The One is Worth It

A couple of weeks ago, Rich and I lead a training for the first time in French with our friends and colleagues leading the parts we did not have down yet. As you likely saw on our family ministry page at some point, the training is called, “Tell His Story, tell it often, tell it well...so that it becomes a way of life.” The training is three days long. 

On the first day, we present the orality approach to communicating and the Great Commission as what we are all to be doing. Then we teach them the story of the demoniac from Mark 5. All stories are followed by five questions to help them think through what the Word is saying. Then the group is sent out by twos to share with those in the community and then report back. They then are given home work to retell both the Great Commission story and the story of the demoniac with others that evening. Day two begins with reporting on how their storytelling went the evening before and with teaching Creation and Fall and then Abraham. After learning these stories, participants are taught how to properly give their testimony of salvation, which often results in some realizing that they are not actually saved. The day ends with a retelling of both Creation and Fall with Abraham as one story and the challenge to retell those stories with their testimony that evening. Day three begins with reporting on their storytelling and then goes into teaching about the Prophets and Jesus. The day ends with a retelling of the five parts (Creation and Fall, Abraham, Prophets, Jesus, and the Great Commission) in one story that takes about ten minutes. 

At this last training, on the first day, Rich taught the Great Commission Story, and then I taught the story of the Demoniac. The questions sparked lots of good answers. The questions included “what did you like about this story?” and “what did you not like about this story?” One of the things that was pointed out that was not liked was that Jesus did not let the man who had been healed follow him but rather told him to return to his family and village and tell all that the Lord had done for him. Jesus left him alone to be a light there. 

I was in tears at this point. I did share with the group why. My heart still hurts that we had to leave our home in Senegal as quickly as we did. My heart hurts that we were not able to continue to disciple the believers there. My heart aches for those few left alone to carry out the work. But God spoke to my heart in that moment, in front of that group of believers in Congo. Even if there was only one that came from Jesus crossing the sea that day, he was worth it. Even if he was left alone physically, he was not left alone in spirit. Even if the number of believers in the village in Senegal were not as high as we would have wanted them to be in order to have strong support, they were not left alone, but they were left with the Holy Spirit. Even if there was only one that came because of our time there, that one would be worth it. 

God heals in His own time, whether it be the demoniac or me or my children. God has brought us to Congo. A lot of healing is needed in a lot of lives. He is the only one that can heal. Trust Him to heal you too when you come humbly before Him! 

Fighting a Battle I was not Meant to Fight

So earlier today I posted about some things I learned last week. This morning as I was thinking about sharing that post, a new lesson came to mind. 

I am a sinner. (Not a new lesson.) I needed a Savior to make me right with God because I could not do it on my own. (Also not new.) I cannot do this life on my own, so I need the Spirit to enable me. (Not new but reminded.) 

Last night in a Study with friends, we were reading 2 Chronicles 20. The people sought the Lord in prayer and fasting because their enemies were coming against them. All the people—- men, women, children, little ones—- were in the temple praying. The Lord revealed that the army was to go out praising the Lord for what He would do and then stand by to see His deliverance. Then the people returned to Jerusalem once again praising Him. 

I have been trying to fight a battle against the enemy—-myself, my sin— that I was not meant to fight. I need to seek the Lord in prayer, recall His faithfulness in the past, praise Him as I go into battle —-live my daily life—- and stand to see His deliverance. When I see that deliverance, I will continue the praising. 

“Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God’s.” V. 15

Thankful to have a better battle plan than the one I have been using lately. 

“Give thanks to the Lord, for His love endures forever.” V. 21

As a result of the other lesson and this one, yesterday and today have gone much smoother than the last two weeks have. Grateful to God for His deliverance and giving Him praise. His love indeed endures forever! 

Looking at Things All Wrong

In the past, when asking why God gave my children to me rather than someone else, I have comforted myself, and likewise others, that He had some purpose in giving them to me and not someone else. So I should not try to be like someone else. When asking myself why He has brought me to serve Him where we do, I knew it was His calling but somehow thought also because He desired to use gifts that He had placed within me. 

Last week though, under the strain of the weight of my sin, I began to wonder again. (No one knows the weight of our sin like we ourselves.) Why did God call me here to minister, when I remain weighted down by my own sin? Why would God give me this husband and children when I find myself cursing them more than blessing them with my words? How can He ever use me in the work here? Why does my family have to put up with me? 

Then as I read in 1 Samuel and read in Pslams, it occurred to me again that He did not choose me to serve Him in this place or care for my family for the sake of others. He has put me in a place where I realize my complete lost ness without Him so that I can be completely dependent on Him. Everything in our lives is to make us more like Jesus, to make us holy as He is holy, to sanctify us. 

God did not bring me here to serve because there is something in me but to do a work in me. Being in this place at this time is to be sanctifying, to make me holy, even if it means exposing my sin to me so that I can be cleansed of it. God did not give me my children because I deserve them (because I don’t) but to teach me to depend on Him for wisdom and grace and joy when I am foolish. God gave me my husband (bless his heart) to teach me to submit myself and honor another, rather than thinking of myself. Twenty-one years of marriage, and I am still learning to respect him as God has instructed me to do. 

I am a work in progress. I am not what I once was, and I am not yet what I should be. He who began this good work in me is faithful to complete it on that day Christ returns. I apologize to those around me who have to suffer with my sinfulness until that day. If you see me letting my flesh overpower the Spirit within me, help me see it. Please do not let me continue that way. Show me, too, some grace, and I promise to show you some too. 

Soldiers Fall on the Field of Battle

Missionaries who die as a result of militants attacking where they are serving are fallen soldiers in a spiritual battle, right?  I mean, that is a no brainer. But what about those who are just going about their daily lives and find themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time, like eating at a restaurant? What about those who die of illness, because I would not have said my cancer was necessarily a spiritual battle?  Or what about a car accident? Those things happen in the comforts of their home country too, right? So, are they still fallen soldiers in the spiritual battle? Tragic events, yes, but fallen soldiers in battle? 

I confess that I did not always think so. I thought of it as the same as if they died in their home country, since it was in a means that could easily happen there. Maybe that was because I was wanting to comfort my parents that car accidents could happen anywhere. On March 12, a car accident occurred near my parents house and there too was loss of life. So what makes it different, what changed for me to realize I was wrong? 

Randy and Kathy Arnett came to Congo to lead a training on Neopentecostalization, to equip pastors with the Word to “battle” the prosperity heresy that is so prevalent. This training would equip these soldiers to do battle in the enemy territory. On March 14, Randy and Kathy headed to the interior of Congo with Jeff and Barbara Singerman. When I first heard about the accident and about Kathy’s death, I was stunned and yet knew immediately that this was warfare. The enemy was not going to let go of his stronghold easily. I was with my language helper who offered comfort that soldiers fall on the battle field. 

Later, as we heard about Randy, I was even more sure of the battle that was being waged. Randy’s work to educate and equip pastors for this battle had spread all over Africa and was taking back places that the enemy had blinded. Now, who would take up that mantle? Who would lead the soldiers into battle? 

The next day as a sweet Congolese friend and her husband visited Barbara Singerman in the hospital, they repeated the phrase my language helper had shared about soldiers falling in battle. 

I was wrong. I had been wrong for a long time. Yes, car accidents do happen in my home country and can be fatal, but the fact remains, it was the work of the Lord that had Randy and Kathy Arnett in Congo at that time, on that road. They died on the field of battle. As a couple, they looked forward to years ahead in service to the Lord and yet were also aware of His sovereignty. 

That Congolese couple as they visited with Barbara stressed the importance that the rest of us as soldiers would continue to press forward into enemy territory and raise the Lord’s banner. 

So that is what we will do. We will do battle. We will take back territory from the enemy. We will raise the Lord’s banner. We will not let the lives of our fellow soldiers be lost in vain. 

Palm Sunday In a New Light

Whenever I have contemplated Palm Sunday, I have been struck by how fickle humanity can be. One day they are singing, “Hosanna,” to Jesus as he entered Jerusalem, and just a few days later the people are yelling, “Crucify Him!” How quickly and easily people can change. Though I knew this, I continued to be stupefied by this drastic contrast. 

Recently, I have come to have a new look at this day. 

In the culture in which we now live, the whole process from death to burial is the funeral arrangements. The place where the body lays and the family grieves has its own name. The grieving place is a place where friends and family can visit and grieve together. Many will spend the night before the burial together, sleeping in the same place as the departed loved one. Many of the tribes here will pass the night singing together. In order to help people to know where the grieving place is, a palm branch will be placed in the ground down the road from and be pointed toward the grieving place. 

The palm branch points toward the grieving. 

What never made sense to me before, the joy of waving palm branches and singing preceding the cross, now makes sense. The palm branches point to the grief ahead. 

But O the joy that lays on the other side for those that know the rest of the story! Death does not have the last word! Jesus’ resurrection conquers death and brings life everlasting to those that follow Him! Jesus alone changes our mourning into rejoicing. 

Trust the Process!

I keep repeating these three words on a weekly, sometimes daily basis. 

Learning language is difficult no matter how you do it. No method is perfect. It can be frustrating to not be able to say all you want to say when you want to say it. No matter how many words you have, there is always at least one you really wish you knew or could pronounce correctly. 

The program we have gone to using in the last couple of years is called the Growing Participator Approach. In a lot of ways it is patterned after how we learn our first language as children. We first only hear it, then we speak though simply, and then we begin to speak well and begin to read. Rather than a teacher or professor, we have nurturers who nurture us into the new culture, in similar way that our parents nurtured us into their community. While the approach has a beginning, there is no real end because we are always learning something new about this new culture. 

Last year as we began this approach to learning French, our language coach kept repeating those three little words. Now as I coach our new teammates, I find myself repeating the same words. After a month, they already have almost 900 words in their word log. One may start to point to an object and then pulls the hand back as they second guess themselves. “Trust the process!” Then they begin to point without overthinking it. Same thing happens when they start to speak. They begin to say the word they want to say but stop themselves in the middle of the word. “Trust the process!” Then they begin to let the words flow, may not be conjugated exactly, but they are only a month in to it. 

Last week, as I thought about it and was having my quiet time, I heard God whispering those same three words. “Trust the process!” Trust what He is doing in William’s life and stop trying to fix everything. “Trust the process!” Trust what He is doing in my life and stop fighting against it. Surrender to His work in me. Stop trying to think I can do better or trying to do it in my own strength. Let Him shape me and mold me into the person He created me to be. “Trust the process!” Whether we ever see our stuff from Senegal or not, we are here now where God has moved us, and He is providing for us. 

So to whatever you might be going through, “Trust the process!” 

Living Like We Are Leaving

We recently returned from a vacation, where we had lots of fun, but we were glad to return “home.” We returned to the place we call home which is where most of our stuff is, and hopefully the rest will be soon, and where our residency visa says we live. Others say our home is the country that issued our passports. “Home” is a term that is not always clear to us. 

In my quiet time this morning, these verses stuck out to me. 

Genesis 47:9.  And Jacob said to Pharaoh, “The days of the years of my sojourning are 130 years. Few and evil have been the days of the years of my life, and they have not attained to the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of their sojourning.”

Sojourning, going to another country, wandering as a stranger. Sojourner, a person who resides temporarily in a place. 

Then Facebook reminded me of this quote that I shared a few years ago. 

“A person who feels at home “fits” with his environment....But we don’t fit here. It’s not our environment. There is no harmony, no rightness with our surroundings. Feeling like an exile is simply feeling a fact.”

I did not record the source of the quote, so I cannot give full credit. 

Despite where we reside, none of the options on earth really seem to feel like home. 

Upon returning from vacation, we had to unpack and do laundry. Then we repacked our go bags. What are go bags? They are bags we can grab in the event that the unexpected happens.  From broken feet to cancer diagnosis, we have had to use our bags and been grateful they were already packed. What kind of go bags? We have one bag each that is a backpack. In the backpack, we carry enough clothes and hygienic items for one night. In our carry-ons, we keep enough clothes and hygienic products to last a week. 

Then at Bible study this week, the ladies asked, “what is in our spiritual go bag?”  We need to have what is necessary to live. Our salvation! What about the Fruit of the Spirit? What about scriptures that have been memorized? What basics do we need to survive a day, a week, or longer? Am I packed and ready to live? 

So we live life in a balance. We live in a place where we are strangers, but we make our earthly home here as much as possible. We live like we are staying, but we keep our bags packed in case we have to leave. One day, we will leave this place, whether for our passport county or for our eternal home. 

Staying or going, we are living like we are leaving. 

Be Audacious!

As I sit on the airplane heading back to the DRC after vacation, my thoughts turn to our real lives. We have called Kinshasa home for six months now. We have been in French language study for about nine months of the last year. We have survived one trimester of our son at boarding school, which ended well despite the rough start. We left Kinshasa with him and are returning without him. Girls have thrived in their school and are looking forward to returning to their friends, even if it is school. 

Though we are still very much in language study, we are also beginning to take on new responsibilities. Part of my language learning time will involve coaching our new teammates as they begin language acquisition. Part of Rich’s language time will be in preparation for training opportunities. As we return it all seems overwhelming. An overwhelming schedule. An overwhelming task for which I feel so inadequate. However it is a task that does not deserve to be done from a feeling of inadequacy. He has called me to this task, and He equips us for that which He calls us to do. 

The church sermon on Sunday was from Galatians 5. The pastor talked about our need to walk by the Spirit, not in the flesh. If I give myself a list of to dos to make my life seem more spiritual, I.e. depending on having Christian music on all the time to keep me calm, I am still trying to live this life in the flesh. As I have tried to do this in the recent past, I know it only puts a temporary fix. Then when the bandaid comes off, that old flesh is exposed also. We must live the life dependent on the Spirit. 

Then yesterday and today I was able to read a book that my mom sent me for Christmas. It is Audacious by Beth Moore. Yes, I read it in one day. I could not stop reading. Why? Because it hit me right at this spot. God has an audacious love for me, for each of us, that lead Him to plan to send His Son before anyone ever knew my name, or yours. When God sacrificed a lamb to clothe Adam and Eve from their sin, God was already planning that Jesus would defeat the enemy by being the final sacrifice. 

The Bible has lots of commands and instructions for how to live. But what is the greatest one? To love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength. The second is to love my neighbor as myself. When we love God audaciously, we will love others. When we serve out of duty, we will burn out. When we serve God out of that audacious love, He will do more than we can imagine. 

So will I return to Kinshasa from meetings that talk about faithfulness, a sermon about living in the Spirit, and reading a book about loving Jesus audaciously, and live the same run down life? Or will I live it in abandon to Him and be willing to love Him audaciously? Will I let myself be lead by the Spirit rather than my to do list? Do those things need to get done? Yes, but who will get the glory for how I serve? 

My word for 2018: Audacious! 

Be Audacious! 

Love audaciously! 

Live audaciously! 

As a side note, in thinking about this word “audacious,” I could not help but think of the movie, “Hope Floats.” Is there a time in your life when you were Audacious? Has life worn you down and made you doubt the audacious love that God has for you? Have you gotten comfortable in your abilities and stopped needing Him? “Get out there and get the stink off you!” Let the Lord blow a fresh breath of audacious love over you! Be Audacious! 

Pulled Out of the Pit

Sorry for not writing for a while. I fell into a “pit” from which I had to be lifted. I know I could have written and many of you would have been praying for me, but I did not even know how to express where I was spiritually. Maybe now I can put into words the spiritual journey on which I have been. 

It was such an encouragement in October to see how God was working and get a glimpse of why He brought us to Congo. That encouragement would be a rope to which I clung in the pit. Now, on this side of things, I can say that just as important as that encouragement was in the pit, so important also is the pit to my moving forward. 

As I fell into the pit, I was frustrated and depressed over areas of my life in which I still struggle. After so many years as a Christian, I would think I would be better than I am. People would talk about conversion being radical because we are new creations. So why do I still struggle in these same areas? 

A few years ago, as I expressed similar frustration in a team meeting, a wise team mate said, “well, if it were not that, it would be something else.” My reaction at the time was less than appreciative of this “little ray of sunshine.”

Even Paul struggled, saying, “the things I want to do, I don’t do, and the things I don’t want to do, I do.” Scripture also says that “He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it on the day when Christ returns.” What would be the point of continuing to work on us if we were already as we should be? I am a work in progress.  I am not what I once was but I am not yet what I ought to be. As Mandisa says, “I am just unfinished.” 

So the other day as I listened to the sermon of someone whose name you all know, share about a time recently of feeling completely inadequate for the job ahead of him, it became clear to me too why I had to fall into the pit.  

So why did I need to fall into that pit? After seeing how God had worked to bring us to this place, it would be easy to rely on my own strength, thinking that I was in any way capable of carrying out His work. So I needed the pit, to see that truly it is His working all the way around. If I am equipped, it is because He orchestrated it. If there is any ability in me, it is because He put it there. It is His work and for His glory. Any time I am tempted to think I am able to do what He has laid before me, quickly I will find myself accepting glory for what is His. 

Not sure where you are right now. Not sure if you are in a pit yourself. If so, cling tightly to the Truth of His Word and hold onto it. He will answer when you call upon Him. Listen for His still, small voice. 

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.