Ah, Technology...

I gave my TV away last week. The poor thing was on its last legs. It refused to turn off unless you unplugged it, the color was a little off, and since I didn’t have cable at home, I had to use an antenna to watch the broadcast channels, which dramatically reduced the already iffy picture quality. So when I couldn’t fit it in my storage container along with all my other worldly goods except what’s literally on my back here in Africa, I decided to part ways with it. Don’t get me wrong--that TV was good to me. Without it, I would still love Ian Thorpe more than Michael Phelps, and that would be a tragedy—not to mention downright un-American! Olympic glory notwithstanding, that TV was definitely ready for television heaven, so I sent it on its way.

Other television-related events of last week included seeing High-Definition television for the first time. I was minding my own business, buying some CDs to back up my computer before I took it on this little field trip to Uganda, and I glanced over to the TV section of the electronics store, and the picture on the display television nearly knocked my socks off. I had heard people gush, “Oh, HD is like real life. It looks so real.” But I never actually believed them. BUT THEY’RE RIGHT!! I actually thought there was a soccer player running through the back of the store for a brief second. It was so clear, so crisp, so sharp…so real. Quite a change from my fuzzy, plague-ridden TV at home.

This year in New York—no, the last three years since I left California—my life has seemed pretty fuzzy as well. God’s plan for me has involved both unprecedented struggle and unprecedented spiritual growth. But for the most part, the present and the future, as well as my own identity and role have been pretty fuzzy. The picture I’ve been getting though the antenna is recognizable, but not exactly clear. Sometimes other channels interrupt, or the reception cuts out altogether. Other times, I can see things pretty well, but I never know how long it’s going to last or when the next bout of static is going to set in. I’ve learned during this time to watch more carefully, to maintain a careful adjustment of my spiritual antenna, and most of all, to stay as close as possible to the screen so I don’t miss anything.

But yesterday, my life snapped suddenly and with distinct profundity out of fuzziness and into HD. It came unexpectedly as a result of my having had too much water and too many cups of Turkish tea at dinner. I had to go. I had to go bad. We stopped by a shop on the way back from dinner to look for a hairdryer—because I may be in Africa, but I’m still a girl—and I asked if there was a restroom. The attendant told me it was in the back of the store, so, propelled by a deep and urgent need, I ventured to the back of the store.

I found the bathroom after some careful searching. It was unlit, the stench was overwhelming, the floor was squidgy, there was no paper, and to top it all off, it was a squatty-potty. So I assessed the situation, let my eyes adjust to the darkness, stamped on the floor a few times to scare away any adventurous vermin, pulled some Kleenex out of my bag (carried for just such an occasion), disrobed with the flourish of a skilled squatty-user, and took care of business.

As I walked away from the situation, the HD clicked on. I realized that I had just faced and conquered the kind of situation that would have inspired many, many Westerners to clench a little harder and content themselves with another twenty minutes of the pee-pee dance, and I had faced it with nary a whine, and little, if any, dismay or hesitation. I simply dealt with the situation—and on top of that, I had come prepared for it! It was abundantly clear to me that I was made for this. I am doing right now what I was made to do. I would like nothing better than to bring glory to God, healing to the church, and peace and hope to the poor and needy of the world by living in or visiting places like this and writing about what I see. I can think of no other way I’d rather pour out my life.

Things have been fuzzy for me for a long time. But being in Africa, doing what I’m doing, I feel right. I feel like me. Things are so much clearer now than they have been for years. I guess it’s time my life caught up with technology! I don’t know if I’m going to get to throw out my fuzzy life when I get back to New York. I don’t know what the Plan is. But at least, for now, I’m looking at life in beautiful, vivid colors that I haven’t seen for a long time. There’s no squinting through the fuzz, and no hoping against hope that the signal will last long enough to watch the medal ceremony—again. There’s just the clarity of life in high definition.