We’re sleeping in my parents garage, Liisa and I, and little Timmy in a small bed beside us.  It’s really quite comfortable, a mostly finished garage with a kerosene heater and a large, bouncy bed.  Timmy was just bouncing on it a few minutes ago and I told him to stop jumping up and down on the bed.  He slumped down in disappointment, then folded his hands, closed his eyes, and said, “Please God, I wanna bounce on the bed….YES!” Then he opened his eyes and looked at me expectantly.

~Ted

Teah Rurup

Do willows sleep on pillows?

Do ants have Aunts and Uncles?

Do butterflies have long straight eyes?

Does a crown frown?

Do bees eat peas that grow trees?

I don’t suppose you could tell me all those!

-A poem by Teah Rurup, age 7

A video of the ministry of Ted and Liisa Rurup and family.

Homecoming.  Landing a month ago in Minneapolis, the place of my birth, I was the one coming home.  Sweet reunions, I hugged my mom, aunts, uncles, cousins, and dear friends.  It reminded me of when Ted travels, and I welcome him back to our beloved home in Nairobi, Kenya.

Homecoming Day, I drive to Nairobi’s big international airport on the edge of a gamepark.  For thirty minutes or an hour, traffic tries (successfully) to scare me on the wrong side of the road.   Sometimes I furiously scold in Swahili a crazy bus or “matatu.”  My children crane to look out minivan windows, blue eyes peeled on the sunny blue Kenya skies.  Is the jet just in view the one holding Daddy?  The kids never let me make that trip alone, even though it usually entails a long wait in a long room with no chairs anywhere, looking through long windows at customs and baggage.  The children compete for the first glimpse.  Then we all get our hugs in. The older boys wait for the stories as much as I do; they usually have a few of their own.  Teah’s first question can be counted on, “Did you bring me a present?”  Timmy just gets wider-eyed.

Ted comes home changed from each On Field Media trip, like he caught a deep breath and a more muscled grip on the mission’s vision:  Christ-centered churches among all African peoples.  The story of Jesus in each new context into which the team has taken a camera invigorates the pouring of his heart into the pictures, words, and story.   It pours out like prayers.  For me, the OFM team puts a face on Luke 10:1 & 2, a prayer to the Lord of the Harvest to send more workers.

When the men came home from Rwanda, another wife on the team volunteered the view from her house.  It matched what I was seeing in mine.  She said her husband’s spirit was heavy for 2-3 weeks after returning from Rwanda.  That country’s baggage came home in our husbands’ suitcases and hearts.  But later I met the missionary with whom OFM had worked on that trip to Rwanda.  He surprised me with something shocking like, “I hadn’t laughed that much in 2 years.  Your guys really encouraged us.”  God opened His unique swapmeet -the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.  Wow.  How awesome to be with Him in that.  We ourselves are encouraged and grateful for the supporters God has linked with us.  We gain happiness and fortitude from our support team’s sacrifice.

When Ted comes home, I brace myself for stories sure to break my heart, for the fresh need to care and pray.  The happy stories, the successes, the smiles and courage on African or missionary faces in video and photographs-  these press my senses almost as hard as sadness and terrific need.

It all reminds me so much of heaven:  reunions, embracing, the ultimate in stories, purpose, gladness, and being utterly shocked at how real it all is and what a gift.  August 1st an AIM Air crash took 2 of our mission family, Frank Toews and Ryan Williams.  A sudden departure and painful leaving.  But for Ryan and Frank, it was Homecoming.  Their move to Heaven, right in the middle of their work for the King, welcomes me again to know where Home really is.      Welcome HOME.

~Liisa

A little commercial I put together of the work of OFM.