Time to Come Home

            I am trying to picture what it will be like to be back in the US—to drive on the right side of consistently smooth roads, to have access to a grocery store 5 minutes from my home, to have cold milk from the store, and to have all the comforts of family and friends close by. There are definitely things about Kenya that I will miss—the slower, more deliberate pace of life, the beautiful Rift Valley, the dorm boys and the Hildebrands, early morning walks with Jen, and the feeling of adventure and being involved in the work of the Lord. But, I do feel ready to go home. I’m ready to be with my family again and catch up on my friends’ lives.

            I want to be able to share and explain my experiences with everyone I love. I know that will be impossible. There are just some things that cannot be explained or understood unless the experience is mutual. I hope, though, that rather than have to explain and articulate everything that happened to me, everything that God revealed to me, that I would simply show a change in my actions and words and sentiments.

            I hope to show that I’m a more compassionate, understanding, and open person. You see, with traveling across the world and spending time in Africa, my mind has been opened to a variety of new thoughts and ideas. Things are not always how you think they ought to be, and that is not always wrong. So, when I come home, I hope to bring a changed, more open mind. In opening my mind, I might be more ready to understand people and their various experiences. I may think more outside the box and not be so critical, judgmental, or simply narrow-minded. Of course I do not want to become liberal and universal in my thinking, especially when it relates to morals and my relationship with God. But, if a person has a strong moral core and a prayerful relationship with God, then an open, compassionate mind towards others cannot easily lead that person astray. It can only help that person to be better in tune to others around them, their needs, and how they can be served.

            I also hope to come home and show my desire and growing hunger for God and for bringing Him glory. I came to Africa wanting to experience a challenge to my faith, wanting to see God do amazing things—and believe me, it is an amazing thing just to travel on a plane around the world. It takes much faith. I came here wanting that boost of growth and the necessity of relying on God every step of the way. What I’ve seen of God’s faithfulness and His love for me makes me excited for my future, for the ways that God is going to show up more in my life. I am no longer as worried about my life, about my schooling, and my life after school. I know that with everything that comes my way, God is in control and He will provide for me. Even if things are difficult and down right unpleasant, He is still taking care of me. I am excited for this stronger faith that God has grown inside me. I hope and pray that going back to the U.S. will not stop my growth, but will increase it.

            With those thoughts, I will close my blog for now. I may share some more stories that stand out as time goes on, but I am done for now. I am leaving Kenya in a matter of hours and heading back to life in the U.S. It is going to be an adjustment, but I am looking forward to all that God has in store for my future. I am SO grateful for this amazing opportunity that God allowed me to experience. I am grateful to you all for reading my blog and praying for me. It is through your prayers that I’ve been able to be carried through some of the challenging times of my stay in Africa.

            So, with a full heart of gratefulness, sadness, and anticipation, I leave you all on the blog only to reconnect in person in the near future! Thank you and God bless!

Reflections

            I have one more full day here in Africa. As my time here is drawing to a close, I am mentally preparing myself to return home. I am reflecting on all that I have learned and how much I’ve grown.

            I do know that, in coming here, I have gained a different view of the world and a broader view of what is good in life. Growing up in America is an interesting thing. I believe we have a wonderful country and I value the freedom we still have and the heritage that we represent. I do believe that God has had His faithful hand on us. We do have a downfall in comparing our country to other countries based off of our technological success and relative economic prosperity though. We think we are superior—and having such an expansive nation helps to perpetuate that idea. Having been in Africa for close to 3 ½ months now, I am changing my perspective a bit. I do think that the USA is extremely blessed with technology and material possessions and the utmost of convenience. But, I do not see that as a marker for superiority or entitlement. I have been exposed to quite different situations than those of Americans, and I am convinced that one cannot look down on a culture simply because they have a less wide spread of material and technological possessions. There are things at work that we cannot comprehend and there are needs that supersede the physical and material. Not discounting that we must reach out to those who are less fortunate, but there is a different forms of poverty. As it says in the book When Helping Hurts, America tends to see the lack of physical and material possessions of people, whereas the poor people themselves see the lack of respect, dignity, relationships, and emotional stability. Not everything is about “things.” It is about caring for the person holistically and treating the problem, not the symptom. I digress though because I really want to say that America is not the whole world. There are many other places and we cannot continue to think of ourselves so highly and then only see the bad in other places. “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.” Matthew 7:3-5

            I also know that I have a clearer picture of what worldwide missions is all about. I have a greater respect for missionaries who are called to leave the comforts of their homes and learn to adapt to new cultures and environments to serve and spread God’s kingdom. There is really not much I can say because it is not something that can be easily explained or understood. Missionaries’ lives are hard for us to understand in America, where we enjoy every comfort and pleasure that life can offer. There is much to learn from their willingness to give up momentary comforts in order to work for the Kingdom, for which their rewards and fruits from their labors will last forever. I think we have become complacent and have lost some missions-mindedness in America. Here is a quote from Christianity Rediscovered, by Vincent J. Donovan, that I think illustrates this idea: “Missionaries looking at the church in America would be worried by what they see. Because what they see is a bad missionary situation Not just the sharp decline in active participation in church community and the draining away of the young, but a church life that is not much more relevant to the human life lived in the neighborhoods surrounding it than the mission compound was to the tribal life of the Africans.” I think we are seriously slacking in America. Why do we have so many churches and so little outreach, so little depth to our Christians, so little compassion and understanding for the needs of others?

            Those are just a few of the ideas that have been swimming inside my head. I do not know if I’ll ever be able to completely grasp and articulate everything that has occurred and all God has taught me from this experience—there is much more that I could tell, but it might take years for me to decipher it all. It has been a life-changing experience, with ups and downs, ins and outs. I am so grateful for this opportunity that God has given me. If anything, it has made me desire Him more, made me more aware of His work in my life, His faithfulness to me, and of my unworthiness of Him. It has made me hunger for more of Him and hunger for Him to more completely lead my life. I am but a sapling when it comes to faith and experience though. There is much more ahead!

His Grace Flows Deep

One night, I did dorm coverage and it was an eventful night!

                 

First off, the dorm boys get a snack during devotions most nights, which is not required. They are not always grateful for the snacks and it is frustrating when they do not appreciate the services and privileges that are given to them. Some of them can have a very entitled mentality. So, when there was grumbling that night about the snack, I was impatient and frustrated with it. During devotions, I took the opportunity to discuss this issue of how we need to be grateful, and content, and satisfied with what we have. The boys don't work for any of their food—whether eating in the cafeteria or the dorm. It is bought and prepared for them and they sit and eat it. They're not starving or on the streets or digging through a garbage pile. Snacks are a privilege, not a necessity. They can be taken away.

Rant over, I declared a minute of silence and stillness (yeah right), partly because of their squirminess and partly because I needed to figure out what passage of scripture I should talk about.

I quickly tried to look up something in the Bible to read that sort of connected to what we had been talking about but wasn't taking it too overboard (as I tried to ignore the fact that they weren't be still or quiet).

I stumbled upon the "lay up your treasures in heaven" passage in Matthew 6. I decided we could talked about what are treasures on earth and why don't we want to store them up and what are treasures in heaven etc. I thought it could’ve been more effective, but I wasn't super prepared and their questions take up quite a bit of time anyway.

The amazing thing is that even with my inadequacy, unpreparedness, and impatience, God somehow used that night to touch two of the boys' hearts.

As we were talking about storing up treasures in heaven and on earth, I explained how the things we do on earth matter in heaven. And when we go to heaven, all our deeds on earth are going through a fire. Some things will be burned up (the treasures we stored on earth), but the things that we did for God, through God, and with God's help, will remain (the treasures we stored up in heaven). Somehow through this conversation, one of the boys (Boy #1), who is quite sensitive, started to cry a little and said he was scared. He didn’t know if he was saved or not. I asked him if he's prayed to receive Jesus. Then I tried to comfort him and remind him of God's promises. There's nothing we can do to be separated from His love. Some of the boys were being distracting, so I don't know if he heard all of what I was trying to tell him.

I moved on and answered other questions and kept talking. Another boy (Boy #2), whose salvation has been uncertain, asked, "um, Ok. So, how do you, like, know if you're saved?" Because this was a loaded question, and there were two other hands raised, I told him to hold on a moment while I answered the other two questions, which happened to be ridiculous. Fed up with the others’ distractions and really wanting to give this question the attention it deserved, I sent everyone except this boy upstairs to brush their teeth and get in bed. Boy #1 decided to stay behind too. So, I talked to Boy #2, walking him through the steps of the gospel to see if he understood and believed those things (I didn't know if he wasn't saved or if he was doubting). Then I asked both of them if they'd ever prayed to receive Jesus' salvation. They both were unsure (talking to Bill and Jen later, they said they'd never gotten a clear testimony out of Boy #2, but Boy #1’s testimony had been pretty clear, so he may have just been in a time of doubting). So I said, "If you're not sure then do you want to pray right now?" They both said yes! So, I got to pray the sinner's prayer with two precious boys that night! Then I hugged them both and Boy #2 said he was going to write this day down somewhere so he could remember.

We went upstairs and I prayed with each room of boys and then I had to go tell Bill and Jen. We ended up having a long conversation about all that happened that night during devotions—the kids' unruliness and ungratefulness and the two boys’ prayers. While we were talking about the unruliness and ungratefulness, Boy #2 walked in (this was before I'd gotten to the part about his prayer) and said his shoulder felt weird, like something was popping out even while he was lying still. He said it didn't hurt, so Jen was going send him back to bed. But before she did, she asked if there was something else on his mind that was keeping him from sleeping. Like, was he good during devotions, were other people good, was he feeling guilty? So, I asked him, "Do you wanna tell her?" And he said a little bashfully, "So, today I wasn't sure if I was saved and then I just prayed with Aunt Meredith to be saved." It was amazing that God would cause him to get up and come to us and allow him to tell Bill and Jen about his salvation before I could tell them! Jen was able to talk with him a little more about it and answered a question that he had before he went back to bed. His question was, "What if I stop believing in Jesus and stop loving him?"

 

SO, that was what Jen would call a Beautiful-Ugly. Even though I wasn't feeling inspired by God, I had begun devos with being upset with the boys, and there was a lot of distraction because some of them were bouncing off the walls, God did a wonderful thing!! He spoke into the hearts of two boys, convicting them and causing them to accept Him and rededicate their lives to Him. What an awesome, gracious God! 

 

Tricksters

      
            I have loved living with a dorm of 5^th and 6^th grade boys. They are each unique in their own ways. They are sweet and funny! It’s so fun to get to know them! It is so cute when they call me Aunt Meredith!

            I have had the privilege of doing Dorm Coverage for the Hildebrands once a week. That's when their family gets some needed time together and I run study hall, devotions, and bed time.

            So, here is a funny story from the first night that I did Dorm Coverage.

            Study hall (designated homework time) didn't go so well that night. I'd been in charge of it before, but this night was somehow different because I was “supposed” to be in charge. Two of the boys were not being obedient and were distracting the others. That did not start the night off very well, but I was optimistic.

            After study hall is devotion time. I read Eph. 2:1-10 and Ps. 103. We talked about each idea and they had lots of questions. These verses point to God’s grace and our inadequacy to earn that grace. We are all sinners, but God chose to treat us in a way that we don’t deserve—to give us a chance to live the way he created us to live. He is willing to forgive us so that we could live out our purpose in life, to honor and glorify him through doing the good works he prepared for us.

            Also, God gives us so many beautiful blessings, like nature, RVA, dorm parents, yummy food, safety, technology, and much more. He gives these things to us and we rarely acknowledge that these gifts are from Him. Instead, we are prideful and feel like we deserve these blessings. We treat God as if he does not have a part in giving them to us. And we turn from Him in sin.

            So why do we divert back to our old habits and keep sinning? Why not walk in the grace of God and be thankful for what he's given us, showing our thankfulness through loving him and following his commands?

            God treats us in a way that we do not deserve—with grace and compassion. We do not have the same, godly instinct when people treat us badly—we want to treat them badly too. There had been talk amongst the boys about how other kids in the 6^th grade were not treating them kindly and there was a lot of conflict. So, I wanted to give them an idea of what their responses should be—not to retaliate and repay evil for evil, but to be gracious and forgiving. For, God has forgiven us much and we are trying to learn how to be like His Son.

            It took us a while to get through those verses. They are thoughtful boys, for the most part, but sometimes we would get off on tangents because of random questions they would ask. We talked and discussed each little thing about the verses, because they are pretty dense with a lot of concepts/metaphors/ideas that are hard to understand. These discussions led to other, deeper questions they'd ask and then I'd have to turn the conversation back to the topic because I didn't want to let them get sidetracked too much. Plus I wasn't prepared to answer some of their questions!

            Anyway, that is just the background information. The main part of my story is when I was putting them to bed. They are in 3 different rooms. The three goofiest boys are in the middle room. They like to joke around with me and be sarcastic. So, when I got to their room to pray with them, two of them were on their beds and the third was completely covered in his blankets and not moving.

            As soon as I walked in, I said, "Where's John?" Kyle said, "He's really mad." And Stephen said, "Yeah, Kyle said something to him..." As I was trying to cover Stephen up, I said, "What did you say, Kyle?" Kyle responded sheepishly, "uh...something not nice." I was remembering the devotion we’d just had about pleasing the Lord and treating others with grace, and said, "Well, that's disappointing..." I went to John under the covers and said, "John, please come out from under the covers; I know you can hear me." And when he didn't move I thought, "Man, he can't be THAT mad."

            So I moved the covers back and IT WAS A PILE OF PILLOWS!!!!!!!! John then emerged from the closet!!!!!! Hysterical laughter erupted from the boys and from me! I could not contain myself! I was laughing so hard! I walked out of the room and then back in and then dropped on the floor laughing! I can't believe I COMPLETELY fell for their trick!!!!! SO FUNNY!!! They were so happy that they had tricked me, and I was slightly embarrassed at being tricked. But it was so funny and it made my night! 

Safari Tales

            I can say that I have been camping in Africa! All four of the Titchie (elementary) dorms went on a campout one weekend. We drove about an hour and a half away from campus, down into the Great Rift Valley. The campsite that we stayed at was a dusty place surrounded by Acacia trees. I felt very African at this time because of the surroundings. We set up camp and then had dinner, which consisted of roasted hotdogs wrapped in bread dough, carrot sticks, and chips. We also roasted marshmallows for s’mores and sang songs around the fire. When we went to bed it was a bit chilly, but we were fine with our layers and warm sleeping bags. During the night, some people heard hyenas running through the campsite, but I didn’t hear anything.

            The next day, we went on a safari walk to the nearby Crater Lake. We walked around the edge of the Crater, which used to be a volcano. About half of the crater is made up of the lake; the other half is vegetation. We went down the other side of the Crater and walked around the dry, brown land looking for animals. We were fortunate to see lots of interesting ones—zebras, giraffe, dik-dik, warthogs, impala, waterbucks, and even a fox! It was amazing! After our walk, we went back to the campsite, ate lunch, packed up and left.

            On our way back to RVA, we stopped at another lake. From the road, the lake looked as though the water coming up to the shore was all pink. It was covered with thousands of flamingos! We were blown away! It was amazing to see them all and to see them fly out in mass over the water. It was like a domino affect. One row of flamingos would start flying out and then another and another. There was also a dull roar of honking coming from the enormous group—they were so loud when they are all together that you could not even hear the boat that was on the water start up its engine.

            I was not able to get great pictures from the campout. The following pictures are actually from a different little excursion I took with some ladies to a place called Crescent Island. It’s actually a peninsula, but you take a little motorboat across part of Lake Naivasha and see hippos in the water. Then you dock at the peninsula and walk around with a guide. If you are stealthy, you can get pretty close to some of the animals! Actually, I think the animals are just used to people walking around because this particular area is one of the most densely populated areas of animals in Kenya. Therefore, it gets quite a bit of tourist attention and they have even filmed movies there.

Package Arrival!

Mom, you're the best!

Life is Beautiful-Ugly

            After the women’s retreat, I made my way to RVA (the Rift Valley Academy) and I started to get settled in. It took a while for me to get plugged in because I wasn’t assigned to a specific position. But I found ways to help out with the Titchie (elementary) classrooms and office, the administrative offices, babysitting for young moms, and any other needs that arose.

            Now, I have been living at RVA for over a month and a half. I have been able to be productive and serve—in small ways and larger ways. I have felt completely at peace about being here and I have learned much from the people around me. I have come to feel at home and comfortable here.

            God has blessed me by letting me live with the Hildebrands (my former youth pastor, his wife, their four boys) and their seven 5-6^th grade dorm boys. I have been so blessed to get to spend time with this family, learn what it’s like for them to live in Kenya and hear their heart and their love for their boys and their ministry.

            Uprooting a family and moving to a new continent is an intense and difficult endeavor—it is a huge sacrifice! There are sacrifices that each of us must endure in order to follow God’s call on our lives. After all, Jesus gave up his heavenly throne in order to humble himself, become a man, and endure everything a human endures. Plus, He bore the sins of the world and died an excruciating death. Now THAT is sacrifice. And are we not called to “take up [our] cross and follow Him”(Lk. 9:23)?

            Jesus’ sacrifice, although it was painful, brutal, and ugly, brought about the most beautiful redemption and salvation for mankind! In the same way, the sacrifices we make for God are trade-ins for more beautiful outcomes. In coming to Africa, I sacrificed time at school, time with friends and family, money, and more. Other people, like the Hildebrands, sacrificed much more than that—they committed their lives to live here and be far away from family and everything familiar and comfortable. It’s like discovering how to live again!          

            Although their sacrifice was great, this family has seen the purposes for which God called them here. God has rewarded them by allowing them to serve and work in a larger community of believers and see God's hand in many circumstances. They have relied on God through many difficult situations, and God has shown himself faithful and has shown them that His plan is greater than anything they might think is good. It's all about TUST. Can we trust that, even when we are going through hard times, God is in control and He has our best interest in mind?

            I have learned to call this concept a “Beautiful Ugly,” (a phrase coined by a lady here at RVA) and it applies to many things that we face in this life. Although a situation may seem so terrible, a sacrifice may seem too great, a task may seem too large, and life may just be plain ugly sometimes, God is working beauty into the ashes, the ugliness, and the confusion. There are great rewards for doing what God calls you to do and for relying on God through the difficult things in life.

            So, no matter what you face in your life—from the small inconveniences of daily life, to the life-altering changes that God calls you to make, to the tragedies that rock your foundation—God is working a greater plan for your life. He knows the purposes that He has and they will result in beauty and grace and growth! TRUST HIM!

 

Steven Curtis Chapman knows what it means to live this out in a very real way because of the tragic death of his daughter. Here is a song he wrote that exemplifies what I’m talking about.

"Beauty Will Rise"

We Have a BIG Family

            For the first couple of days that I was in Kenya again, I was able to go to a retreat for missionary women. It was quite a reverse culture shock for me to be surrounded by English-speaking women, eating chocolate, having a pedicure, making cards, and listening to a speaker! It was a wonderful time of fellowship and a wonderful refreshment for the ladies. They pour themselves out constantly and they rarely get a break! They work in difficult environments and they cherish the little pieces of home that come with the women’s retreat.

            It was encouraging to me to be around the incredibly real, down-to-earth women at the retreat. I had come from Tanzania where there were people from three separate continents together, working for the Lord. I felt such unity in Christ—like we were close simply because of our relationships with Jesus. This connection was not surprising though because we are all a part of the same family now. It was wonderful to come from that fellowship right into another, different community of believers. These women came from all over Kenya and maybe other parts of Africa. I was able to feel the unity of Christ in both settings—the Tanzanian Bush and the Kenyan retreat center.

            The unity of the Body of Christ doesn’t change, whether you’re in the Bush of Tanzania, the more advanced places of Kenya, or in the privileged country of the United States. We are children of God and we are connected through the blood of Christ.

            I wonder if we remember that when we interact with our brothers and sisters in Christ. I wonder if we are aware of the strong bonds that we possess. Do we take advantage of them by encouraging each other, building each other up in our faith? Or do we consider Jesus’ death to be so meaningless? Powerless? No. It unites us beyond culture, beyond location or circumstance, beyond personality or opinion. And God had called us to Unity, Peace, Encouragement, Love, Grace, Joy, and Bearing with one another. Let us not waste the precious time we have. But let us remember our kinship and our Father, who sacrificed more than we can comprehend to give us access to His Power, Love, Community, and Inheritance. We do not walk this road alone but together.

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful; and let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more, as you see the day drawing near.

Hebrews 10:23-25

He died for us so that, whether we are awake or asleep, we may live together with him. Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.

1 Thessalonians 5:10-11

You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.

Galatians 3:26-29

Crossing the Border

            My time in the Bush was up at the end of January. It was time for me to take a shuttle (basically a big van) from Arusha, Tanzania, back to Nairobi, Kenya. This five-hour journey is a slightly nerve-racking experience—especially when you do it alone. Thankfully I’d made the same trip before on my way into Tanzania and I hadn’t been alone then. So I knew a little of what I’d have to do at the border, but I was still a bit nervous.

            At the border, the shuttle stopped and everyone got off. We all went through one line, crossed the “no man’s land,” and went through another line. The goal is to get through it all as quickly as possible so the shuttle driver doesn’t leave you behind. He wants to keep on schedule, you see.

            Thank the Lord, I got across the border and the bus in plenty of time. Plenty of time for the Maasai people to offer me all sorts of good things through the open van door. One man even offered to trade me his carved giraffe for my watch. I really appreciate my watch, so even though it was a tempting offer, I had to decline.

            As our bus was starting up, I realized that the man who’d been sitting next to me was not back yet. His bag and coat were still there, but he was missing. I was right behind the driver. I tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Are we leaving right now? He’s not back yet!” I pointed to the seat beside me. The driver said, “I know. We cannot wait much longer. We will stop at the rest stop soon for ten minutes.” I knew he was talking about the rest stop that was just beyond the border. They always stop there because they charge you to use the restrooms at the border.

            By this time I was freaking out a bit. This poor man was going to be left behind! How would he ever find us again? How would he get his stuff back? How would he continue his journey? Oh, it was all so unreal! Was this really happening?! What was I going to do? I had to do something! I was terrified for the man!

            When we stopped at the rest stop, I had meager hope that the man would know where to find us, let alone have a way to get to us in time. I contemplated what I should do. I considered I would have to talk to the bus driver and get him to go back and look for the poor guy. I even thought I would threaten to tell his superiors that he left someone behind if he refused to go back! The courage was beginning to well up within me as I prayed that God would help me and the man would be taken care of. BUT, miracle of miracles, the man showed up on the back of a picki picki (motorcycle) at the last minute! Thank God! He had arrived in the knick of time! He had been detained at the border, for whatever reason. I was just impressed that he knew where to find us and he got to us in time! And I didn’t have to threaten the driver! The tension left me completely and the rest of the journey to Nairobi was quite peaceful and uneventful. Thank you, Lord!

                             (Mountain through the shuttle window)

Getting a Little Help with Breakfast One Morning :)

Breath-Taking Views

This shot shows the valley between two mountainish hills. There's a river running through them. I lived far off in the distance of this picture, to the right of the river.

This photo was taken on an early morning as we were on our way to a Duah (Doo-ah, "funeral") that was a three hour walk away.

Made Out of the Same Fabric

Here are two stories that make me smile.

            This little girl’s name is Zooeeah. She is an adorably shy little 4 year old. Her family is the closest neighbor of the missionary women I was living with. She has three older brothers. Now Zooeeah is a spunky little girl, stubborn sometimes, and willful. One time she was trying to do a task (I forget what it was) and she was having trouble. Several people asked if they could help her, including the white women and one of her brothers. No, she did not want their help. “I can do it,” she said. Along comes her oldest brother, Shada. He says, “Can I help you, Zooeeah?” She adoringly looks into his eyes and, in her cute little voice, says, “Eh (Yes).” Another time, Zooeeah was playing with a make shift “car.” It was really a stick with a jug attached at the end of it. She would push it around and pretend it was a car. She and her brother, Moody, who is closest to her in age, started fighting over it. He finally gave in to her, but she started crying. Her father looked up from where he’d been hoeing and observing, and said, “Why are you upset? You got what you wanted.” These stories make me smile because they show how similar people are even when their cultures are totally different. Little girls look up to their older (in her case, oldest) brothers in any culture! There is sibling rivalry too-and often it is between the siblings who are closest in age! People are the same, no matter where they live or in what circumstances. We have the same emotions of affection and frustration and desires for independence and attention. 

            The man in the picture above was my home-stay dad, named D'Atoo but called Baba Asha (Father of Asha). One time, a couple of the women went to visit his home. When they walked into the front of his fenced in “yard,” they found him in a very amusing situation. He was sitting on a stool with nothing on except a kanga (basically a piece of cloth that all the women wear over their skirts) wrapped around his waist. That picture is funny in and of itself. But two of his granddaughters were also there, and he was allowing them to braid his hair! All the people in the village have very short hair, and they are somehow still able to braid it into cornrows. It is not a manly thing to do though. This older man was sitting, wearing women’s clothing, letting his granddaughters braid his hair. That makes me smile because he was so patient with them, having fun allowing them to be silly. At one point he said, “Alright, that is enough. Stop now.” And they begged him to let them keep going. Don’t we all want people to let us be goofy and do silly things to them? I remember when my sister and I convinced our brother to let us dress him up like a girl, put make-up on him, and take pictures. It was a silly thing to do, but don't we all want to do things like that at one time or another?

You see, we are truly all made from the same fabric. Maybe we have different patterns, but the material is the same. God made us; He is the engineer. He has given us ways in which we can relate to each and every human being on the planet. He has created us to be unique too. In that way, we can share points of common interest, yet still learn new perspectives from our differences.

Jesus "Became a Motilone"

            While I was in Tanzania, I was required to read a book called Bruchko. It was very eye-opening to me and I would like to share with you some of the insights that I gleaned from it. There aren’t too many spoilers in here. I think you’d still be able to enjoy the book if you want to read it. It’s fast-paced and exciting!

            Bruchko is an autobiography of Bruce Olson, a missionary to the Motilone Indians. As a young man, Bruce had a fascination with studying the Bible in its original languages (Greek, Hebrew). Through his studies, he came to the realization that it is possible to have a personal relationship with Jesus, and his life was changed. He began to feel called to missions, though he experienced much opposition and rejection from his family, the mission board, and even Christians on the mission field. Undeterred, Olson pressed on to fulfill God’s call on his life, even when he had no earthly support whatsoever.

            Even though Olson’s way seemed unsure and his decisions almost reckless sometimes, God’s faithful guidance and provision are evident through the entire plot. Olson eventually reached the Motilone Indians, whom he had been called to serve. Everyone feared these Indians because no one had ever been able to venture close to them without being killed. God allowed a way for Bruce to live among them though. He patiently learned their language and culture and endured many hardships along the way.

            It was five years before God decided to open the door of the gospel to the Indians. God’s power was revealed in the way He spoke through the Motilone culture and provided salvation through the testimony of the first Motilone who accepted Christ. A revival swept across villages and through the entire tribe. The Motilones became a pillar of faith and evangelism throughout the country and beyond. Bruce’s humble existence in the remote jungle of Columbia changed the course of the Motilone people’s lives and even the entire country!

            One thing that struck me while reading this account is that God’s approval is far greater than man’s approval. When the mission board rejected Bruce, he realized that God was still calling him to go. He needed to follow God’s voice even if humans did not agree. A similar situation occurred when Bruce was with the Yuko Indians, before he met the Motilones. Bruce said, looking back, “The Yukos didn’t particularly want me to stay, but God did. And I would have to follow God” (77). Bruce was learning that rejection from people was not necessarily an indicator of direction from God or his ultimate worth or success in life.

            In the same way, many modern peoples have a negative view of more primitive, obscure people groups. People think they are worthless, unintelligent, unimportant. They reject them. But God does not. He wants them to have relationships with Him. He sent His Son to die for them. He created them. He sends missionaries so that they will hear the gospel. These unreached groups are important in God’s eyes, even though many people reject them.

            Another thing that struck me was the fact that God speaks into each culture so that people can have an understanding of who He is and how He relates to them. When salvation swept across the Motilone villages, the catalyst was Olson’s main companion, Bobby, the first man to receive Jesus. That man, being respected among his people, was able to explain the gospel to all his people during a festival, through a common way of telling important news—singing a song in a hammock.

            Bobby’s presentation of the gospel used analogies that made sense to his people and made Jesus a real, relevant Savior. For example, it is culturally appropriate in the U.S. to say, “I want to invite Jesus to live inside my heart.” For the Motilone culture, Bobby explained that they should, “tie their hammocks into Jesus.” That analogy makes sense to them because they sleep in hammocks. It is a metaphor of complete trust and dependence. Olson observed, “[God] had spoken in the Motilone language and through the Motilone culture. He had not even had to use me” (146). God had prepared the hearts of the Motione people to hear His Word. He placed different ideas into their culture, which made the gospel completely applicable, and he presented it in a familiar, culturally normative way.

            This truth opens my eyes to the vast variety of God’s character, that He can descend to every culture in the world because He created them all and cares for them. I realize that I can be closed minded and narrow in my thinking. My ideas can conform to the American ideas of Christianity, and be judgmental of anything different. I realize now that God is so much bigger than my idea of Him. God is not judgmental, and each people group sees Him a bit differently because of their backgrounds, upbringing, culture, and surroundings. This is not being pluralistic; it is simply not putting God in a box based on my own “American” preconceived ideas or misconceptions about how Christianity should be manifested and spread.

            Ultimately, Bruchko strengthened my faith in the sovereignty of God and his care and understanding of all peoples.

How Can They Believe in the One of Whom They Have Not Heard?

            “We don’t even know him!” The woman exclaimed, exasperated. The woman was confused by the story the missionary doctors had told her about Jesus. They had come for just a short-term clinic. Because the people were desperate for medical attention, they walked hours to get to the clinic (This sounds horrendous to Americans who hardly ever walk five minutes to the grocery store. Let it be known that this is more normal in Africa.). There they would hear stories about Jesus, the Savior of the world. And surely the Lord was planting seeds, whetting appetites, and glorifying his name by revealing it to these people, right? Yes, I choose to believe so with all my heart.

            But I also believe that those seeds would never be watered except for the long-term commitment of the missionaries that I had the joy of living with for one month. The story of the doctors and the Alagweesa woman is true, told to me by one of my companions in Tanzania. The missionary had overheard a conversation between some women about Jesus and the stories the doctors were telling. When she inquired, the village women admitted their confusion, and who could blame them? Without the missionaries faithful presence, their efforts and successes to live among the villagers, learn their language and culture, the Africans could go to their graves without understanding the truth behind the stories they were told about Jesus.

            You see, for these Africans, Jesus does not fit into their worldview. Their worldview is a mixture of superstitious tribal customs, witchcraft, and Islam. When you mention Jesus, they think, “Oh, it is all good. You and I, we worship the same god. Oh, it is all good.” Their pluralistic thinking stems from their willingness to half-heartedly accept Islam while continuing to practice their traditional customs. What’s the difference if they add one more religion to the mix? The problem is also that they have no contextual knowledge of the Bible, of Creation and the Fall. Without growing up with that foundation, it is understandable that they would be confused by Jesus’ seeming importance—their Redemption.

            That is why the goal of the Christians I was living with is to do far more than just present the gospel to the villagers. They want to live with them, learn from them, immerse themselves in the culture and language, build relationships and trust, and share the gospel through everyday life.  Already, they have lived in the village for over a year, yet the first year was mainly language learning and relationship building. They have shared their beliefs through the way they live. God has blessed them with good relationships among their neighbors and language helpers. It is no secret that they are Christians. Since their language skills have greatly progressed, they have recently started doing tri-lingual church services in the village (Alagweesa, Kiswahili, English). In order to do these services, they ask their language helpers to assist them to ensure their translation of the Bible is correct and their sermons make sense grammatically. They have also started personal ministries with small groups of people. Two women teach English to some children who are motivated and want to move on to better education. Another woman reads the Bible individually with women, one of whom was rescued from demon possession.  Because of this, several people have been exposed to the gospel and the Christians have been able to talk with people and pray over them about issues such as demon possession and faithfulness in marriage.

            None of these things would be possible if the Christians had not lowered themselves to becoming learners—learners of culture, language, lifestyle, and humility. And this is only the beginning for them. Their ultimate goal is to present stories of the Bible in the Creation-Fall-Redemption sequence. Therefore, the people can understand the context for Jesus and why he is important to them. It is important that the missionaries have a grasp of the local culture and have firm relationships, because they need to be able to relate the gospel directly to that culture.  As God reveals himself uniquely to each person, he also reveals himself uniquely to each culture. In order for the gospel to be relevant to a people group, they must have it relate to things that they already know.

            For instance, Bruce Olson  (Bruchko) did not preach the gospel until he had lived with the Motilone Indians for five years. When he did preach the gospel, he knew the culture. He was able to relate the gospel to things that the Indians understood. They had a story of a man who became an ant so that he could help them build better homes and not scare them away. That is a parallel to Jesus becoming like humans to save us and not to punish us. That is how Bruchko presented the gospel to them—by using language and ideas that made sense to their culture.

            In the same way, the missionaries I was with have to find creative ways to relate the gospel to the Alagwa culture.  There is already one way they know that the gospel relates. There is a custom in the tribe that, if there has been an extremely devastating rift in a relationship (like recently when a man was angry and tried to kill his son), then, in order to restore that relationship, an animal must be sacrificed and the guts of the animal have to be smeared on both people. Only then can the two be reconciled. In the same way, Jesus was the sacrifice that allowed our relationship with the Lord to be reconciled.

            So, presenting the gospel requires long-term commitment, strong relationships and trust, and cultural knowledge and understanding. For the people to receive and understand the gospel, they need to understand the biblical context for Jesus, his importance, and their need for salvation, and be presented with it in their appropriate cultural context.

            Of course, God works in even the smallest of actions and He calls people to Himself in all sorts of ways. Therefore, what I have just stated is by no means a formula that one hundred percent always brings salvation. Only the Holy Spirit brings salvation to the hearts of men. We are but His vessels. We try to understand other people though and think about being in their shoes. What would make you more likely to believe a message that someone was telling you? Would you accept it if they were strangers and began their message mid-way through, with people’s names that you didn’t recognize, and figures of speech that made no sense to you? It might make you curious, but would you really care to listen? Or would you accept it if it were a friend that you trusted and he told you from the beginning, explaining who the characters were and using phrases that made sense to you?

            I’d venture to guess that the second one is more likely to be your choice. And, if you think about it, Jesus did the same thing by coming down to live among us. He “emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men…he humbled himself” (Phil. 2:7,8). We would not have listened to Him if He had stayed in heaven and made a way for salvation from His lofty abode. No, and we are called to have the same attitude as Christ (Phil 2:5). Therefore we need to humble ourselves to get to know the people around us, care for them, and understand through God’s perfect discernment how they would best receive the gospel—and then share it!

My Home-stay Family

Culture Shock

            During the first week of my time in the Alagwa village, another lady and I spent three days with a local family in their mud-brick, tin-roof, three-room home. As we walked into their “front yard,” which was enclosed by a crudely made fence of thin tree trunks laying horizontally and connecting to vertical posts, we were greeted by the wretched smell of feces and dirtiness. The smell’s culprit was the penned in cows (yawa), donkey (dokwey), and goats (ara) that were no more than 10 or 15 feet from the entrance to the house (do’oh). A wrinkly-faced lady with missing teeth greeted us along with her teenage daughter and two of her grandchildren who live with her. After we greeted them, they tried to talk more to us in their tribal language. We just smiled and shrugged our shoulders. They became our host family.

            During those three days, we began to learn about the Alagwa way of life. We would wake up with the sun, eat a sweet potato and drink chai. Then, we would hoe in their closest field, which was right outside their fence. We would then take buckets and dirty dishes to the river, wash the dishes, fill the buckets with water, and take them back…on our heads. Next was lunch, which consisted of their staple dish called Ugali (Kiswahili) or Fa’ah (Alagweesa). This dish consists of ground corn or bolsoro (green plant), cooked and stirred in boiling water. When it’s done, it has a sort of play-dough consistency. A bowl of Fa’ah is placed in the center as everyone sits on stools around it. You take a chunk of the fa’ah and dip it into one of the side dishes, which can range from ground up leaves cooked in onions and tomatoes (tastes like spinach), sour milk, beans, goat broth, or other things. The main side dish that they love the most is best described as a green slime.            

            These three days were the hardest for me. After a while of eating the same gross food twice a day, I got sick to my stomach with the thought of eating at all. Thank the Lord for the mango I was able to have on the third day! I felt like it was the best food I’d ever tasted. It was also hard to bear the way they treated their animals, especially their dogs and puppies. The puppies were so cute and cuddly, but they were not considered pets and they were regularly hit with sticks, causing them to yelp pitifully. Also, communication was a huge barrier and, by the end of each day, I was exhausted from trying to communicate and listen to their foreign words. This period was the peak of my culture shock, as I experienced new surroundings, language, food, and ways of doing things.