A Day at the Rez--December 30, 2008

Brandon and I had a landmark day going to the Omaha and Winnebago reservations as part of his Christmas gift. He experienced as sense of connection, since he actually has a bit of Native ancestry (he's 1/16th Cherokee), and got to see old friends and meet new ones in the process of doing some Mi'Jhu'Wi Ministries administration.

The trip actually started for me with some passages from Is. 63 that our pastor read at church. You know you're in the right place when the Holy Spirit talks to you through the sermon BEFORE you tell your pastor what you're doing. Several passages stood out to me as concerning the trip and the ministry on the res, particularly v. 17b:
"....Return for the sake of your servants,
the tribes that are your inheritance."
The Omaha Nation adopted Christianity about 150 years ago or so according to what I've been reading, and you still find quite a few that equate Jesus with Waconda/Creator on both reservations. I have a feeling that He's aware of the challenges they're facing and wanting to intervene, with our cooperation.

We asked several people to pray for us as we went up, since the car has been needing some attention, it's winter, it was really windy, and, welI....I seriously hoped not to offend or concern anyone by our presence. We hooked up with Karen at her mother's house when we reached Walthill, so that wasn't an issue. I feel pretty loved up there, actually, among the people that I've met so far, but we take care to be respectful and go about things correctly. We specifically called our friends, Lee and Andy, for prayer as we pulled out of town only 15 minutes after our goal departure time despite having to reload all of the stuff that we'd collected for a mom that had been called to our attention by her manager at the hospital in Winnebago. It was a good thing, too, since there was some frost on the road. His Social Security attorney called about a mile before the exit, and I handed him the phone. She was reassuring him that she'd secure his arrearage payment (HELLO, YWAM MINISTRY TRAINING AFTER JOB CORPS!) as I got onto the ramp and swerved toward the 15' dropoff. We swerved the other direction, in front of the car that had pulled off to let us have the dance floor, and finally got corrected and onto the highway. I'd unloaded part of the Pepsi I'd been drinking for energy into my lap during this process, which led to our adventure in Fremont.

We got to Fremont, and stopped to get some dish soap for the mother who was getting eight boxes of dishes (which ended up under the seat and hasn't gotten to her yet), and generally regroup. I noticed that the Pepsi was more noticeable when I walked around in the January wind outside of McDonald's. All of a sudden, I receivedeth a word of wisdom from the Holy Spirit, I think--I took my inconvenience to the ladies' room and resolved it with five or six cycles of the hand dryer! I call it a word of wisdom, since you don't find any guidance in Acts in the missionary journeys of Paul concerning a stop at the Damascus McDonald's to dry the Pepsi out of his prayer shawl with the air dryer in the men's room.

We checked in with Karen (who was charged up to get us there, and was making me feel loved again), and took off. About halfway between Fremont and Walthill, we got to be grateful for our prayer cover again as we saw a van on its top down another 15' embankment. I was granted some clear-headed wisdom and discretion on our speed, and we avoided that fate.

Brandon got some revelation of humility and attitude correction an hour or so later as we crossed the southern border of the res and came into those gorgeous hills. There is a sweet, peaceful presence of God there. I've felt as though I followed Him there to accomplish some good things, based on some mental pictures I've run across during prayer times. We pulled into Walthill, and just spent some time catching up with John and Karen about the ministry and our lives in general since they moved up there to take care of her mother. Holidays are about family, and I consider our friends to be family in the ways that count.

We took some of the boxes out of my car to get Karen to fit and put them into her Rover. From there, we headed up to the AllNative store in Winnebago to get Brandon's Christmas hat. It looked like Stevie Ray Vaughn's (minus the band, which he'll search for), and the money went into the Winnebago tribal coffers. We confined our shopping to just that store, and left to one a few doors down for another day. It's a little bit like going through an art gallery to go in there, since all of the product is produced by Native artisans. We did go around the circle of wooden statues depicting members of the twelve clans of the Winnebago that's in front of that store, which is a majestic sight. While we were shopping, I called Audrey at the hospital to see if we could visit with her that afternoon which she was more than happy to do.

Karen had wanted to show us some of the art in the hospital, so we sort of wandered slowly toward the reception desk. As with the Indian Center in Lincoln, there is a rounded opening that extends to the roof that's pretty breathtaking. Not only did Audrey receive us, but she introduced us to the mom she'd asked us to help, who'd gotten the two little ones recovered enough from surgery to return to work. She also brought out a few other ladies, and we had quite a meeting there in the hall for about a half-hour or so. We'll be working with them to help some of the families that come through the system there (I just sent out the first list). I love to instantly connect with people in the way that we did! She then took us upstairs to see the Spiritual Room. Karen mentioned that she'd have to ask the relatives for funeral guidance when Mom's time came, and then remembered later in the day that she'd actually been talking to an in-law! We spent awhile longer just looking at the art, including a painting called "Friends" that I loved, because it concerned Natives and whites working together.

From there, we went to Macy, which is the Omaha tribal headquarters. The tribal office building is distinctive in that it has some extra sides (I'm trying to recall for sure if it's seven). We went inside to see the pillars representing the seven clans of the Omaha, and take a quick look around to see if we could locate some people that we knew with a few minutes on their hands. That didn't happen, so we headed back to Walthill to do some delivering.

The first step was to do some locating. We had an address and now a set of directions, but it took us awhile to put it together. We got to get better acquainted with the town that way, at least. We finally got there and unloaded what we had in the car, and went back for the rest. I'll send a quick thank you here to everyone who sent something along with me or through the mail, with official thank you letters to follow.

On that note, we headed home. The fatigue disorder that I've been battling for a few years was asserting itself by then. We had another windy drive home with no difficulties that we took at our own pace so that we could talk and compare notes. I think we came over the hill to a panorama of the lights of Lincoln just as the sun had gone down, which is a dramatic change after being in a largely pastoral environment. Many things are different between those two places, but the same basic things are true and important in both.