecting with old friends, making new ones, and attending the breakout sessions. I got to stay at my friend Abby’s house, and go out to eat with my childhood friend, Tina. I got to see Judi and Barbara and Diana and Rosa. And I will stop listing names there, because soon I will offend someone for not putting their name on the list.
Then there was meeting new people. People that stopped by the INVEST booth who knew so and so who used to live in such and such a place. People who were friends of a friend, or who had spent time in Thailand years ago, or parents of a friend, like Amy’s mom and Abigail’s parents. I met someone I had been told various times I should meet, and then found out she had been told the same about me.
And the breakout sessions. The general sessions were good too, but the breakout sessions tended to be more informal and specifically tailored. I got to listen to my good friend, Janelle, speak on mentoring young women, and then another good friend, Carolyn, speak on discovering steady joy in a life of following. Another of my favorites was a workshop by Allan Roth, on the advantages and disadvantages of being an Anabaptist on the mission field.
Between all these delights, I sat behind the table at the INVEST booth and watched all the different tribes and kindreds and tongues of Anabaptists stream past and enjoyed talking with some of them. Being on the more conservative end of the Anabaptist spectrum at a mission’s conference has interesting consequences because of the tendency to be put in a box. I find this strangely enervating, and yet at the same time exhausting, since shattering preconceived notions can be somewhat exhilarating and yet you do get tired of jumping out of the boxes that hundreds of people put you in. Can I not just be me and not the box you put my church constituency in? Yet, I realize that Anabaptists thrive by placing people, and figuring them out, and well, putting them in boxes. I do the same and in some ways it is a natural human instinct. One of my teachers once called it a survival instinct.
Once REACH was over, we spent a groggy evening at Janelle’s house and then she drove us back to Abby’s house.
That night I went to sleep dreaming that I was trying to find a breakout session in the church where REACH was held, and using Google maps to find it.