Out with the Old

Posted on February 7, 2012 by

Leaving your family behind in obedience to God has its perks. Like that one time when Jesus promised one hundred fold and eternal life to those who leave their homes, families, and mother land for His name’s sake {Matthew 29:19}. That is not to say that walking away from the familiar is without heartache and shed tears… but I mean, a hundred-fold? And life never ending? C’mon.

It was hard to say goodbye to my family. Some people call it “see ya later,” but I’m a realist and I call it like I see it. Leaving for four years sometimes feels like “see ya never,” because let’s be real, a lot happens in four years. People grow old, some die, babies are born, friends are married off… and it’s a hard pill to swallow watching life at home go on without you.

Leaving America on January 4 meant that we had to say goodbye during the Christmas season. Instead of focusing on how hard that was, we disciplined ourselves to be grateful that God allowed our last days at home to be filled with cold weather and our entire families being together. God graced me with the presence of mind to use that time to make new family traditions since we were all undergoing a substantial life change. We laughed, we cried, we shared, we hugged, we tasted, we experienced, we loved. Enjoy some photos from my best Christmas yet.


From the top, left to right (like a book): Granny’s hysterical laugh during Skype/FaceTime lessons; Bobby roasting Ethiopian coffee beans; me preparing African peanut sauce and fried halloumi for Christmas dinner; me and Mama throwing ourselves a February birthday party in December; one of our many trips to Starbucks; Dad excited about chocolate covered bacon; Bubba enjoying his new UT door mat; Anniston getting sweet late night kisses from Aunt Maridith

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First I Cried, then I Laughed

Posted on January 21, 2012 by

There were sixteen of us crammed around the table. The two waiters serving us made eighteen very warm bodies stuffed into a room built for six. We were triple their capacity, but no one seemed to mind… no one but me. Nine of our party of sixteen were children—two of them were twelve years old and the other seven were four and under. An elbow to the left side, a kick to the shin, a spilled drink across the table, a glass Coca-Cola bottle shattered at my feet, and another elbow to the left. We had been seated for at least an hour and now three of the children were crying. The food began to slowly trickle out of kitchen plate by plate and mine of course came last {undoubtedly the only one that required no cooking—a salad!}. I was two days old in Africa—I was pushing 72 hours without sleep. I was on the wrong malaria medicine. It was hot and I was hungry. I somehow managed to block out the sticky messes and screaming children as I finally began to eat. Then without any warning, we lost electricity and I began to cry. When our waiter came and placed lit candles on our already crowded table, I noticed that my tears had turned to hysterical laughter in that dimly lit room. Strangely enough, eating a plate of lettuce in the dark was just the ticket for pushing through jet lag and the emotional rubble left in the aftermath of mefloquine.

We’ve been in Africa now for two weeks, and we continue to lose power regularly. In fact, we don’t have electricity more often than we have it (even went out twice today in the supermarket!). I’m sure consistent power outages eventually wear out their welcome for those living in the city and paying for electricity, but as for me, I wanna keep finding joy in the ambiance of it all. Preparing to move to the bush has certainly had its way of changing my perspective…

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Henna and the Gospel

Posted on November 9, 2011 by

Elijah was afraid because the ungodly sought to kill him, so he ran for his life and fled Jezebel.

After a day’s journey through the wilderness, he rested under a tree and asked God to take his life. But twice an angel of the Lord appeared to him and told him to arise and eat, for the journey ahead was too great for him. So he ate and drank and went in the strength of that food for forty days and forty nights to the mount of God.

There, Elijah came upon a cave and lodged in it. The word of the Lord came to him and said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” He replied, “I have been very jealous for the Lord, the God of hosts. But the people of Israel have forsaken your covenant and killed your prophets with the sword. I am the only one left and they seek to end my life.”

 And God said, “Go out and stand on the mount before the Lord.” And behold, the Lord passed by and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and rocks, but the Lord was not in the wind.

And after the wind came an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake.

After the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire.

And after the fire came a still, small voice. At the sound of this whisper, Elijah stood at the entrance of the cave.

Then the Lord said to Elijah, “Return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus and continue on in the way I have set before you. You will not be alone, as I will leave seven thousand God fearers in Israel.”

{story taken from 1 Kings 19}

 Storytelling is one of the main forms of education throughout the entire world. Jesus himself taught people orally, using stories and parables. Believers today in South Asia, Africa, and the Middle East combine oral Bible storying and henna, a temporary artwork drawn on the skin, to share the story of the Gospel.

Many stories in the Bible contain visual symbols that can easily be used as a basis for henna drawings. Refer back to the words/phrases in bold that represent visual symbols in the story of Elijah. In this drawing, one can use these nine simple symbols to remember the story of when God provided peace to Elijah when the enemy sought to destroy him.

If a believer is wearing henna and there is a story in the drawing, she can share it with people she meets. If a believer is doing henna art for a group of women, it’s a great time to tell stories about the love and forgiveness of Christ. Henna storying allows many women around the world to learn about Jesus by using an art form that’s been passed down for centuries.

PRAY!
* Pray for persecuted South Asian women believers to stand firm in their faith
* Pray that African women will have opportunities to hear and understand the Gospel
* Pray that the fear of persecution would not prevent Middle Eastern women from responding to the Gospel
* Pray that Christian workers would be bold in taking the Gospel to the darkest reaches of the world as they share Christ through the use of henna

Posted in Methods | Tagged , , | 9 Comments

No Room in My Luggage for Baggage

Posted on October 23, 2011 by

There are a million details to think of and shuffle through before starting a new life on a different continent. This is especially true for families with children. Some common questions are, “What vaccinations do my kids need? To what age should I plan to home school my children before sending them to boarding school in a neighboring country? We are moving to a closed country where we could be imprisoned or even killed for sharing the Gospel. How do we keep our kids from blowing our cover?” And then there are the young families who anticipate starting a family overseas (the category under which my husband and I find ourselves). Some example questions I ask are, “Could we handle having our first child while we’re still in language school? Would a Baby Bjorn be culturally appropriate among the people group in which I will live? Will I be able to get to a decent hospital in time if something unexpected happens during my pregnancy?” {The list goes on, but I’ll spare you. (You’re welcome.)}

There is a question people frequently ask me and it so happens to be another detail with which I’ve wrestled for months: “what should I take with me?” It would be shocking for someone with little overseas experience to interview three different missionaries serving in the same foreign city. All three could be asked to write out a “don’t leave the U.S. without” list and I would guarantee that each list would be amazingly different. But no matter how dissimilar each list looks, there is a universal commonality against which all three are measured—space limit. No matter where you’re from, where you’re going or where you’ve been, you can only bring so much stuff with you {check back later for packing tips and to find out what’s going to East Africa in my suitcase!}. Sure, there are lots of options for getting your stuff across the globe (crating, air cargo, and postal mail to name a few), but accompanying all of these options is a physical weight limit. Then, there’s the issue of customs. And in our case, we can take whatever we want into South Sudan, but we won’t be allowed to take it out of the country. Simply put, whatever we take in will stay there.

Please understand, however, that there are far more consequential questions to ask myself than what little pieces of America I can import to South Sudan. While these deeper questions are similar in that they also deal with a load limit, I must forego the physical and remember that I am first spiritual. What spiritual hindrances am I trying to cram into all the vacant spaces of my suitcase? More specifically, what resentment or bitterness am I holding onto? What disappointment or hurt won’t I let go of? My obedience to go to the nations is, by definition, disobedience if I choose to do so with unconfessed sin in my heart. If I refuse to restore broken relationships before I go to Africa, how can I possibly model forgiveness and healing to the Southern Sudanese—people filled with hatred and hostility toward their oppressors?

To those of you preparing to serve God overseas, examine your heart before ever leaving your country of origin. Understand that you absolutely will not grow spiritually if you are harboring resentment in your heart.  Even if you think you are in the clear, ask God to reveal dormant, deeply rooted relational  sin in your life. However, resolve to do that only once you are ready to repent and extend forgiveness to those who have hurt you. It would take no time at all for a spiritually dry heart to shrivel up and die inside a desolate land. Even the Israelites would have preferred to be the Egyptians’ slaves than to lay waste in the desert.

Let us, then, lay aside every weight that hinders us and the sin that so easily entangles…

Posted in Preparing to Go | Tagged , , | 7 Comments

Really? His Yoke is Light?

Posted on September 8, 2011 by

People always ask me if I’m nervous about moving to Africa. My response is always the same: “Nervous? Between signing my life away and trying to find someone to notarize it, making copies of and organizing all of our legal documents, discussing life insurance policies with my hubs {ahem, The Beneficiary}, learning about 401-Ks so that my 25 year old brain can wrap itself around what percentage of my retirement I should risk in investment, and trying to decide between disposable and cloth diapers for once I start pushing out babies in the Sub Saharan bush… I’m too busy to let myself be nervous!” My mind spins endlessly with check lists and lately I’ve started to feel panicky at the thought that I’ll accidently board a plane leaving some loose ends untied.

Being an anticipator has often times been my strong suit, but it frequently leaves me restless. Yes, I do sleep well at night, but I’ve started to do so with my jaw clenched tight. I drift into what I assume will be a peaceful slumber, but my anxiety manifests itself when I’m sleeping and my guard is down. I wake the next morning, not feeling rejuvenated and energized, but achy and sore. As I massage my cheeks and try to remember not to chew gum throughout the following day, it’s a convicting reminder that I don’t trust God with the finite details of my life. With $21 in the bank and a $155 car insurance bill due next week, I can assuredly say that God will make provision for that need. But I am not at a point in my faith where I feel that if I forfeited some of today’s to-do list, that God’s grace is great enough to get me through tomorrow’s too. Yet God is faithful and still He beckons, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

If I am to be an accurate representation of the One I am going to tell the ends of the earth about, I must be consistent in living my life in a way that showcases His greatness. Stressing myself out with the vanishing details of today convinces no one that Christ can be trusted for peace of mind, much less for salvation. I must throw off all things from my person that hinder the world from knowing Him.

Posted in Transition | Tagged | 6 Comments

New History

Posted on July 14, 2011 by

A gun is fired. A child cries out in the night. Hunger pangs invade swollen bellies, again. Cattle are herded in camps and will be given to purchase a wife of choice. AIDS runs rampant there. Abrasive sands roll in from the north, drying up the already weary soul. Dust consumes the land, but the dry season is a picture of what’s to come…

Rainy season is desperately anticipated so fresh water can be collected in bins. But her hope is tainted as she covets pollution. A drink now means giardia later. But what choice has she in her lot? Gray clouds fill the sky and the fragrance of the coming rainfall is inhaled all throughout the region. Then four days later, it rolls in from the distance. Slow drips at the onset, then a never ending pour. The local chief whispers into the rain, convinced that its steamy evaporation will take his plea to god. Now, a few weeks in, and a significant portion of the crop is washed away. The village makeshift sewage system begins to flood, and now a new round of illness sets in. This cursed rain is months from its exodus, but this is what she craved, right?

It makes me think: is this what He had in mind when He said rain is sent to fall on the unjust, too? Forgive my indifference.

O, that our presence would promote unsurpassable peace in this war-torn nation. That our arms would be strong to nurture the babies born into many generations’ worth of twisted sin. That our lives would be marked by sacrifice. That our marriage would boldly speak of His love for the redeemed. That our teaching would bring healing. That Truth would penetrate her darkness. That we would lead them Home.

 _______________________________________

On Saturday, July 9, 2011, the world welcomed its newest nation, South Sudan. History was made and I watched as the southern Sudanese celebrated the freedom that they don’t yet realize is theirs to claim. It’s going to take far more than a drawn border and a new name to loosen these ancient chains draped about her. She’s white unto harvest, and her laborers are few. So with heavy hearts, we go…

You’re 5 days old today, South Sudan. Happy Independence Day, baby girl.



Posted in l'Afrique | Tagged , , | 6 Comments