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.