After 36 days.

Where do I start.
This week has been wonderful, incredible, beautiful.

I blame it on the package my mom sent me. And not because I am now realizing how fun it is to ration Ho-Hos, but because she spirit,” the book I mentioned in week one or two. The book that Rebecca read a few paragraphs of a few years ago, it changed her life and relationship with God—the Holy Spirit to be exact—and she hasn’t seen the book since.
I was already unzipping my bag as I walked into the house after school on Monday. I told her that Mom from Ohio sent her a present.
She was sitting on the couch, finishing a Sudoku puzzle (Aunt Sandi: I gave Rebecca the Sudoku book you gave me for the plane. She’s in love with Math and this book—thanks). So anyway, she was completing this puzzle, I handed her the Holy Spirit book, and two seconds later she was off the couch, prostrate on the floor (head in hands), shrieking. Shrieking. She wrapped her arms around my neck, then my waist—all the while screaming—and saying a bunch of things really fast that I couldn’t understand, even though it was English. There was a bunch of Thank You and Oh God, Oh God, but it took her ten minutes to calm down. Once she did calm down, she gave me this speech:
The day you came. I woke up that day knowing that God was going to give me something. He had a blessing for me. I looked for it all day. But nothing. I remember it was 5:52, and I only had eight minutes left (maybe 6 o clock evening marks the end of day? I was confused by this) So, I stood there, by that radio, and asked God, ‘Where is it? What do you have for me? I thought it would come.’ As soon as I stopped praying, as SOON as I stopped praying, the van pulled up. And I thought, ‘This one. Is she what you have for me, or is something going to come from her?’ So I’ve been watching you, knowing ‘This one has a secret.’ (I’m going to interrupt here to backtrack a few weeks ago. Rebecca and I were blowing time at the dining room table, trying to read each other’s faces, because Rebecca said she can read people’s faces and know, always, when they’re lying. So I tested her, had her ask me questions, I would write the real answer down on paper and then decide whether to tell her the truth or lie, and she would read my face. ANYWAY. At one point she sort of squinted at me, studying me, and said that she knew me. Knew me well enough to know what I was thinking when I said things, and so she could read my face. But, she said. But, there is still one thing I don’t know. I am looking for something, but I haven’t found it yet. I’m not gonna lie: It was the first time Rebecca sort of freaked me out. Made me feel incompetent or suspicious, because she seemed suspicious of me. Anyway. Back to her speech).
And remember the night you came? It rained SO MUCH. I told you that rain means blessing, and for me, for me rain and God are the same. That is how He communicates with me. And it rained so much the night you came. And last night! It rained much much last night! But now I see. You are a gift from God. And look what you and Mom from Ohio brought me. Now I know I can get close to Him again, I can know the Holy Spirit again! (Insert shriek) It was what? It was 2002 when I last saw this book. I went to a Benny Hinn revival in Kampala a few years ago, to look for this book, but I didn’t see it. And now God has given it to me again! This is the biggest surprise, by the way.

The night before, lying in bed, she laughed about Communion that morning (Easter Sunday), how she was last in line, so the reverend gave her three portions of the bread. We laughed and I told her how Charlie takes home the Hawaiian rolls we use for Communion, afterwards. How we find him in the church kitchen on communion days, eating the leftover rolls. Anyway, she said when the reverend gave her the three pieces of bread, she thought, “One is the Father, one’s the Son, and one’s the Holy Spirit.” When I gave her the book, she also mentioned that. That now she could be with the Holy Spirit again.

I’m not saying that Rebecca needs this Benny Hinn book in order to get close to the Holy Spirit. We don’t need Benny Hinn for those sorts of things. But I keep reminding myself that God can use anything, will use anything, and for so long this girl has been panting as the deer to get to that place with the Holy Spirit where she used to be, after she first read a few paragraphs of the book and started applying it to her life. And if He’s going to use Benny Hinn, He’s going to use Benny Hinn.
All I know is that, this week, I’ve noticed a drastic change in Rebecca. So much joy. There was only one time I noticed the sadness that usually marks her face.
The next night, Tuesday night, we were sitting at the table, I opened a mosquito bite and had to go clean it (lovely details), so I went to the room, thinking I’d be right back. Rebecca and I sat in there, her on her bed and I on the floor, for the next two hours, talking about the Holy Spirit, and the different dreams she has had where she has seen God. (She was so excited, because Hinn was quoting Revelation and some of John’s descriptions of God and the throne, and shrieking again, Rebecca told me about her dream and God looking like a crystal sort of octagon, with a different color for each side. John’s descriptions of jasper and stones got her excited; her dreams came close, very close). I thought we had only been in there maybe 10 minutes, until Aida came in, said something in Luganda, and Rebecca said Mackie was on (our Spanish soap opera’s main character). I’m going to miss these conversations, these conversations that suck the minutes like crazy.

Wednesday night we watched Narnia together, the whole family at the dining room table. (Professor Button “rents” out his movie and book library to us…not to mention hosts Smore barbecues—last night was incredible). Anyway, they were so engrossed in the movie. Susan jumped from her seat and gasped at one point (this movie isn’t in the thriller genre), and Mom was really scared of the white witch, and scared that, “The children won’t suffer, will they?” I told her no, this movie is about the Easter story, so it’s a happy movie. And so they started looking for it, for the hints and parallels to Christ throughout the movie. They noticed so many things I haven’t before.
Like when this nasty little elf-looking thing, one of the ones killing Aslan, asks Aslan (a lion), “Do you want some milk?” I’ve just taken the line, thus far, as the nasty guy calling Aslan a kitten or something. But as soon as he said this, Mom said to me, “Like Jesus. When He’s on the cross and they offer Him something to drink.”
And then. Then there is this one part, in the fighting scenes, where a bow and arrow is a shot, and the arrow—with a ball of fire on the end—turns into a bird that then turns into a ball of fire, hits the ground, and sets a barrier of fire between the two armies. No joke: the entire family, Rebecca, Mom, Aida, and Susan, burst into cheers (at the point that the bird turned to fire), Aida waved her hands in the air, screaming, Susan was clapping, Mom said something like Hallelujah, and Rebecca wrapped her arms around my waist: “It’s the Holy Spirit!” she screamed. I still can’t figure this out. Maybe because I don’t know the Holy Spirit as well as they do, enough to recognize Him when He looks like a bird catching on fire. Maybe it’s something about the Day of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit initially fell on the disciples “with tongues of fire” or something. ? Either way, they all knew, at the same time, who this bird was representing, and Rebecca made me rewind. I did. And again, same reaction, same uproar.
I bet you can imagine what it was like when Aslan rose from the dead. Aida even starting singing.
They all loved the movie; Rebecca said it’s her new favorite. (The next morning at breakfast, Mom started naming more biblical parallels from the movie that she thought about before sleeping). We’re watching it again this weekend.

That movie made for a late night. I had to go outside for the latrine before going to bed. (Remember, Betsy’s family won’t even let her out of the house past 7. It’s not safe). What I remember from the walk from the house to the stalls was the lightning. The silent, beautiful lightning. It was like a silent film; I love this sort of lightning.
The next morning, sitting at the breakfast table for two hours (skipping class) because of the incessant downpour, Rebecca said she had known the night before that would rain like that. “Remember when you went for a short call last night, very late?”
“Yes.”
“I followed you. I wonder if you noticed the lightning? So I knew we would wake to rain.”
“I did notice the lightning. It was beautiful. (laugh). But Rebecca. You’re sneaky. Why’d you follow me?”
“I’m not sneaky. I was looking after you. It was late, not safe. I had to see that nothing happened to you.”
I love my big sister. Fully.

Like I said, it rained like crazy yesterday. My class started at 8:30. I left the house at 10, and pointlessly, for Mom and I still had to walk in the downpour.
On the way I told her, “Mom. I just decided. I am not going to any lectures today.”
“Really? Then why are you walking to campus?”
“I don’t know. But the rain has defeated me. I refuse.”
I skipped all my classes yesterday, really, for no reason. And it was wonderful.

I skipped class this morning too. But by default. I had just finished my bread and tea, and it was 8 o’clock, time to leave, in order to make it to my 8:30 class. But at 8:01 Rebecca said to me, “I read more of ‘Good Morning, Holy Spirit’ last night.” I didn’t leave the house until 9. I won’t sugar coat it: I was frustrated. I see that my Type A personality, the devil that it is, doesn’t dissolve just because it’s in a Type B culture. It was hard to listen genuinely, without picturing me walking in late to class. Especially hard to listen when we got into some theological stuff that I really disagree with Benny about. But Rebecca was taking his word as truth, while Revelation is a crazy book to interpret and place stock in your own interpretation. We argued some, I showed my frustration, and also looked at the clock my share of times. But then we reached this point in the conversation where I relaxed in my seat and realized, wet eyes and all, that I needed what was coming at the end of the conversation. The mire, the sludge, of the Revelation portion of the conversation was necessary, and worthwhile, in order to get to this.
It’s too overwhelming/consuming to sit here and write out the entire conversation. I will just boil it down to what I learned this morning:
I have long been ignoring the third person of the Trinity. Maybe because we call Him the third, and maybe because…I have no good excuse, really. For some reason I’ve been under the impression that the Father is God and Jesus, the Son, is God, and then there’s the Holy Spirit—the invisible version of the two. Sure, they are all connected. But not so much that they fully dissolve into each other—each is His own person. I give attention to the Father, and attention to the Son, but the Holy Spirit I either take for granted or ignore, never really calling Him by name, never really giving Him any credit for anything. Because I’ve just assumed that He is essentially the other two, just in the on-earth version. But how can that make sense, when the Father and the Son are separate enough? The distinctions between the Father and Son should be enough to tell me that the Holy Spirit is just as separate, just as unique.
Standing at the table, sliding my bag over my shoulder, I realized: When the Father was our “point of reference” or whatever, our present go-to God—in the days of Adam and Abraham, and all those jazzers—there were those who ignored Him. Then we had Jesus—He was/is the One we go to in order to be connected to God. And again, there were those who ignored Him. Those who had their eyes on the Father, and thought they were serving Yahweh, but failed to recognize Jesus, refusing to believe that He was/is the Father’s Son. And now we have the Holy Spirit. He is our present and direct contact. Yet there are those of us, myself included, who are so focused on the Son and the Father that we can’t recognize, and we ignore, the one who is here among us. So what makes me different from the Judaizers, the Pharisees, the ones who ignored the one among them and continued serving their own one-sided version of God? There is no difference. I am serving a two-sided God, while knowing He is three-sided. I have been forgetting the third person. Forgetting the Holy Spirit.
In so many ways, this scares me to death. To see this massive route ahead of me, this grand, painful effort to learn what I have to learn. A whole new side of God that I need to once again pursue, and let Him pursue me back (maybe that’s in the wrong order? I don’t know). A whole new person, personality to meet and learn His ins and outs. It’s huge, and I’m scared, overwhelmed, etc.
But at the same exact time, there is this incredible adventure ahead, just waiting. I don’t have to, I get to, meet and pursue and learn the personality of this third part of God. My life, my relationship with God—the three-in-one—has thus far been incredible. The most joyful, worthwhile adventure around. So, finding out that it’s only the beginning, that I’ve only tasted the half of it (okay, or 2/3), is the best news I’ve heard today. Because, really, how can it get better? I didn’t think it could. Today I see it can; as hard as it is to believe, I see I’ve been missing out—by ignoring this third person of God, this part that is no less significant than the other two.
I want God in abundance. That means all three parts. And if this is what I take from Africa, if this is what I take from Rebecca, these four months are golden.

(Post Script. For Mom. I did go to class today. The class I had to skip was one that is offered twice. I promise I went to the second session). :)