Glueing Fruit on my Tree

About that conference I attended last week for the leaders over the Protestant schools, they had some interesting illustrations that have stuck with me. 

The first was, “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.”

This I had heard but someone added, “But there are not enough freezers to keep the elephant preserved until we can eat it, so we need to get busy eating.” This was to emphasize the urgency with which we need to work to improve these schools for the sake of the children and the glory of the Lord. 

The second illustration struck me personally. It was a picture of two trees, one with no fruit and one with lots of fruit. The question was made, “How do you get fruit on both trees? Do you cut fruit from the one and glue it to the one with none?” Obviously that sounds ridiculous! The fruit would die. Instead we need to change something about the environment of the tree without to encourage it to grow like the fruitful tree. 

It is ridiculous to think about cutting off fruit and glueing it on to the other. However, I have been guilty of doing that very thing in my own Christian walk. I have seen others with a meek countenance and read of its virtue and tried to make myself be meek in my response to others. It never seems to work very well. I was trying to glue fruit onto my tree. Instead, what I should have been doing was seeking how to make the changes and praying for the work of the Spirit to bring about real change. 

If you are like me and are trying to glue fruit onto your tree, just stop. Instead let us commit together to seek the Spirit for how we can grow and be fruitful. 

Nothing is Wasted!

I knew I was overdue for a post, but I did not realize how overdue. It has been a busy couple of months. We have been working hard at learning language, and I would venture to say pretty successful at doing so. The girls have adjusted to being in a school setting, though middle school for girls is just rough no matter where you are. They are all coming into their own personalities and strengths, and sometimes they clash, a lot. Life is not the same without William here on a daily basis, but we are only four weeks away from having all of our family under one roof again, provided the visas in our passports come back on time. 

Rich and I have also begun to see the purpose for which God brought us here. One of Rich’s roles will be to work with volunteer teams, which we so enjoyed helping with in Senegal. He will be serving as the urban strategist for the team, since our work keeps us in the city while all of our teammates are busy traveling, so our time in Dakar will come in handy. Another role of ours will be to work with local churches to disciple their members and thus reach their neighborhoods. We have been attending a French speaking service most of our Sundays, but we have also been able to attend Congolese churches with services in Lingala at least once a month. Rich’s propensity to learn languages, at least to greet, makes it easy for him to pick up on Lingala, even while we are still learning French. 

As for me, I knew coming into the work here would somehow relate to children. With over half of the millions of people in this city being children under the age of 18, there would be many to reach. In addition, we knew there would be street children, which we also were prepared for by Senegal. Months before our arrival, our supervisor began casting vision to the churches to improve their Sunday School programs, to really teach the children His Word. This week I had an opportunity to attend a conference to train leaders over the Protestant schools in how to transform and improve, such that God would be glorified in the schools. This is an area that our supervisor has a vision for us to be involved. Did I mention that my Masters is in Christian Education? Though it has laid dormant for a while, it seems that God has chosen this moment to utilize that degree. 

Nothing is wasted with the Lord! When you do not see why you go through something or feel like you wasted your time on a degree or living in a particular place, God can use it if we will offer it to Him. Nothing is wasted! 

Created with a Purpose

Our children are created the way they are for a purpose. I want to take the chance to encourage you mothers out there, especially those with a child that is strong willed and outspoken. Take heart! 

Over ten years ago, at a large gathering of coworkers, a speaker said, "God looks out over all the Southern Baptist churches and looks for the most stubborn people and sends them to West Africa." It did not sound like a compliment, but it was true. People who continue to serve and live in West Africa have to be pretty stubborn. 

So when we went back to the states and would speak to groups about our work, I would encourage those mothers of preschoolers that it may be that two year old who was testing her patience daily was meant to go to West Africa. God had a purpose for that child. 

Unfortunately, I tended to forget that when it came to my own child. Often in the trenches of motherhood, it can be easy to forget the truths. Often times I found myself striving against Mariama's strong will and even endeavoring to squelch it. Then I had to be reminded of my own words. 

So in recent years, I have tried to encourage her at times to "tone down the fabulousness so that others can catch up." I have tried to let her have places where she could express her vitality of life while learning to tone it down in other places. I have tried to give structure to her "joie de vivre." I have tried to remember that it is for a purpose, while still giving boundaries. 

Last week, I had the opportunity to get a glimpse of how she is meant to use that gift. While it was not the first time, it was certainly a defining moment. 

At her new school, the students in grades 6-9 get to prepare one week to teach students grades 1-5 the next week. The younger students get to choose which group they join. The older students can teach alone or in a group. (I might mention that Mariama is the only new student in grades 6-9.)

On the first day that the older students met together with the headmistress to learn how the program would work, Mariama and two of her new friends decided that they would work together. They would do some learning games. 

On the second day that they met, the two other girls started to separate to join other groups. Mariama encouraged them to stay together but that maybe sometimes they could do the learning games and sometimes they could collaborate with the other groups. The two girls agreed. 

Unfortunately, that was not the end of things. The group then discussed who of the younger students would be in their group and planned how to invite them to join the group. The other girls said that they would invite everyone except one little girl, "who talks too much," and a little boy, with autism, in Lydia-Ann's class. Mariama was going to have none of that. 

Mariama told them they needed to include everyone. Her colleagues disagreed. Not one to take things lying down, she proceeded to plead her case to the headmistress of the school. The headmistress was in full agreement with Mariama and encouraged her to insist that all be invited to join the group. So of course, Mariama did and won the group members over, whether they liked it or not. 

Then to take things a step further, that night, she sat down to handwrite a note to send home with every child that was interested in their group, asking them to bring a tomato for their gardening project this week. For the little boy with autism, because at first he said yes and then said no, she wrote a special note. She explained that the boy had said he was interested and then said he was not. If he was, she asked the parents to send a tomato also. However, she also listed all the other groups, so that maybe his parents could talk to him about what he wanted to do. 

I could only feel pride as she recounted this story to me and saw her writing each note with such care. I wish she would take such care with all of her writing, but if I have to choose between nice handwriting and sticking up for the rejected, defending the weak wins every time. 

To those mothers still very much in the trenches, remember your children are made the way they are for a purpose. I might need to reread this myself periodically to be reminded as well. They are "born for this." 

Boarding School, Really?

You might be thinking, "Why would you send your child to boarding school? Why would you make that change?" 

When we learned our first language overseas, we only had a toddler. I was able to leave him with a sitter to go to class, and then I took him along with me on visits and outings. So no schooling was involved for him.

When we learned our second language, we had a first grader and preschooler. While first grade was a crucial year, it did not take up all that much time to homeschool, still allowing for lots of study and practice times. 

Now we have a ninth, seventh, and second grader. These are all very crucial grades. They each require time to be done well. It does not leave much time for French lessons, much less study and practice time. With also looking at learning another language in a year or so, it would be best to make the shift from homeschool to other options now rather than delaying the inevitable. 

"Aren't there good public schools to which you can send your children?" 

Actually, there are a few public schools funded by the government. The government does not invest a lot of money in the system here.  All schools are therefore basically private in that you pay for them. 

"Aren't there good schools in your city?" 

Yes, there are actually some really good schools. 

There are French and Belgium schools, but making the switch to all school subjects in another language can be very difficult in the upper grades. 

There are other small schools that have lots of benefits, but they may or may not have all the future grades. If he cannot continue at the school throughout high school, the credits he takes there may or may not be accepted when he transfers. Why make it easier now just to make it harder later? 

There is an American School here, which offers all grades and is all in English, however it is cost prohibitive. 

"What? Cost prohibitive? Isn't boarding school expensive?" 

Actually it is cheaper to send William to this boarding school and pay for flights back and forth each trimester than for him to attend the American school in our city. 

For that matter, the boarding school actually costs less than the small, English school, which only goes up to ninth grade right now, that we are looking at for the girls. 

"How can you let your child go away? Don't you love him? Won't you miss him?" 

Absolutely! I will miss him and I love him dearly! This is the reason for so many years in our village, I insisted that I would home school our children all the way through. Even when I saw a lack of Christian friends for him there, I believed we could be enough to encourage his growth. At that time, I could not imagine sending him a twelve hour, and later only a ten hour, drive away in the same country. 

Now we are sending him across the continent to a different country!

"So what changed?" 

About five years ago, as I thought about friends sending their children away to college, I thought how hard it would be to send them back across the ocean. I thought about how few years we still would have him. I thought about our friends sending their children to boarding school. I could never do that. I have so much to teach him. I could never teach him all that I wanted to before he went to boarding school. Then I looked in The Word. 

Moses' mother had him for three months before she had to place him in the river, but then she got to have him until he was weaned, maybe two or three years. Then Samuel, for whom his mother pleaded for years, was also dedicated to the service of the Lord and left at the temple when he was weaned. Jesus was "lost" by his parents at the age of twelve but was found sitting with the teachers in the temple and he himself was teaching.  Now I am not calling my son the deliverer, a prophet, and definitely not the Savior, but there was comfort in finding that other mothers had to trust that their children were ready and instilled with enough knowledge, virtue, etc., to let them go early. 

Then three years ago, I began my battle with cancer. The day before William's eleventh birthday, I had my first chemo treatment. Amidst the battle, there were times  I wondered what would happen if I did not survive and had to leave my family. Had I taught them everything they needed to know? When it came to the things most important, I could say, "yes." While there are a lot of gaps in my children's upbringing, loving God and loving others are not on the list of gaps. 

"So why boarding school? Why now?" 

Our kids love watching "Once Upon a Time." A recurring phrase regarding the children is to "give them their best chance." At this point in time, this is what we need to do to give William his best chance. 

Pray for us all as we transition, including his sisters who love him so much. 

(P.S. Mariama will miss William, but is looking forward to taking over his room and having her own room for the first time in her life!)

Keep Your Dirt Swept

Sunday before last at church, I heard about a common practice here in this country that I had heard about in other parts of the continent as well, but it was explained in a different way. The Truth of it came alive for me later that week. 

Across this country, there are lots of places that are not paved, even here in the capital. None the less, the people will sweep the dirt to keep it looking nice, but the reasons go much deeper. In other places, I had heard it explained that they swept to make it smooth, so that a snake's trail could be easily seen when it goes into a house. However, here, they say it is to keep grass from growing close to the house, so that there is nowhere for the snake to hide to get near the house. 

I don't know about you, but I certainly like the idea of it not getting in the house in first place rather than just knowing if it has gotten there. Maybe that is why the Bible admonishes us to not even give the enemy an opportunity. Ephesians 4:26-27 says, "In your anger, do not sin. Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold." 

Over the next few days, I saw how it played out in real life. From all the moving, I had let little things build up in my heart against my family members. With Rich being gone for over a week, I had allowed the bickering between my daughters to become bickering within me. Instead of keeping my dirt swept on a daily, even moment by moment basis, I had allowed seeds of discontent to grow.  I was miserable and causing everyone else to be so as well. 

A couple of days into it, I had to ask for prayer for my health. In the midst of praying, the prayers for my well being went so much deeper than stomach issues. In seeking out the cause for my stomach issues, I discovered the root cause of my discontent. I was not going to have anymore of it. I told the enemy to get out, not unlike the scene in "War Room." I decided to focus on The Lord and the Word. 

The way we do battle is with praising the Father, not giving too much attention to the enemy. We know his schemes to recognize them, but we are to set our hearts and minds on things above. Because she was too focused on the enemy, Mariama recently had let things that she needed to know to be more security conscious turn to anxiety, but I admonished her to change her focus. Philippians 4:8 tells us, "Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, let your mind dwell on these things." 

This week my personal Bible study has been on forgiveness. It has shined a light on places in my life that I had let unforgiveness, towards myself as well as others, take root, in spite of saying that I had forgiven.  I have pulled up weeds of discontent. I encourage you to examine your life for the areas that seeds of unforgiveness or discontent or other seeds have begun to take root. 

Keep your dirt swept, not just to see when the enemy enters, but do not even give him a chance to get near the house. 

Being Grateful in Midst of Sanctification

Certain times of life or circumstances expose our human nature more than others. Our need for continued sanctification is exposed by these events as well. Sometimes it is big things liked a loved one dying or battling cancer one's self. Sometimes it is the every day things like being married, parenting, or moving. When trying to do those last three all at once, the need for lots of sanctification is exposed. This last week has been both exciting and stressful, and there have been some sanctifying moments. 

My husband and I have different ways of doing things. Shocker!   He is more of "let's go ahead and buy everything we need now," where as I am "let's see what we have already from others and what we can get by with until our stuff arrives." One means you spend money needlessly, like on cheese slicers you already have, and the other means you do not have things you need, like a spatula to be able to flip fried eggs. 

Amidst all of the shopping to stock the house with cleaning supplies and food to eat, parenting is a challenge. On one hand, it is better if both mother and father can go shopping, as explained in the above paragraph, and on the other it means toting all the children along as well. My children, who are normally obedient and respectful, have too much energy to stand ten minutes while we decide which cans of tomatoes is the best deal and take two hours to get through one grocery store or to even sit still in a beautiful apartment while we talk and wait on their father to return from purchasing a refrigerator. It might not bother me so much when they disobey, except that I know they are capable of so much better. They say they have so much energy because they are excited about our new place, new things to see, and new people to get to know, but I know some of it is the stress of it all as well.  

After many months of not being in our own space, I am so ready to be settled. However, I do not just want to throw everything somewhere. I want to be able to place things well. While that is a great idea, it is not really practical when you have four other people asking where everything is.  It is further complicated when the house is new and things like the water heater is not hooked up right and the electrical outlet the fridge is plugged into goes berserk. 

As a result, I have not been gracious in all of my responses to my husband and children. I have been short with them and in tears over things not being the way they "should be" or more stuff being purchased when I just start to get things settled. This mother bird is finding it hard to nest with the chicks in the nest already, in a place still very unfamiliar to her. "Where there are no animals, the stable is clean." I will be thankful that my nest is full, even if it is not in order. One day we will feel settled and have a routine, but today is not that day. So in the midst of the crazy, I will search for things for which to give thanks. 

We're Not in Kansas Anymore, Toto!

I keep saying this phrase. Everything is so different. It is definitely still Africa, but it is also not Senegal. 

Senegal had mountains, but it was not densely populated in that area. Dakar is densely populated, but comparatively speaking was flat as it is a peninsula. 

On the other hand, Congo has lots of mountains, and the capital of Kinshasa has lots of people on what I would consider mountain, though some would call hills. 

I thought I would be able to handle driving on one lane roads, but one lane roads up and down hills are a different animal. I am not as prepared for driving as I thought I would be. On the flip side, the landscape is really beautiful, lots of green when we go up and down the hills. The green has the added bonus of keeping everything from being dusty like it was in Senegal. 

Senegal, being a mostly Muslim country, had taxis everywhere with markings on them honoring their religious leaders and mosques on every block. Congo, being a culturally Christian country, has mini-buses that say "Glory to God," barber shops called "Tout est Grace," (All is grace) and fashion shops called "Jehovah Jireh." In fact, the city seems almost devoid of taxis altogether, but in actuality they are there though not yellow like the taxis in Senegal.

In Senegal, even in Dakar, every block it seemed had a fruit or vegetable stand, or both, and local boutiques where most necessities could be bought. Thus far in Kinshasa, in the neighborhoods, the fruit and vegetable stands are few and far between as are the boutiques. It may be that they are more common in other neighborhoods, but not so much as we have seen. There are other streets where there seems to be nothing but boutiques, though very little in the way of homes, more like a market with one boutique after another.

In Dakar, while there are lanes marked, more often than not people would make extra lanes by driving down the line between the lanes. Yesterday, driving in town, we were struck by the fact that all cars were staying in their lanes. It did not mean that they were not changing lanes quickly or that they were not moving across all four lanes to stop rather than being near the side as they approached their stop. In many places there were lanes for the minibuses to pull over. Occasionally I did see what looked like people using the shoulder of the road as a turn lane, but that's normal, right? Make no mistake however, there are crazy places of traffic, one turn in particular, that is jammed up most all of the time.  In Dakar, while they make more lanes and drive crazy, you can find most people doing things to not block traffic and having some semblance of realizing that if they block traffic, no body goes anywhere, even including the person doing the blocking.  Here, it is every person for themselves and this causes tie-ups that leads to everyone sitting for periods of time with no one looking out for anyone else.

Clothing is also different. I knew that going into it, but it seems very weird still. While we were in Kenya and then when we arrived in Congo, I wore jeans but mostly with a long top. Saturday, I wore jeans again, since not all of our bags had arrived. Just before we were going to go out, we found some of my clothes. I began to go change into a long skirt. Our team mate said that I would be ok in jeans. I asked if she was sure and then went out and about in jeans. We were going to see our house and meet our landlady, who was also wearing jeans. Pants and shorter hemlines on skirts for women make one more difference to get used to.  The men too dress differently.  In Senegal, being a Muslim country, even in the capital city lots of men wore long robes made from local colorful fabric.  Here, they still have colorful fabric, but men only wear button-up shirts made from them.  We have seen only one young man wearing a long robe, which of course stuck out like a sore thumb here.  Because we knew this ahead of time, Rich had gotten rid of all his West African clothes and is dressing in more Western fashions of jeans, t-shirts, Polos and button-up shirts; however, it is still strange to see. 

In Senegal, every shop, boutique, store, market table and fruit vendor took only the West African Franc.  It made paying for everything very easy, but it made it difficult when we went back to the States as we had to either keep a stash of US dollars with us or hit the first ATM we came across in the first airport we landed every time we returned to the States.  Here in the DRC, they use TWO forms of money.  The DR-Congo Franc (CDF), and yes, US dollars!  But, all the prices are in Congolese Francs in every store you go into, so you still have to do the math of conversion as you shop.  But even the little lady selling bread at the few tables we have found, will take a five dollar bill for thirteen cents worth of bread (200CDF) and give you change back in Francs.  Even the ATMs will spit out crisp US bills, which is convenient because if it has even the smallest nick in the edge, people will not take it.  

Even now, I am typing this while waiting on our teammates to arrive. Their schedule is not going like they expected. In Senegal, we would say, "WAWA-- West Africa Wins Again!" Things may be different here and we may instead say, "TIA--This is Africa," but it is sure to become home as much as Senegal was. The One who called us there has called us here and will one day call us to our true home. 

How to Get a Visa in 10 Days

Two months ago, we had a friend who tried to get a visa to the Democratic Republic of Congo, our future home. She is still waiting. So when we went earlier this month to apply for our visas, I confess that we were not very optimistic. We were hanging onto a thread of hope, confident that God was calling us there. We had asked many to pray that we would be looked on with favor and that a way would be made for the visas to come through quickly. Here is what happened. 

On the last Friday of April, we had off from class, but we still did not have all of our invitations from the church in Congo. So Tuesday, May 2nd, we went straight to the embassy after French class. While I walked over to the display board showing what hours the offices were open, the guard came out to greet my husband. The guard mentioned to Rich a few of the things we would need. Rich let him know that we had everything. Meanwhile, in reading the hours posted, I saw that Tuesday and Thursdays were for picking up visas and that Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were for dropping off paperwork.  Even if it was Tuesday to drop off paperwork, we were there after the hours posted to get seen. Despite us being late for office hours and it being a Tuesday, the guard invited us inside. 

We waited for our turn to see the office manager, a Senegalese who handles the incoming paperwork and the passports to receive the visas. We greeted the lady as we walked into the office. Though we do not speak her people group language, we were able to speak with her in Wolof. When she heard our Senegalese names, she knew that we were really Pulaar. Her people group in the far past had the Pulaar as slaves. She jokingly called us her slaves. I agreed, because if nothing else, we were dependent on her getting those visas for us. She looked at all of our paperwork. She noticed a few things that maybe were not exact, but she said would work. She noticed a few blanks that I had skipped, because I did not want to write the wrong things in the wrong blanks. She told us how much all the visas would be. Rich left to get money at the ATM across the street, while I stayed and finished the forms with her help. After handing everything to her, I waited. She said that it should take ten days. Finally she said, it was good and we could go. I made sure to let her know that I was waiting for her dismissal, because I am her slave after all. 

The next week, I began to wonder if she meant ten days or ten working days. So on May 12, Rich called to touch base with her. She asked how the weather is in our Pulaar town. He told her it was hot but that we were not there. She asked if we were staying in town waiting on our visas. For the ease of explanation, he replied in the affirmative. She said to call back the next week. 

So the next Tuesday, the tenth working day, I called her again. When I called, I made sure to call her my king and let her know it was her slave calling. She said that she was not at work but to try back the next day at 11:00. So I called again on Wednesday, at 11:00, as she said. As it happened, it was a holiday in Congo, so no one was working that day. She said to call back again the next day, at 11:00 again. 

I called back at precisely the time she gave me. She said that her boss had not been in long so she had not yet asked. She said to call back at 13:00. I called back at precisely 13:00. She said that her boss had been out and told me to call back at 15:30. At this point, I am starting to wonder if we are getting the run around. However, as long as she kept giving me specific times to call, I was going to keep calling. If nothing else, I was going to be like the widow who kept petitioning the unjust judge and got what she sought because of her persistence. 

That afternoon, on our way to Mariama's volleyball game, I called again, introducing myself as her slave as I had every other time. This time she told me to bring all the passports at 10:30 the next morning, and we would get the visas done. 

Since we were on the way to the game, we had a mother of one of Mariama's teammates in the truck with us. They are seasoned veterans, having been here in country before we moved here in 2004, however everyone does things differently. I was a little worried what this seasoned lady would think. She totally agreed with how we were handling the situation. She even suggested getting a small gift to give to the lady after it was done, not before so as not to look like a bribe, but after to celebrate and thank her. 

So Friday morning, Rich and I showed up with all five of our passports. We waited for several others to go in, and then they called Rich's Senegalese name. We greeted and once again referred to ourselves as her slaves. She made notes and placed them on the passports. Then she told us to call at 15:00, and then she would tell us to come pick them up at 16:00. It made me nervous to leave them, but I had to trust her. At 15:15, Rich called to see if the passports were ready. She told us to come quickly. 

We arrived and walked straight into her office. She presented to us the passports, each with their own visa printed inside. I presented her with the gift I had brought. She was so happy. She told us that she had plead our case on our behalf, so that the visas would be done quickly. We thanked her so much. We thanked God as well. 

This week, as I recounted this story to another seasoned coworker, she said she generally takes pastries when going to those types of offices as well. Maybe I should take some before we leave in two weeks, or maybe just remember that for next time. 

Why Does It Matter How I wrap my Skirt?

Today was one of those days that I am so glad we are in the language class we are. Rich and I are the only students who have been in this country more than a year, and we are certainly the only ones with village experience. Our teachers are from the capital cities of Ivory Coast and DRCongo. 

Every day we have a thirty minute break in the middle of our class. Sometimes we stay in French but relax a bit. Sometimes we talk in English.  Sometimes we talk about culture. Sometimes we talk about nothing important. Today we talked about important. 

An American lady also learning French but further along than we are was wearing a lovely top that sparked a lively discussion about local clothing that is revealing by our standards but not by theirs, compared to things we think nothing of but are revealing in this culture. Rich shared that even how the wrap skirt is tied can be a sign of a prostitute. One of the ladies insisted that it did not matter because she is not one and can wear it however she chooses. I likened it to a conversation we had recently in our small group regarding nose piercings and anklets in our future home. (Yep, gotta get rid of that nose ring before we move, so people do not think I am a "working girl".)

After some time passed during which the insistent lady left the room, she returned and sat beside me. When the conversation died down and I thought we were going to resume class, she asked, "why does it matter how you wear your skirt?" 

I began with the practical answer. The people here already have an idea about what Christians are like, because they think all television from America reflects Christian values and all Americans are Christians. As a result, men often will speak to me in a way that they ought not to speak. Since they think we are promiscuous anyway, I will break that idea if I can. 

Secondly but more importantly, I referred to the Bible. Paul said that he would become all things to all people that some might be saved. If how I wrap my skirt is going to distract someone from hearing the Gospel, I am going to avoid it. In this culture it is believed that a woman in that time of the month is unclean and that God cannot hear her prayers. Some things need to be addressed, and some things just do not matter. I eat pork, but not in front of my Muslim friends. If things like nail polish and how I wrap my skirts is going to get in the way, then let go of it. 

She was grateful for the explanation, and I was so glad she asked. After class I remembered another story about a topic that did not need to be let go. I went back to her and told her of the time one of Rich's friends took us to his village. While there, he took us to visit his fiancée, who was sick. I asked to pray for her to feel better. As I began to pray, the friend laughed. I am to this day not completely sure why he laughed. Maybe it was the idea of a white person praying. Maybe it was the idea of a woman praying. Maybe because I dared to call God my Father. Whatever the reason, I paused my prayer to inform him that he was not going to disrespect my prayer time, because I would not disrespect his, and I returned to my prayer time. 

When it is worth making a deal about, stand up for what is right, absolutely. However, when it is of little or no consequence, let it go for the sake of the Gospel. 

I Did It My Way?

Regrets, I've had a few.

There are so many things that I wish I had done since we moved away from our village  a year ago. Some examples are:
0. Gotten Mariama braces. That poor baby's teeth just do not fit in her mouth.
0. Let William take surfing lessons.
0. Taken the kids to do pottery on a regular basis, even if it was all the way across town.
0. Had Mariama get guitar lessons.

It was so hard to think about starting those things, when we never knew how long we were going to be here in the capital before going to our next location. When we did find out, it was like a fast moving train and holding on for dear life to stay on board.

There are so many reasons to be glad that we have been here for this transition time.
0. Getting used to city traffic. While here may not have the traffic of our next location, just by shear numbers of people, it is considerably closer I suspect than what traffic was like in our village. (We might need a defensive driving class when we go back to the states and not need to drive our first week or so, after driving offensively overseas.)
0. We have finally been able to make a shift from buying groceries for months at a time to weeks.
0. I had one type of attire in the village. I have been able to transition to a variety of clothing options while here in the city dependent on where I am going, what I will be doing, and with whom I will be doing it. This will be important in my next location as well.
0. Kids have been able to attend school for a semester. While there are those activities that I wish I had done, this has offered them a lot of extra activities as well. Not the same activities, but still good. Girls have been able to do pottery, and William has been able to learn more about computers. William has done archery and Mariama is learning to play volleyball.

Jesus told us to not worry about tomorrow, for today has enough trouble of its own. Looking back is good to learn lessons, but dwelling on it will not change anything. While there are things I often wish I had done differently, the only day I can really do anything about is today. While there are lots of things I wish I had done, most days I can look back and say, "I listened to His voice and cared for my family, doing the best I could do." Today is a gift, which is why it is called the present.

But (I hope) I did it His way.

More than 11 down, less than 3 to go.

Eleven months ago, we left our home down south. While the event that prompted the timing of our move was sudden. The Lord had been working in our hearts before that day.

We returned to the field in September 2015. When we did so, we did it with an impending feeling of urgency. We did not know if it was because of my cancer possibly returning or some other medical issue. We did not know what was going to happen in the months to come, but both Rich and I sensed the need to be busier than ever before about the work, making the most of every day. I spent a lot of time trying to pour into "Jennifer" as well as some of the other ladies, while Rich was empowering the men believers and encouraging the pastor. As the months passed by, the feeling got stronger. When a lot of changes happened in our company, we assumed the move would be related to some restructuring in connection with the changes. However, without any real reason to think the move was imminent other than our gut feelings, we still made some changes to our home to prepare for the coming hot season.

Then April came. In the first week, we went from helping one young man to him giving us a clear sign that it was time to leave, now. So we came to the capital and for the next few days talked and prayed through what we were to do next. The clear answer we got was to not return to our home. Where were we going to go? We did not know that, but we knew where we were not going.

In the last two months, I have been rereading through Acts. I realized again that God does indeed prevent going to certain places, even when we do not understand why. God also made it clear to Paul when it was time to leave a place, but before he left, Paul would encourage the brethren. God had lead us to encourage the brethren before we left and was leading us to leave.

Over the next few months, some possibilities presented themselves. Some were great options to use the languages we already have but did not meet my new medical needs. Other options that would meet our medical needs were not the best fit for our languages. Still other options would meet our medical options but the obtaining of visas was sure to be challenging. Finally, we were presented with the position to where we are now going.

Rich has always enjoyed playing devil's advocate, finding out why people believe the way they do. In fact when we were dating, road trips were filled with conversations in which " because the Bible says so" was not quite enough. I had to be able to tell him where it said it and how it related to other verses that seemingly contradicted whatever I said I believed. Since a young teen, I have been burdened by those who say they believe but walk contradictory to what they say, though not always perfect myself, or claimed to turn to Jesus with some other motivation. When we were presented with the opportunity to work with churches who are in desperate need of discipleship, the calling was clear. Living in a city where over half of the population is under 18 would also give opportunity for me to use that Masters in Religious Education focusing on Children that has been "on the shelf" for the last thirteen years.

Between living in a town of less than 100,000 and moving to a city of 12 million, we have been living in a city of 3 million. While not the same size, it has been a good transition time for us. We have had to get used to this type of traffic again. We have gotten used to being able to blend in more than we did in our "small" town. The pace of life is much faster. The kids have been able to attend school this semester, preparing them for whatever the next thing is for them. We are starting to figure out how to buy groceries for a few weeks at a time rather than a few months.

With less than three months left to our move, we are beginning the process of imploding. (That is what has to happen after you explode living in one place for over 11 months.) Pray that we will learn French well and finish our time here strong.

Their Best Chance

Why Did We Move from Home Schooling to a School Setting?

When we came to the field with school age children in 2009, I realized we would need to home school. William was the only student at the time. We jumped into first grade while I learned language. It was not too bad to juggle. First grade did not have too much to do and we could just do the basics. The next year was a little more challenging with a second grader and kindergartner and infant in my lap, but it still worked toward the end of my language learning.

Last year, as we began to look to a new direction in ministry, we began by praying about places where we could still use the languages we already have, with little to no additional language study. However, the Lord had other plans.

As we began hearing about this other position, it was obvious more language study would be needed. I had taken French classes growing up, but I am quite rusty, in spite of living in a French speaking country. Rich has never had French classes. The country to which we are going is a French speaking country, with neither one of our current people group languages being prevalent there. French would be our first language to learn in going there, and some time down the road, we will learn another people group language. Despite our hopes that we would be able to avoid a lot of language study, the Lord had other plans.

Last month before the holidays, we were given approval for our new position, however it was difficult to get the lessons up and going. We had talked with all the language coaches, who were encouraging of us to learn French as a family, offering our children the opportunity to learn how to communicate and thus make friends in our new location. With the beginning of the new year, we were all searching for a language helper who could work with us as a family. Living in a French speaking country should make it easy to find someone who can teach us French.  The challenge comes in finding someone who can teach French but does not speak either of the people group languages that we speak, because that would create temptation to speak in a language other than French.

Last week, Tuesday I believe, an email was sent out that a local French language learning program has openings for three students. Our language coach got a call Wednesday morning from the prospective teacher for us turning down the position. Our coach here quickly reserved two spots in the other program in case. Wednesday afternoon, we skyped with our language coach in our new place. We talked through the many options. We could continue to look for someone to teach our family as a whole and be able to arrive there in April, go ahead and move there in February and then do language there, or attend this other language learning program and move there some time in July. All of these options had their pros and cons. So we said we would pray about the options for the next two days.

One of my best friends has a special ringtone for her husband on her cell phone. She always knows when it is him calling her. The ringtone is the song, "It takes two to make a thing go right." That is so true. It takes both Rich and I to make things go right. He has said in the past that he sees which way to go and moves but that I take more time and hesitate. I used to take offense to that, because I thought it somehow meant a lack of faith on my part. Over the last few months, I have come to realize it is true, but both are good and necessary. He can see which way to steer us, but I read the map on how to get there.

Thursday morning, we met with our supervisors here to have our end of the year review. We talked a lot about the past year as well as the year to come. We came to the agreement that we should go to this new language learning program, but we had an idea of how to go about getting schooling for our children taken care of as well. That afternoon, we heard from the supervisors in our new location that they really wanted us to stay here for this other language learning program.

That being decided, I contacted our TCK consultant to run the idea we had for the kids schooling by her. She instead was very encouraging to send the children to the school here, particularly since we would be here the rest of the the school year and the new semester would begin in just days. She emphasized that I would better be able to focus on language study if they were in school. In light of the fact that we have lots more language study ahead of us, it seemed prudent to go this way.

So Friday morning, our supervisors here checked with the school on what we needed to do to get the kids enrolled. Rich subsequently spent the rest of the day filling out applications for each child. Saturday I spent catching up on grading and recording grades so that the school would have an idea where our kids are at educationally. We all rested on Sunday. Monday morning, we were at the school to interview, which was less of an interview and more of an orientation of sorts.

Amidst all of this, I was reading a book called The Dreambuilders: The Story of the Forts of Africa. In addition to recounting the medical ministry of the Forts, it also recounts their family life. This couple sent their eldest children ages 11 and 9 to boarding school 250 miles away. Knowing the caliber of these children as adults, I found comfort in knowing my own children would be okay in this new setting. God loves them even more than I do. This is a great opportunity for them to learn and for me to get the language I will need.

Overseas, education can look very different, from child to child and year to year. As one of our favorite shows says, we want to give them their best chance, whatever that means.