Here to Stay

2011

Today marks the day we have been in Africa longer than we were here two years ago.  In 2011, when we came to bring our son home, it was "a trip."  For a month, we put our lives in the States on hold and came on a great adventure.  You can do a lot of things when you have a light at the end of the tunnel (or a departure ticket in hand).  In 2011, I never once complained about taking a cold shower because it was part of the experience.  This time, from day one, I pouted because if this is life as far as I can see, it's not so great.  In 2011, we could eat peanut sauce over rice and spaghetti every day for a month because it was just a month.  This time nutrition concerned me from day one because this is my children's childhood.

Another area in which the last trip was different than this move is in the area of spiritual passion.  Last time we came on a spiritual mountaintop.  This time I came feeling watched like a firefly caught in a glass jar, wounded by church politics, and unsure if I could trust our Father with where He was leading us.  What do I do with a God who says to count trials as source of joy?  How about a faith that costs me comfort?

Then, this week, He showed me Paul's words: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith."  In this familiar verse was an unexpected peace:  If "keeping the faith" was guaranteed, he wouldn't have brought it up.  If  "keeping the faith" was easy, it wouldn't have been worth mentioning. 

There are some days when "keeping the faith" is the most I can hope for.

The great news is, on those days, God says it's enough.

The Rest of the Story

After my last post, we found whole, frozen chicken with minimal feathers attached for sale.  Super big YAY!  It took two days, but we bought more propane and ENJOYED every chocolatey bit of those brownies.   We also received wisdom from one of our friends who has served here for over ten years: “The first four months are survival.  If you get to the end of the day and all you’ve accomplished is you did not leave Africa, then it has been a success.”   I am clinging to that - so thankful for those who have gone before us and the prayers of you who are walking with us!

But that is only a piece of the picture.

One of the greatest joys of being in Africa is watching Philip thrive.  He is clearly meant for this life in this place.  Even the hobbies he had in the States are life skills here.  

I was making a Top Ten list of ways he is perfect for Africa, but it turned into a Top Thirteen:

1. Philip isn’t afraid to try, and he isn’t trying to impress anyone.  These are great assets when we’re guaranteed to make a million mistakes in the process of learning a new language.

2. Relationships.  Philip is all about relationships, Africa is all about relationships.  

3. He doesn’t live off schedules and checklists.  Perfect because schedules and checklists don’t work here.

4. He got one thing out of Boy Scouts: tying knots.

5. He enjoys driving, especially off-roading.  As we bump along a “road” that is nothing more than a patch of earth on which people drive, I have to remind myself off-roading is what people in the States do for recreation.

6. He knows cars.

7. He knows technology.

8. He knows video editing to share our experiences.

9. He enjoys experimenting with rocket stoves, earth bag houses, solar dehydrators, and water filtering systems.  He would do it just for fun, but it’s not just for fun anymore!

10. He needs nothing but family.  

11.  He is a servant and a leader.  Right now he is carefully leading me through this chaos, assuring me as often as necessary that God wants us here....and heating water on the stove as often as necessary for me to have a bucket bath.

12. His mom taught him to cook from scratch.  Spaghetti sauce, guacamole, kettle corn.  Hallelujah!

13. He has experience with poultry.  When he is given a live chicken, he accepts it.  (That makes one of us!)

Yesterday I told Philip, “With all the stress we’ve been under the last couple of months, we really shouldn’t be getting along this great.”  He agreed.  Being "front row" at this stage is not as much about what God is doing with us and the people of Africa, but what He is doing with us in our own family in Africa.  Maybe it’s because God has some really fun stuff in store for us to do, and He wants us to do it together.

“I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me….I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” Mathew 25: 35-36, 40

I just read in the book God’s Smuggler: “Don’t you see,“ Brother Andrew told us, “you cannot give a person something to eat unless you are there.  You cannot provide drink or clothes, or visit the sick and imprisoned, unless you are there.”

So we say: Here we are, Lord.

On The Road Again

Those of you who have seen our van over the past year, will probably appreciate seeing us now.......

Five days after arrival, we set out with Ruth and Linda on a survey trip, stopping in four cities/villages.  With all this gear (two bags on top, too!), we also have seven passengers in Ruth's SUV built for five. 

It's quite the experience.

I've learned on this road trip thus far that God gives us just what we need to get through to the next day.  Often I don't even know what I need, but He supplies.  Sometimes tomorrow holds delightful surprises of hot water or American treats.  Sometimes tomorrow holds the gentle whisper, "This is where you die to self."  

No two days are the same.

Christmas Visit to the Orphanage

When we arrived at an orphanage for Christmas, Titus joined a game of soccer in the courtyard before we even finished unloading the truck.  After a couple of hours of soccer fun, I saw him sitting with two other boys.  He was writing in the dirt, teaching them English.  As the child who most adamantly didn’t want to move to Africa, he sure is giving it his all!  If he keeps this up, he’ll be the first one of us fluent in French.

Daniel, as always, is quite the attraction.  This has been so powerful to watch unfold, even though this is not the orphanage where he lived.  Think of how striking the difference is between his old life and how it is now, sitting at the dinner table in the staff house with nine other missionaries eating spaghetti, garlic bread, and lemonade.  What really struck me the first day of our visit was wondering what the other little children who live in the orphanage might have been thinking as they watched us bring Daniel into the staff house.  “What?!  He looks like one of us,” they might have said.  Maybe they noticed if living in the staff house was awarded based on skill, he’d probably be one of the last children to gain entry.  But it’s not skill, or accomplishment, or appearance.  He walked right in, no questions asked, simply because several years ago his father said, “This one is mine.” and everyone knows it.  

That’s how it is with our Father’s kingdom!  

No accomplishment or skill based entry, no reference list or explanation needed at the door.  The Father says, “This one is mine” and we can walk right in to the feast.

The next day, I started thinking about how Daniel doesn’t look like Philip, so is it not a requirement to look like our Father to legitimately be one of his children?  And you know what?  Daniel was fully Philip’s son, even in the beginning when Daniel wanted nothing to do with him.  He became a son when he didn’t eat the same food, share the same culture, or speak the same language as his father.  What has happened in the two years since then is the natural by-product of being a son, and being with his father.  Now, he not only speaks English, he does it with a Western Kentucky accent.  Daniel laughs at Philip’s jokes.  What stands out most of all here, he understands when his father speaks that bizarre language called English.  

When all the other African kids just stare, Daniel responds.  

How would the church be different if we lived sure of our place at the table as sons and daughters?   What if we learned to hear and respond to our Father’s language - even if no one around understood it with us?  Think about how great it is to have brothers and sisters around who understand your language when everyone else gives you blank stares!  That’s the life of Emily, Titus, and Daniel right now.  It’s also why we are so thankful for you, our brothers and sisters who encourage us!  

"My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me."

John 10:27

Safe. Hidden. Comfortable. Independent.

Have you ever seen a snake shed it's skin?  My friend Amanda said it's itchy and uncomfortable and maybe even painful.  What is underneath is more beautiful, but not visible right away.  She said this is a picture of what I'm going through entering a new culture.

Living in a place where mosquitoes are killers and I have no framework for the noises I'm hearing out in the streets, my pursuit of safety feels threatened.

As a red-head carrying a blind five year old who looks African, but speaks English, through the streets, my core value of staying hidden is impossible.  There's no blending into the wall here!

When hot water doesn't come out of the faucet, and the towel and pillow I just bought a Kohl's are lost somewhere between Atlanta and Africa, I realize comfortable is going to take on a new definition here.

Not yet having a vehicle, a grasp of the language, or a clue where we are at any given time, I've realized in its absence how much I appreciate my independence.

Four days in and I've learned a little French, a little culture,  and a lot about myself.  A lot that is bound to change in the coming weeks as I have to let go of those things I have held close.  I can't stay in this new world pursuing safety, invisibility, comfort, and independence.  What that will look like, I do not know, but the purpose of pruning is bearing more fruit, so it will be worth it.

the soccer field across the street from the house where we stayed upon arriving

The Cost

In the following pictures you'll see oodles of smiles. The ONLY reason this is possible is that our extended family, even though their hearts were breaking, determined to enjoy our last day together. 

How did we do it?

Well, first we made it "Eat like a Hobbit day."  That's right: first breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, and supper.  For a really special memory, Philip took the big kids, plus four of their uncles, and three of their grandparents to a matinee show of The Hobbit.  While the group (pictured below) was at the theatre, my sisters came over to Mom's house and we had a cleaning/dance party.

 Then we all met up with friends at Panera Bread for our last dinner...... 

 Followed by a walk across the parking lot to Orange Leaf..... 

 More friends met us at Orange Leaf......

We basically took the place over!

After our big goodbye party, much of our family followed us to Mom's house like magical elves to clean out our car, label our luggage, sort through the leftovers, and entertain our kids. 

We could not have asked for a better last day together!

As the time has finally arrived to set out across the ocean,

 will you pray for the ones we are leaving behind? 

They bear the greatest load of this mission.

Life in Ten Suitcases (by Sara)

Four days of last week were devoted to packing, which looked more like: packing, shopping, purging, weighing, unpacking, shuffling, repacking. As we packed what is (to us Americans) an obscenely small amount of household items, we said everything from "This is never going to work." to "Oh yeah, we get another bag!" to "There is no way this will all fit." to "I can't believe how much stuff we get to bring." to "This has to last us 18 months?!" to "Shoot. 54 pounds. Take out four pounds!"

On the fourth day, just when the STUFF covered the floor and every inch of horizontal space, the Lord called me away to read from His word.  That day my Bible study fell in Philippians 4 where Paul has LEARNED the secret of living with plenty or with little.  Alternating between looking at our luggage through American eyes or through African eyes, you can see we have plenty and little at the same time!  I thought that this contentment was the lesson the Lord wanted me to see, but then I got to verse 18.  Literally sitting among bags you gave us packed with the shoes you bought us, the vitamins, can opener, and cooling pads you ordered us, and all the supplies we were able to buy with the money you have sent to support us, I burst into tears as I read:

"At the moment I have all I need - and more!  I am generously supplied with the gifts you sent me with Epaphroditus.  They are a sweet-smelling sacrifice that is acceptable and pleasing to God."

With hopefully only one more day of packing to go, we pack, shop, purge, weigh, unpack, shuffle, and repack with a renewed spirit, knowing our bags are filled with more than 50 lbs. of gear.  They are filled with sweet-smelling sacrifices to our Lord from you.