Isn't being a missionary fun?!

That is the question I asked myself quietly as I was sitting in the bed of a truck, in my alb, driving down a dirt road to celebrate Mass.

Saturday and Sunday were long and somewhat difficult days.  I shared my visit to the hospital on Thursday...one of the patients we visited passed away.  I was really shocked.  He looked so well when we visited him, and a only a little over a day later, he was gone.  Of course, I've experienced death, but not in quite that way.  When Father told me he had died, all I could think that was just 36 hours before, I had shaken his hand and had a conversation with him.  So we visited the family (the majority of whom are Baptist...oh and they are from India originally), and offered our consolations.  That evening, we visited the home of another family who had lost a loved one.  It just happened to be the former President and First Lady of Botswana.  I would've found the experience of meeting the President thrilling if it were not for his mother's wake.  We kept vigil with the family and Father asked me to lead the group in some prayers.  I have found that death is when God seems the most present.  Perhaps because death reminds us that much as we may think so, we are not all powerful and it makes us reach out in ways we don't usually.  There is something about the prayers of the people who are grieving that expresses true faith...I don't know if that makes sense or if I can adequately describe what I mean, but it is why I always find funerals to be so beautiful.  After we got home from that, Father asked me to preach at the 8 AM Mass on Sunday (this was Saturday night).  He said I didn't have to if I felt it was too short notice, but I decided to give it a go...after all, priests need to think on their feet sometimes, right?  I did some Lectio Divina on the Gospel and wrote out my homily (which I'll post later).  All things considered, I think it turned out well, and the people's response was positive.  I even did some singing, so the Spirit surely was with me lol.

The Youth Group meeting on Saturday went pretty well.  Only 5 came, but as I always say, that's more than Zero.  We talked about the Trinity and it's significance for our faith and then did scripture reflection and faith sharing.  They were all very responsive and participated.  I also had them write their names on a piece of paper and exchange with someone else.  That person then agrees to pray for the other each day during the week.  Next week they'll exchange with someone else.  Hopefully praying for each other gets them bonding and growing as a community.  Many youth said to me after Mass yesterday that they were sorry for missing and that they would be there next week.  We'll see what happens :-)


Yesterday was the longest day I've had yet.  I overslept, and woke up at 7:15 with just enough time to shower and get a piece of toast in me before I ran to the 8 AM English Mass.  Mass ended at 9:30, which gave me 30 minutes to meet and greet before the 10 AM seTswana Mass.  I decided to give in and just let my spirit go.  I danced and clapped and let myself pray.  It was wonderful!  The altar servers were all giggling at me lol.  They later said to one of adults, "The legkowa was dancing!"  So after 2 Masses (equaling 4 hours), a group of us literally jumped into the bed of the truck and took off for one of the outstations, what we would call a mission.  There were 6 or 7 of us crammed in the back going down the highway at 110 kilometers/hr (which is about 68 mph).  That's when I thought to myself "Isn't it fun to be a missionary?"  Just flying down the highway, in my alb, in the bed of a truck, to celebrate the Mass.  This experience reminded me of what matters.  My hair was a mess, I could feel the layer of car exhaust and dirt on my skin, I was a little sweaty and probably musky, and I didn't care.  What mattered was to be there to pray with the people.  To celebrate with them the joy of God's presence.

We got home around 9:30 PM (after also attending a going away party, which I want to talk about later) and I went to bed last night sore and exhausted, but smiling to myself.  This is my life...and I love it.

"Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News to all Creation." Mark 16:15

Peace.