Today...I'm angry.

She walked through my front door, my sweet muslim friend, with her head hanging...unable to look at me, barely able to utter her words.  In all of our time together she had never asked me for anything.  Today she did.  She needed help. She needed money.  She held her head in shame and uttered her request with tears in her eyes and desperation in her voice.

  I was angry.  No, not at my hurting friend.  I was angry at the shame that she felt.  I was angry at everything I have ever taken for granted .  Angry because I have no idea what it is like to feel that shame and humiliation. I can never truly understand the desperation, the hopelessness, the fear, and the shame.

  This morning I'm angry at the poverty that my precious friends endure here in Tanzania.  But my mind shifts to America and again...I'm angry.  I'm angry at the poverty.  The poverty of spirit...maybe the worst kind because so many of us don't even know how deeply impoverished we are.  We can't even ask for help because we have no idea the slum in which we live.

   Poverty...manifested in such different ways in the two very different places that I call home.  For some it's waking up everyday to the cries of their children and wondering how they will fill their bellies.  For others it's that emptiness and hunger that can't be satisfied.  We get more, we buy more, we make ourselves busy, we consume, we even give out of our abundance, but it's not enough.  We wake up every day...hungry.

  We are all hungry.  We are all broken.  We are all in need.  No matter how our physical needs manifest themselves we all have one thing in common...we need to be rescued.

  From the beginning of time man has needed to be rescued and from the beginning of time God has had a Rescuer planned.  When the first sin entered this world we became broken and impoverished people in need of rescue.  In the west, we smother, quench and exchange the glory of God for things; but our gracious God will not allow human beings to completely suppress our sense of Him and our need for rescue.  Deep down we know our emptiness and there are times we are keenly aware of our hunger pangs, though we quickly find a painfully temporary and artificial remedy.

Only Jesus can deliver us from ourselves...our sin...our restlessness.  I know this because I remember what it felt like to hunger for purpose and identity.  I know the selfish ambition and vain pursuits all too well.  But Christ radically transformed my life and through my relationship with Him I found what I had so desperately been searching for.  In the words of St. Augustine, “You have created us for Yourself, O God, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in You.”   

I gave my dear friend the help she was asking for today.  I gave it to her knowing that there was a greater need behind those hurting eyes.  I held her hand and told her that I loved her and prayed that the Lord would open her eyes to her need for Him. I pray for her as I pray for the millions of people in this part of the world who have never heard the name of Jesus. I pray for her as I pray for those that I love back home who have heard His name but continue to seek the things that will never satisfy.  I pray for myself and those who have already been rescued by His grace that we would stop seeking the things of this world and our own selves.  I pray that our short lives here on this earth would be spent relentlessly sharing our hope, JESUS, with others. 

Under A Mango Tree...

In a tiny village right in the center of Tanzania is a bright and sensitive twelve-year-old girl named Josephine.  Alone. Standing over the graves of her mother and father realizing that for the first time in her life she really is truly…alone.  No money, no home, no more dreams and aspirations, no one to cheer on her hard work at school, no one to dry her tears and comfort her grief. Alone.  “What is going to happen to me now?”  Knowing that without education she will live and die poor in that same village she makes a desperate attempt to find a way out. Josephine takes a bus to a nearby town.  Terrified of the path ahead, she knows what she has to do; she needs to find a job so she can pay for school. By God’s Sovereign hand she didn’t find that job; instead she finds a tall, thin, white man with a kind smile.  Josephine is terrified but with her head down she begins to tell him her story.  Touched by her words, the single missionary decides to “adopt” Josephine.  He pays her debts, the rest of her way through secondary school, even college. 

Today I sit across the table from Josephine.  She isn’t that terrified little girl anymore.  She is a beautiful and spunky 65-year-old woman, with that same sensitive heart and a desire to have her story heard. 

Mama Jospehine shared her story with such passion and detail that I felt as though I were standing right by her side as each memory was recalled.  Tears filled my eyes as she told us of her husband abandoning their marriage because their son, Eric, was born mentally disabled. I was lost in her words as she spoke of the incredible love and devotion she has for Eric, her only family.  I was angered as I listened to how hard she had to fight to sustain the life of her child. I sat silent as she described being once again, alone, when Eric died at age 33. 

Mama Josephine spent the 33 years of Eric’s life caring for him and all the time growing her passion and relentless pursuit to (in her words) "fight for the rights of the disabled".

“When a child is disabled here in Tanzania they are either abandoned or if their family keeps them they all become outcasts.  They are often refused medical care because (again, in her words) "they don't have the right to live...they are a waste of time".

Mama Josephine has worked faithfully for over 30 years training families to care for disabled children.  After college she got a government job as a social worker and brought attention to the needs of the disabled.  Not only did she do this for her job, this became her mission in life.  She sold her home in the city and moved into a village where she heard of 15 mentally disabled children. “The insects and mice were my friends. They overran my decrepit mud hut.”

She began meeting together with these children and their mothers…under a mango tree.  She sang and read to the children, loved on and trained their mothers, started marriage counseling, worked in lepers camps, began caring for the elderly and single mothers, continuing her fight for the rights of the disabled, and pointing a village to her Savior who gave her the ability to love and sacrifice in such a way.  She recalled, “The entire community wondered why this woman wanted to live in the slums with us.”

She paused her story with a smile and said, “I wake up every morning thanking God for being able to live so long.”  She sipped her soda, took a deep breath and looked right into our eyes…"I will not stop until I die."

I believe her words.  I believe them because waiting at home for her are three precious little rescued lives; Neema, Rose, and Joel.  We arrived at her small home, bought by the late-single missionary who helped her all those years before.  Pictures of children cover her walls.  Countless disabled children and their families; she points to them and says…”my family”. 

::The rest of this entry is part of an email I wrote to my family after leaving Mama Josephine’s home:

…those 3 little ones in her home are about the most precious and happiest children that I have ever seen. Two of them were found on the street. Neema, the oldest, was caring for the younger one, Rose. She still can't stop mothering her because she kept her alive on the streets for so many years. She won't eat unless Rose eats, she won't do anything unless she has Rose by the hand. Neither can talk...I'm sure their years on the streets were more traumatic than we can imagine. They are around 11 and 6 years old now….


…Days like today make me think that missing you guys (AS TERRIBLE AS IT IS) is worth it all…Our family has made the small sacrifice of not spending our days together.  It hurts, but it hurts less when I stand in the home of people like Mama Josephine.  Being here with her today I can’t help but think that maybe I have no idea what sacrifice really means…

MY DEAR LORD,

I depend wholly upon Thee, wean me from all other dependences. Thou art my all, thou dost overrule all
and delight in me.
Thou art the foundation of goodness,
how can I distrust Thee?
how be anxious about what happens to me?

In the light of Thy preciousness 
the world and all its enjoyments are
 infinitely poor:
I value the favour of men no more than pebbles.
Amid the blessings I receive from Thee 
may I never lose the heart of a stranger.

May I love Thee, my Benefactor, in all my benefits,
not forgetting that my greatest danger 
arises from my advantages.

Produce in me self-despair that will 
make Jesus precious to me,
delightful in all His offices,
pleasurable in all His ways,
and may I love His commands
as well as His promises.

Help me to discern between true and false love,
the one consisting of supreme love to Thee,
the other not,
the former uniting Thy glory and man’s happiness 
that they may become one common interest,
the latter disjointing and separating them both,
seeking the latter with neglect of the former.

Teach me that genuine love is different in kind
 from that wrought by rational arguments
or the motive of self-interest,
that such love is a pleasing passion affording 
joy to the mind where it is.

Grant me grace to distinguish 
between the genuine and the false,
and to rest in Thee who art all love.

~Puritan Prayer, The Valley of Vision~

Mama Josephine and I at her home

Shantelle and Neema

Rose and her incredible, heart-melting smile 

Prayer for Kasia

As usual, I'm sitting here on a Saturday morning with my computer and Bible open and coffee in hand; and as usual I just finished another conversation with my teammate Shan that ended in..."all we can do is pray."  The longer we are here in Africa the more we realize how helpless we truly are.  We cling to the PROMISES we have been given through Christ.  We cling to the HOPE that HE is alive and active in our lives.  We cling to POWER of our Father when we know how small we are.  We cling to our ROCK when everything around us is shaky and terrifying.  We cling to the BODY OF CHRIST, who we know lifts us up in prayer.  This morning we claim all these promises and more. 

Meet precious baby Kasia.  She is almost 9 months old. She was born with a small tumor in between her eyes.  The tumor is growing rapidly and will eventually grow into her nasal cavity, her brain and her optic nerves if not removed.  Kasia's mother and father are very hard workers and have paid for everything by themselves up to this point, even her initial scan, which was very costly.  They own a small piece of property, where they grow corn.  They have sacrificed and saved to save the life of their precious baby girl, Kasia.

 

A few weeks ago we were able to watch God provide in an incredible way through our dear friends back in the states.  Together, a group of them from our church, raised the rest of the money needed for Kasia to have the surgery that will save her life.  We truly can’t express our gratitude and excitement for what they have done for Kasia! This is something that is impacting an entire village; they are seeing first-hand the love of Christ extended to a child that our friends back home have never even met.  We are blessed to have watched God use them in this way.
 


Kasia went to Dar es Salaam with her mother last week to get her pre-surgery consultation.  This is a government hospital, which would quite-honestly horrify any American parent.  We made the decision not to go along with Kasia and her mother due to the problems it can cause when they see a white face in the hospital.  If they knew that Kasia was getting aide from Americans they would bride and demand more money of the family.
 


Unfortunately, Shan received a very disappointing phonecall this morning after Kasia's 5-day stay in the hospital.  Kasia’s tumor is growing rapidly and they are now saying they don’t know what to do.  They turned her mother away only to tell her to return in 3 months.  This hospital does not have the ability or the experience to deal with Kasia’s condition.  She does not have 3 months to wait.
 


We are asking you to join us in prayer that God would send a surgeon who would have the skill to remove Kasia’s tumor.  We are taking Kasia to another surgeon this week.  Please pray that he would be able to remove the tumor.  
We ask that you pray without ceasing for a miracle to happen for Kasia.  Our Lord is able to do abundantly more than all we ask or think.  We believe that HE will get the glory for the great things HE will do.

Ephesians 3:14-21

14 For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, 15 from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, 16 that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, 18 may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, 19 and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

20 Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

To Alisa...

Dear Alisa,

This may not mean much to you now, but I pray that God uses this the day you are here in Africa and realize you have nothing left.  Hahaha, but seriously.

So here I am…six months living here in Tanzania and wondering why in the world God would want me?  Ashamed when I see my sin and my selfishness rear its ugly head.  But why am I so shocked?  Because I actually thought I had things together…sick!!!  I remember sitting in our Biblical Counseling courses together and feeling convicted about 1 or maybe 2 idols that I could identify in my life at the time.  I HAD NO IDEA!  I so easily hid behind mounds and mounds of idolatry and I couldn’t even see it.  I had no idea how deeply sick I was with them.

The problem is…I came to Africa. My idols were there the whole time…it was just so easy to hide them, replace them, excuse and ignore them back home.

This has all come crashing into a reality, which is embarrassing to admit.  As I have grasped at the idols I had back home…I have slowly and painfully watched them slip out of my reach.  I can’t escape to them anymore. For months, I have blindly and relentlessly pursued them and even more painfully watched them escape from my grasp; my sisters, my family, my lattes, my clothes, my “sense of self”, my friends, the business of life that kept me feeling important and needed, encouragement from others, friends that spoke the same language, an easy meal to feed my family, a day where I wasn’t covered in dirt, a normal day, a normal conversation, my home, (the list could keep going…like for a long, long time…but I will spare you.)

But there was an idol that I hadn’t lost yet…Aaron.  This week, by the grace of God…he broke my heart and revealed the sin I have been living in as I shouted,  “I just want to go home…I hate it here…I hate you.”  Terrible words.  Revealing words.  All completely untrue but words that came straight from a heart that pursued Aaron to fulfill all those idols and sinful ambitions I had back home.  Aaron could no longer live up to what I thought I needed from him.  I’m so ashamed of what I said and the heart that those words overflowed from.

God has broken my heart and graciously drawn me back to Himself.  He removed the scales that have blinded me for months, for years.  I don’t need Aaron to make me happy.  I don’t need my family, my worldly pleasures, popularity, friendships, ease, a lunch with girlfriends, a date-night once a week, a sense of fitting into a culture so different from my own.  I NEED JESUS. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Before we left as missionaries we were trained to identify culture shock when it came.  I’m not willing to call it that.  It’s this change in culture that has brought our family to our knees in realization of how dependent we are upon our Heavenly Father.  We need Him here.  We needed Him before, but could fill our days with countless pleasure, no matter how unfulfilling they were…we didn’t realize and maybe we didn’t care.  We were far too easily pleased with our idols to realize that communion and reliance upon our Lord is the SWEETEST and greatest place to rest.  In the words we know of C.S. Lewis, We were playing in those mud puddles in the slum because we didn’t understand was meant by God offering us holiday at the sea.  I believe that God loves us so much that He isn’t going to let us settle for anything less than Himself.  It’s not the culture here that is shocking me so much; it’s myself and my own sin that has done most of the shocking.  Even more shocking is a God who lovingly, time and time again, pulls this wandering heart back to Himself. 

So, my dearest friend, who will begin this missionary journey in a few short months:  Let go of your ideas of what a perfect American life looks like and run to Jesus.  Let go of everything you feel that you need…run to Him.  Take a hard and painful look at where your time, your money, your thoughts, your ambitions and your heart so quickly run.  Cast it all before the feet of our gracious Lord and cling to Him alone.  Nothing else will satisfy.  Nothing else will keep you here on the mission field when those things fade away.  Nothing but Jesus is enough to fill these relentless hearts of ours and fill our souls with true and everlasting joy!

I pray that one day our God can get the glory by this being said about our lives:

…having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland.  If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city. Hebrews 11:13-16

I love you.  I can’t wait to greet you on this side of the earth.  See you soon.

Steph

Are we “blessed” or just blinded?

The beautiful woman in front of me glows with the love of Christ.  She is the wife of our dear Tanzanian pastor.  She is raising four lovely children and faithfully serving alongside of her husband in our small church here in Morogoro.   With her feet up on my lap I carefully paint each toenail and listen as she hums a favorite tune.  This woman displays true grace and beauty.  However, her rough feet, missing toenails, blisters and sores remind me of a life that is far from similar to my own. 

We had just spent half of the afternoon in her home and then the other half at mine.  My mind raced back and forth between the bleak contrasts. 

Her home: well-swept dirt floors, a sheet for a front door, a kitchen outside which consists of coal and a pot, stirring a pot of ugali while explaining their inability to afford rice.  I listened as Pastor and his wife talked about the terrible government school in which their children attend.  They fear for their children’s future, but there are no other options they can afford.  

My home: newly mopped tile floors, windows protected by two sets of iron bars, around the clock guards and a beautiful gate; freshly baked banana bread as we sit on our outdoor patio and the uniforms of our girl’s private school freshly hanging out to dry.  Our lives really couldn’t be more different. 

Okay, now stop for a moment. Catch what you are thinking.  If you are anything like most Americans, anything like how I used to think…your thoughts may have been somewhere like this.  “Wow, it just makes me realize just how blessed we really are.”  It sounds simple and true.  But is it?  For a while now that statement has haunted me.  It bothers me because that simple statement implies a very serious misconception of who the blessed in this world really are.  It’s a very dangerous formula.

I have things SO I’m blessed.  

They don’t have my things SO they are not as blessed.

I think as believers our worldview has been seriously messed up because of this lie. I believe it’s much more simple.

Jesus + Nothing = Everything  (btw, this is a title of an amazing book that you should read!)

What if tomorrow your story looked more like that of Job of the Bible (who lost everything he owned, his family, his health, his friends, his comfort).  If all you had left in this world was…well, Jesus.  Is that enough?

I think if we looked into God’s Word we would see a different view of who the blessed really are.  Maybe we would shift our thoughts.

“Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!” (Psalms 34:8)

“Listen, my beloved brothers, has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom, which he has promised to those who love him?” (James 2:5)

Blessed is the man who makes the Lord his trust, who does not turn to the proud, to those who go astray after a lie! (Psalms 40:4)

“Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.” (Matthew 19:24)

So, really…how are we gauging our standard of God’s blessings?   We are not blessed because we are rich.  In fact, we are all suffering from poverty, spiritual poverty.  Each and every one of us shares in suffering, this spiritual poverty, because of SIN.  It just manifests itself in very different ways.  In Africa we see it manifested through disease, government corruption, parentless children, etc.  In America we can see our “poverty” through consumerism, idolatry, self-obsession, a lust for the world.  Without Christ both poverties are equally hopeless.

 I never truly understood the words in Matthew 19:24 until I moved to Africa.  As the scales are (very slowly) falling off I realize that yes…the rich of the world (myself) non-Christian and Christian alike are blinded by what we see as our “blessings”.  In the often quoted words of C.S. Lewis:

We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered to us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased."

Maybe we aren’t so “blessed”.  Maybe our consumer driven hearts have led us so far astray from what life is really about that we are blinded.  We are blinded from living the life that our Savior redeemed us to live.  Maybe our “mud pies” are not really so satisfying after all?

There are over 3 million people in Tanzania alone who have never heard the gospel!  THREE million souls who have NEVER heard the name of Christ.  I don’t think our dear pastor and his wife are splashing around making mud pies over here.  I think God has BLESSED her family with faith, and joy, and HIS love as they live by faith and share HIS hope here in Tanzania.  They are blessed. 

July 1st, 2012 Journal

After almost four months of living here in Africa I can definitely look back and see some extremes in emotions.  Some times I still can’t believe I live here and other times I feel like this is where we have always been.  Many times I am welcomed warmly and lovingly by the Tanzanians. Other times I fight back tears as I am stared at, mocked, harassed, confused, frustrated with language, etc.  Sometimes I have compassion for the 7-year-old child begging to hold my bag at the market for 200 shillings.  Other times I am so angry at a system that allows this to happen and at whoever is making this child work instead of allowing them to go to school.  Sometimes I walk fruit and vegetables out to the old women begging for food at our gate.  Other times I watch in irritation as they rub their stomachs and hold out their hands to me. Sometimes I love this life…sometimes I just want to go home. 

Today…I want home.  As we are visiting a family in Kitumbi, I watched out of the corner of my eye as a mother and her adult daughter interacted in the kitchen.  They laughed and washed dishes, they sang together.  (Yes…I was the creepy girl watching them from the living room.)  Then I saw something that struck me so deep that all I could do was leave the house before I burst into tears.  I watched this mother and daughter look at each other and without saying a word…they communicated.  In a moment…all the things that I try to guard my heart against dwelling upon came flooding back.  I miss my mom.  I miss those glances, where not a word needs to be spoken…just a look into the eyes of the woman who raised me.  I miss my sisters.  I miss the moments of sweet laughter and the moments of quiet, where again…nothing needs to be said or discussed…you are so familiar with one another that you just know.  I want that back.  I miss my family more than I can ever truly allow myself to admit.  But today, I remember.  I remember the looks, the laughs, the hugs and warmth, the smell, the voices, the sweet familiarity of my family and I miss it.

~God, you alone are our comfort and strength during moments of fear and pain.  I ask that you grant me peace today.  Strengthen me when I feel lost and weary.  Lord, you know my heart.  It is far from here today.  Today, I am not moved for the lost.  Today I am not weary and crying out for the people around me who need to know you.  I am crying only for myself.  Forgive me. Help me to remember why we are here.  Help me to live each moment with eternity in view. 

Even now, I type this hearing the Muslim call to worship and I’m not praying for them; I’m not even moved for them right now.  I’m discouraged.  I need you, Lord to strengthen my soul.  I need to be reminded of the gospel…what you have already done for me.  I have everything I need in this life because of you.  Encourage me through your spirit and your word today.  Please help me not to make my feelings a cause for obedience.  Renew a right spirit within me.

Psalm 84

How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts! My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God. Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at you altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.  Blessed are those who dwell in your house, ever singing your praise! Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion.  As they go through the Valley of Baca they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools.  They go from strength to strength; each on appears before God in Zion. O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer; give ear, O God of Jacob! Behold our shield, O God; look on the face of your anointed!  For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere.  I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness. For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor.  No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly.  O Lord of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in you!

Her eyes were filled with tears as she buried her little head into my shoulder after falling off the swing,  “Mommy, it hurts.”  I held her, checked her wound, patted her on the back, and kissed her cheek…a typical interaction between a child and her mother.  My eyes drifted beyond my daughter as I watched 28 sets of wide eyes staring at this strange display of affection. 

Earlier that same day at the orphanage, little 6-year-old Goti fell on the concrete.  He scraped his knee and the palm of his hand.  I watched as he ran off to the side and cried alone.  He looked for no one; he ran to no one; his short life had already conditioned him to soothe his own pain and fear.  I walked over to Goti and as he climbed on my lap I explained, in very broken Swahili, that I was sorry for his pain.  I kissed his little knee and his hand.  He rested on my shoulder.  Even after his “full recovery”, Goti, made several trips back to me to ask for another kiss on his hand.  

What a vast difference between the lives of Goti and Claire.  It doesn’t seem fair. 

But I know that you cannot be a mother and not have, built into your very core, a desire to help a child in need.

Our heart breaks for the millions of parentless children in our part of the world.  Every child should have someone to run to, someone who cares.  This is why we are here.  Not for the orphaned child alone, but for an even greater crisis.; for the person who does not know Christ. In my life…I run to HIM…in every fear, heartache, pain, trial…I have my FATHER to run to.  “Run to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I WILL give you rest.” 

It’s heartbreaking that some have never even heard the name of Christ.  It should grieve you if you know the greatest news of all time and you are unwilling to share that hope, that life changing, eternity changing hope with others.

You cannot be a Christian and not have, built into your very core, a desire to share Christ, our only hope in life and death, with those who do not know HIM.  If you know HIM, truly know the joy, the liberating grace and mercy of HIM…then you are cruel to not share that with others. 

Would we turn the other way as Goti cried alone?  Why are we, as believers, turning away from the lost and broken people that God has placed in our paths? 

Be zealous to share OUR HOPE OF CHRIST with a lost world.

James MacDonald: “If you want only enough of Christ to save yourself, then you probably don’t have enough to do even that.”

It’s hard to put into words how different our life is here.  So, I wanted to give a quick glimpse into what a typical week is like for us here in Africa (if there is such thing as a typical week here)

{SUNDAY}

Last Sunday started out fairly normal as we got ready for church with the electricity cut off halfway thru.  Any sort of self-pity flew out the window as we piled into our car and noticed the old beggar standing at our gate with a severely wounded leg and in desperate need of corrective surgery.  We see this kind of thing a LOT here, but today we put him in our car, gave him the breakfast that I grabbed for the drive, a small amount of money toward surgery and took him to our church.  He stayed the entire time and listened intently.

I actually understood more than 10 words in the sermon this week.

 

Claire and Kennedy performed in children’s choir, yet again.  I believe they each sang about 2 words and clapped on beat 3 times.

Kennedy cried because she missed her church back home in the States.

We spent the rest of the day with no electricity.

{MONDAY}

I left my 2-year-old at language school pre-school for the first time.  I cried, as she cried, when I left her in a small room filled with 30 little 4 and 5 year-old African faces, 2 Swahili-speaking teachers, and a little packed bag that she held on to for dear life.  It was hard.  No one wants to make sacrifices when it comes to their children.  Okay, as I type that I’m humbled at the sacrifice of our Heavenly Father of his only Son.  Never mind on the self-pity avenue I was about to travel down.  Moving on…

Anyway, Elliot survived, but didn’t like the ugi she was served at snack-time.  She was given a school book and homework that night.  I guess her teachers have higher aspirations for our toddler than we do. Haha ;)

Language school is held outside, under the beautiful scenery of the Uluguru Mountains.  We tried our best to concentrate in the midst of heavy rain, a visit from a tarantula, and the constant temptation to worry about how my little Elliot was doing in her new environment.

We watched last weeks episode of American Idol, which is our weekly treat.

{TUESDAY}

I realized that I’m pretty comfortable driving here on the left side of the road now(not on the drive from Morogoro to DAR…you would have to be insane to be comfortable on that drive) and with the exception of various close encounters with piki-piki’s, bicycles, and cattle.  It rained hard that day, I had to get out of the car b/c I thought I got a flat tire while driving thru a worse-than normal road.  I almost fell in the mud when my flip-flop got stuck and my body continued.  

We spent the day at a nearby orphanage again.  Claire came along and had a wonderful time.  She asked to remove her shoes, in which I answered no.  There was deep mud everywhere due to it being rainy season.  All I could think about was the disease and parasites she could get thru walking barefoot.  She looked up at me, looked over at her friend’s feet and said “If they don’t have shoes…I don’t have shoes.” I want a heart like that. 

We are going back to the orphanage this week, hopefully, with some supplements for 4-year old Upendo.  She has a severe oozing, ear infection that continues to come back.  I can’t wait for Alisa to get here…she always knows the remedy for things like that.   

 We had some friends over and had a good normal night playing games.  We even had chocolate chip cookies. They don’t sell chocolate chips here.

{WEDNESDAY}

We prayed on the way to school.  Claire’s prayer:  “Please help me not to have to go potty during class and please help me not to tell anyone our family password.” Elliot had a bad day at language school.  So did I.  I prayed a lot that day.

{THURSDAY}

I was tired from a long night full of joy and many tears as I watched my sister give birth to my precious niece, Iris Danielle (over skype).  It was hard to concentrate at language school.  I was tired and I missed home. 

God answered our prayers and Elliot didn’t cry this time as she entered her class.  It’s actually quite precious to hear dozens of little voices yell, “Elliot, Elliot (Ee-lee-ott).”  They love her there and take very seriously their responsibility to care for her, as they are 2 years her senior.

{FRIDAY}

I secretly got mad at Aaron during our Swahili training b/c he knew more answers than me and got a better score on his homework.  It was just another average rainy day, with no electricity…until Shantelle’s vehicle was stolen in a populated area of town.  God protected her and we have given many praises for this.  There is a reason for this and I am proud to watch Shantelle seek God’s glory and give Him praise thru a difficult time.  I was also proud to hear that she busted out some pretty good Swahili in her first few moments of panic.  ;)

{SATURDAY}

I woke up with pink eye.  Apparently the little girl, with swollen eyes, that hugged me and held my hand yesterday shared it with me.  No worries.  One of the only things that is easier here than in the states is getting medicine.  You simply walk into a Duka la Dawa…tell them what you want and you get it (for very cheap, I might add). 

We spent the morning at the police station.   We watched a friend’s grandchild as she attended a funeral of her close friend who died from Maleria.  We ordered “take-out” which means the following:  Aaron takes our plates from home and heads down to a tiny restaurant.  He orders, waits for an hour, and brings our “take-out” food and plates home. It’s a fun treat for Saturday nights.  Mr. Kim came over for our usual evening coffee and chats.  He misses home. We watched a movie with sub-titles, so he could follow along.  We skyped our family; which is both a wonderful and painful occasion (hard to put into words).   And now I am writing.

{TOMORROW}

…WE NEVER KNOW. 

So, tonight we pray and ask God for strength, wisdom, humility, and strength to seek HIM thru every new and God-ordained experience.  It’s not easy, it’s definitely not ordinary, it’s not the home I know and love, but I thank God for every moment HE has given me to see and learn more of HIM thru this new place that I now call…home.

"You don't want your old life back..."

Oh, facebook…how I love the connections you bring between friends…and how I love/hate the exposure you bring to my wicked heart.

Over the last couple of weeks I have noticed a slight sting in my heart as I looked through the beautifully normal albums of friends back home.  The other night, those slight stings boiled over into an idol-exposing mess.  “I feel like everything I am is gone.  Everything and everyone is moving on.  I don’t like looking at my old life without myself in it.   I feel like I left who I was behind!“ 

Hearing myself say that was pretty scary. I was slapped in the face with the reality of where my value had been placed.  I was so ashamed.  As God graciously exposed my heart that night, he also graciously gave me Shan and Aaron to help encourage me.  Shan said “Thank God that we don’t have those things to hide behind anymore, Steph.  All our eggs are in one basket, and that is in Christ ALONE.” 

I thank God that I can’t hide behind titles, friendships, status, starbucks, fashion, family, busyness, self-inflicted busyness, work, lunch-dates with friends, favorite t.v shows, etc.  I thank Him for the silence and for the loneliness that beckon me to answer…Is HE really enough in my life?  All those things listed are a mirage of happiness and hope.  HE, JESUS, is the rock that we are all longing for.   

Is Christ really enough in my life?  Oh, how I can talk the talk but it gets serious really quick when I actually attempt to live that way.  I pray that I can start believing and living in the following manner…“Gospel-saturation people are those who give everything they have because they realize that, in Christ, they already have everything they need.”

As Tullian Tchividjian so eloquently put it in the incredible book Jesus + Nothing= Everything: “You don’t want your old life back, it’s your old idols you want back, and I (Jesus) love you too much to give them back to you.”   Thank you, Lord for the absence of my “old life” that so easily hid my idolatry!  I am broken and humbled to realize how I TRIED to find my identity and joy in things and people other than YOU.  I, Stephanie Boon, am a child of God.  Rescued, loved, and hidden in Christ.  That is everything.

Colossians 3:1-4 If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. 2 Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. 3 For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. 4 When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.

This is my first blog entry here in Africa. I have put this off for some time now. Part of me was trying to avoid the inevitable first entry after leaving my family. I had no desire to relive those dreadful moments, but every time I started an entry it felt like I was picking up in a wrong place. My desire for this blog is to point others to Christ and the incredible blessings and grace that come thru following Him…though sometimes the grace may be painful. Such painful and sustaining grace came as I left my family just a few weeks ago. I pray though, that through honesty and openness into my life that God will do a work in the lives of others.
He will receive the glory in all of my weakness and when my faith is shaken…HE remains faithful.

{My journal on March 15th}
Yesterday was the day that I did the single hardest thing that I have ever done. I walked away from my family. I truly felt like my heart was going to stop beating. The pain of leaving my sisters, my brothers, my nieces, my nephews, Mamaw, Papaw…it was almost more than I could bare…

I held tightly onto my precious Leighton and Winston, knowing that I will never get to feel them as precious babies again. I kissed and squeezed their little faces tighter than either appreciated.

I watched as little Norah tried her very best to understand what was happening. I listened, as she wanted to make sure that I knew where to find her when we came back. “Will I still be at my house? If I’m in a new house, will you know where to find me?” Even my best robot impression didn’t put a smile on her confused and saddened little face.

I watched little Caloway try his best to be tough. He hugged Kennedy as she cried and closed his little eyes. He promised to call me right away when he loses that loose front tooth.

I hugged the pregnant belly of my baby sister, knowing that I would never get to hold little Iris as a baby.

I watched my Mamaw, one of the toughest humans around, try to stay busy and distracted to shield her pain.

I felt the strong arms of the precious and loving grandpa shake as he held the granddaughter that he loves to protect.

My brothers…trying their very best to stay strong for their families, broke my heart. I love those 3 men as if they had been my brothers all my life. They love, protect, adore, lead and are married to the three women that hold some of the highest places in my heart…my sisters. The pain of leaving those three was deeper than I ever imagined. Walking out of their daily lives, out of reach of their hugs, away from their laughs, the constant joy that fills every moment we are together, it felt like I was leaving part of my soul behind.
Today, as I sit in a Chicago hotel, because of our cancelled flight, I mourn the loss of the life I leave behind. Nothing, short of faith and trust in our Holy God could keep me from running back…nothing.

“Oh Lord,
I hang on Thee; I see, believe, live,
When Thy will, not mine, is done;
I can plead nothing in myself
In regard of any worthiness and grace,
In regard of Thy providence and promises,
But only Thy good pleasure.
If Thy mercy make me poor and vile, blessed be Thou!
Prayers arising from my needs are preparations for future mercies;
Help me to honor Thee by believing before I feel, for great is the sin if I make feeling a cause of faith.”

I pray, dear Lord, that you use my weakness for Your glory. I pray you take my life and use it as instruments of Your grace, so that some may know. Grant me more faith, more wisdom, more patience, more love, more humility, more sustaining grace to point others to You.
In Your incredible mercy, You: called me to Yourself in salvation, You called me to Your service (though you need me not) and I am sure of this, that You who began a good work in me will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” Phillipians 1:6

I look back on my journal with love and adoration for a Heavenly Father who knows exactly how it feels to leave family. He, in His incredible grace and mercy, sent His only Son out of a perfect world, as a living sacrifice…to pay for what I CAN NOT!

The words in a letter written to me from my much older and wiser ;) big sister pretty much sums it up:

Dear Steph,
Tonight was another wonderful family night. When I think about all the wonderful memories we have had and will still have as a family I know that all this is possible because of Jesus.

Without Him family wouldn’t be so precious. But God changed everything for us when He chose before the foundations of the world to save us. Our great Rescuer Jesus Christ has rescued us from the power of sin and has bestowed on us blessings upon blessings.
I look at my family and see that all the joy I feel is from him and him alone and praise be to him for saving and sealing our eternal destiny to be forever with our Lord and Savior.

So, how could my soul not rejoice that God has given you the passion and desire to share the hope he has given us to those who are without? How selfish would I be that I wouldn’t want everyone in the world to know the glorious gospel of Jesus Christ that has changed our lives and given us purpose. Even if that means a temporary, I am happy that the happiness we have shared as a family in Jesus will be shared with the people of Africa.

I think about the happiness and joy I feel in a world still stricken with sin. What then will heaven be like when finally our Lord comes back and makes everything right again, takes away the pain, the sickness, the separation, death and we get to have Jesus for eternity. The greatest memories and joys I have felt on this earth will not even come close to comparing.

God help us to not just be satisfied with simply existing but that we would truly live. And truly living is a life that belongs to the one who has saved our souls. We are his people set aside for his purpose. May God give us the courage and strength to be on the mission of sharing his saving gospel to those around us.
I Thessalonians 5:23-24 “Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it.

That awful moment when every emotion I have tried so adamantly to hide comes crashing down. It all hits me. We are leaving…leaving everything we know: our home, everything familiar, everything dear, everything easy and American…my family.

Here’s a true confession-last night, for first time, I looked at my husband, Aaron and said, “I don’t think I can do this.”

I had just spent the entire evening watching my girls and each of their cousins fill the house with so much love and laughter and joy. “How can we leave this? How can we leave them? What are we doing? Are we making the worst mistake of our lives?”

To most people, the answer to those questions is…a big YES. It’s the absolute worst mistake of our lives to leave this blessed family and life behind to enter into an unfamiliar, unstable, foreign, Muslim nation with which we can count the number of people we know on one hand. From an earthly (logical) perspective it is pure insanity to do this.

Or…it’s the greatest gift of our lives that God would allow us, often faithless and fearful; to be used in His magnificent plan to share the greatest news of His love and grace to those who have never heard!

I have a feeling that a lot of us have that similar tension between our flesh (what makes sense) and faith. Following our Lord when it doesn’t make sense, when it hurts, when the world laughs or disapproves, when you’re scared…when all you have IS HIM to rely upon.
Last night, as my husband held me and we prayed together for strength, for comfort and wisdom, we cried out for God to grant us more of that faith.

::Faith like Moses when God asked him to lead an impossible journey across the Red Sea.
::Faith like Hannah as she left her only son behind in obedience to the Lord and prayed “There is none holy like the LORD: for there is none besides you; there is no rock like our God.”
::Faith like Joshua leading a “seemingly” impossible battle to Jericho
::Faith like Joseph, Abraham, Daniel, Rahab, Ruth, and David…
::Faith that looks past what lies behind, what fears lie ahead and only to GOD.

So, now in my weakness and fear…all I can do is pray for a heart that remains faithful through what seems impossible. I want faith like what is described below in Hebrews 11…

13 These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. 14 For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. 15 If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. 16 But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.

For those reading and now struggling with your own fear…yes, we ARE still going. ☺ Through God’s immeasurable grace He is granting us the faith needed to press on into this journey He has called us. Though my flesh is fearful and lacking in faith, our God…the creator of the universe..IS MY HELP!
"...Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith"