Re-Learning

I don't know about you, but I have to re-learn things over and over. Being an imperfect person, I forget rather quickly. Thankfully, God is patient and often re-teaches the same principles in new ways. 

Several days ago I was convicted that I was focusing too much on my needs instead of on others. Not only did God help me to direct my prayers and thoughts to those around me, but he also reaffirmed that his ways are better than anything I could ever come up with.  

When the shift happened, energy, joy, and peace increased.  It makes sense to submit to God's way of doing things. It's so much better than our feeble notions. And, when we submit ourselves to God's ways, he's able to use us to accomplish his purposes.  Pretty cool. 

Heaven

Have you ever found yourself with people and in situations where you felt free and empowered to be fully yourself, unashamed?

Then, an hour later with different people in new circumstances, have you struggled to authentically be who God created you to be? I wish to love and care for others, to laugh and play, to speak truthfully the way I want, but feel hindered for whatever reason. And I feel for those who likewise struggle to break free. 

It makes me yearn for what heaven will offer. A place where

we will know each other fully. A place we can be completely ourselves, alive and unbridled, and enjoy others being fully and unabashedly themselves.  Neither walls, fortresses guarding us, nor fear.  Simply celebrating the unique creations and reflections of God, praising God's handiwork in all of us, thereby worshiping his greatness.   

Let your kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven. 

The Night Was Alive

Oh that night and its aliveness and desire for more. Newness and familiarity.  Feeling a surreal peace yet completely far from home. 

Through the creation of music not with instrument, but songs sung in unspoken language and dancing and stomping and clapping and deep laughs and satisfied smiles. 

Scooting up close to a glowing, clicking fire as the night grew cold, eating a warm dinner while watching others peacefully and slowly enjoy theirs.  

Through the mixing of a world people with homes in many places, a celebration of new friends, new experiences. 

Holding a child wrapped tight in a blanket as he fought to fall asleep despite cold toes. 

Eating warm, gooey pumpkin bread baked in the ground with twinkling coals heaped upon its container. 

Through laughing at stories told from familiar faces and new friends.  

Through the awe-filled wonder of an orange sunset. The deepest night dusted with bright sparkling stars and Milky Way galaxy. The faded dots as the larger-than-life yellow moon started its ascent through the chilly sky. 

Knowing it was not the end, yet hoping time would turn back amidst numb goodbyes and heartfelt handshakes. 

Mural Time!

At last I got to start the long-anticipated mural painting! This is what I really get jazzed up about.  

There was some initial confusion as to if new murals would be feasible, considering many walls in the orphanage kitchen and bathrooms already had murals, and murals were not wanted in the school. 

However, a few days later, we realized that the main entrance room of the orphanage as well as the bedrooms were bare.  We talked to the house moms and presented a few ideas. However, they really got excited about painting bible stories.  

For the main room, they decided on the stories of Moses and the burning bush, Moses parting the Red Sea, the nativity scene, and John baptizing Jesus. 

Sketches were drawn and paint bought from town a day after the decision was made. 

Of the two large walls each containing one door and two windows, I finished washing one wall, sketching the images, and outlining  it in black paint.  On day two I finished mixing colors and painting one coat top to bottom on the left side of the door and managed to start the right side. 

Since there's no electricity in the orphanage and the windows are fairly small, it was a struggle at times to see the mural as I wanted.  At times I had to crack the door open a certain angle, put my hand up towards the window light so to reflect it on the wall, use my flashlight app on my phone, or use my headlamp.  

Another challenge was using oil based paint. I'm not used to paint that doesn't easily adhere on the wall and produces plenty of drips; I had to go back several times to wipe up the extra. 

The fumes were less than fun as well. The Tonga moms usually wanted to keep the doors closed so that the babies couldn't get inside and potentially mess up the mural.  The downside was that I sniffed a lot of paint and thinner. Later on the second day of painting, as we were doing dinner dishes, I started feeling nauseous. 

While I originally thought the fumes were the culprit that set me back for 24 hours, I was surprised that the other 2 girls living in the same tent as I, as well as another guy, got a similar illness, none of whom spent nearly any time with the paint.  Who knows. 

Our permanent tent was referred to as the sick tent today.  But even as all of us were sick in the cave most of the day, I was thankful to have a day to rest, pray, and reflect. Even now I'm sitting in the sun as its about to go down. Blessings often come in strange boxes.  

Church

Church in Zambia is very different than that of the US. 

For starters, the Tonga do not jump into their fancy cars and drive to church. Most people walk, a few bike. 

We had a 30 minute walk through the bush, passing by various clusters of dwellings and people eager to wave at and greet us. 

The church building itself was located in the center of a clearing in a field, with the grass at least 2 or 3 feet taller than our heads.  The mud hut had a pointed straw roof and two rows of small wooden benches. There were cobwebs in the corners and we stood on a dirt floor. 

As we came upon the church, I expected us to be the first arrivals, as it was ghostly quiet. But as we walked in, we were greeted by silent smiles. No one talked loudly, but rather in whispers and hushed tones. It seemed they were being quiet out of reverence for the coming service. I learned after the service that the men sat on the left side, women on the right. Oops. 

Everyone was dressed in their best garb. Some men wore button up shirts, black pants, and worn dress shoes. Others wore ragged t-shirts (obviously made in the US) and jeans. The women wore their cleanest dresses or skirts. 

The 2 pastors, who happened to be brothers, had us visitors introduce ourselves by saying our name and where we were from. They were incredibly gracious and welcoming towards us.  

Jako then led a bible study on Moses, which was interpreted in Tonga by one of the brothers. I quickly noticed that church here was interactive. Questions were asked; the congregation more participants than audience. 

After a lady came and read off the week's announcements, a man sitting behind me stood up and gave a sermon. 

I don't believe he prepared what he was to say, but rather spoke on the spot about Jesus healing the blind man. He delivered with passion and authority, so quickly that the translator had a challenge keeping up. 

Another lady, a house mom from the orphanage, then led the congregation, of no more than 10 adults and 7 kids, in a final song. There were no instruments, just the sound of our voices weaved in with the winds winding through the grass beyond the mud walls.  The Tonga sing loud and powerful. They do not plan what they will sing or how many verses they will sing; they decide these matters as the spirit leads. 

After the song concluded, the pastor instructed us visitors to exit first and form a greeting line. Everyone then came and shook our hands, Tonga style, and once again welcomed us. The 2 pastors stuck around to talk to us. After the 1-2 hour service, We then started the 30 minute walk back to main camp. 

Names of God

In the Bible, when someone experienced God in a new way, a name was given to God that somehow described his character or nature. 

Fortress. 

Rock. 

Shepherd. 

These names, and many more, given in response to something God did for his people. 

As I spend this time in Zambia, I encounter God moving, and am spurred to give God names, mostly original.  

God the Coordinator/Play-Maker, for supernaturally providing certain people and circumstances at just the right time and place. 

God my Slap In The Face, for subtly letting me know my focus was primarily on me and not others, and helping me to fix it. 

God the Day-Planner, for showing us where to be when and how to utilize our time each day. 

I'm excited to see additional names that will be added to the list. 

The Tonga

The Tonga are a beautiful people. Soft spoken, quick to smile and laugh.  They are peaceful and contemplative, quite unlike Americans in that they welcome long pauses and take time to gather ones thoughts. They always stop to greet one another, and take offense if no greeting is given. 

 'Kuamba' or 'Mwabuka buti' (How are you? Or good morning)

The response always, 'Kabotu'  (I'm good.). 

Their staple food is nshima, ground maize mixed with water, essentially thick, white, corn meal. 

Preparing nshima is harder than it looks. The Tonga orphanage moms first heat water over a flame in a large pot, then gradually add the ground maize. The trick is stirring with correct strength and rhythm-- any other attempt will result in half cooked nshima falling into the fire or settling in clumps. It's easy stirring when it is still watery, but very challenging as it gets thicker and thicker.  The Tonga women are stronger than they look! 

When the nshima is finished in addition with the relish served alongside (typically soy chicken, anchovie-like fish, or bean leaves), we rinse our hands using a cup of water and basin, then sit down on the kitchen floor in a circle with our plates and eat together.  We use our hands to scrape up a bit of nshima, flatten it, then add an indentation with our thumbs to create a scoop (think tostitas scooper chips) to spoon up the relish and eat. It is very filling. 

The kids at the orphanage are sweet and full of life. There are 17 or 18 kids there, ranging from babies to teenagers.  Within a few minutes of sitting down in the dirt with the young ones, it's not unusual to have 2 or 3 sitting on my lap, one behind me pulling at and playing with my unusual red curly hair, and a few others kicking a ball to me or running at me full speed awaiting my arms to catch and tickle them...all at the same time. 

All of the kids have very worn clothing (they receive new clothing once or twice a year) with holes, stains, and dirt everywhere. The little ones usually have runny noses with flies never far behind. Many young ones don't wear diapers. Better not be afraid of having a kid with wet pants sit on your lap. 

The older girls do the little girl's hair using a comb and thread. Like mothers, the older girls carefully select a section of hair then wrap it around and around with black thread.  It has the look of cornrows but is very simple. 

One if the girls, Millium

is a true leader for the other kids. No older than 10 years old, Millium is like a mother. She carries the babies around, instructs the younger kids, is passionate about her studies, all with a wide, genuine smile and big bright eyes.  I nearly died when she picked up a toddler and instructed him how to run a circle during duck duck goose. 

Today, 4 Tonga women taught me  how to clean maize (corn).  In addition to the maize needing to be separated from the chaff, some of the large bags in the storage rooms were infested with rats and pests. The good maize needed to be separated from the rotten. 

First you fill a large flat bowl with maize. Then you lift the bowl higher than your head and slowly pour it into a larger container. You repeat this process 3 times, shake the bowl to release addition chaff, pick out any corn husks, leaves, sticks, or rotten kernels, then pour it into the larger maize storage bags. 

While sifting, the result is snow. Sort of. As the wind blows between the falling kernels, the white chaff flies out into the air.  It's best not to find yourself in the path of this chaff. It will get everywhere.  The proof was in me looking like I had a severe case if dandruff. Awesome. 

Dandruff aside, I was amazed at how hard these ladies work, and with smiles. They love to joke and laugh together, and are quick to appreciate my humor as well. One of the ladies, Rosemary, was kind enough to teach me many Tonga words.   

It's fun to communicate with the Tonga people as I continue to learn more basic phrases. 

Pictures!

This was what I saw as I came down the escalator to my gate in South Africa.  

Here is Jako and Amber's house on the left. 

Bathroom and shower. The sunlight makes it looks like it just arrived from heaven. 

The house (left) the married couple and baby currently occupy, and the permanent tent (right) us 3 gals rule. 

The outdoor kitchen complete with gas stove/oven. 

Here's Nero, our 9 month old, 140 pound puppy/guard dog/alpha dog. 

Personal Challenges

What's a trip like this without a few challenges? I've created a nice bulleted list containing 4. Enjoy.  

1. Physical exhaustion.  This is an obvious one, considering I had over 40 hours of travel, had a significant time change, and have a new diet. I'm finding I'm finally starting to have more energy and be more myself, after 4 days here. 

2. Emotional exhaustion. It's tiring having to enter into a completely new setting with all new people. I'm constantly learning and figuring out how life works here while getting to know 9 people at main camp, plus around 20 kids and a few local moms at the orphanage, plus people from other ministries who come and go.  I feel like I have to be 'on' all the time. For an introvert at heart, this poses a challenge. However, as time goes on, and I get to know these people more, interacting gets less  effort-full and more rewarding.  

3. What role do I play? Where do I fit in? 

This is a big challenge right now. As an individual from the US, I have been trained to be as efficient and busy as possible, to see a task and set to it! Here in Africa, things are a bit more lax. Get used to waiting, taking your time, and spending just as much if not more time investing in relationships than tasks. 

 I desperately want a role, a specific way to utilize my time each day, but all I see is a gaping window of time with unspecific, ambiguous possibilities to somehow fill it. I'm much more comfortable having someone giving me a job to do; here I must find the task myself and then find a way to do it. 

 I fear being seen as lazy, unhelpful, and unmotivated but I still am learning the basic rhythm of daily life, seeking to discover possibilities to use my artistic gifts, all while still facing challenges #1 and #2. 

Thankfully, I'm not alone.  Two other individuals in camp expressed they strongly felt this way when they first arrived here, and at times still very much feel it presently. One individual and I talked about how important it is to ask God into the ambiguous, asking him to lead us through the day, trusting he'll provide meaningful work. 

4. Insecurities and Comparing. 

Am I in high school again? It sure has been feeling that way. Insecurity and comparing myself to other volunteers and missionaries have been around every corner. 

Here's a glimpse into my thoughts:  Do I have what it takes to make it here? Am I enough? I'm certainly not as helpful/selfless/motivated/energetic/patient/competent/talented/etc as that person! Am I a good enough Christian? Why aren't I as happy/funny as that person? Do people even like me? 

It's humbling to admit these weaknesses; I feel very exposed. However, it is freeing to know others can be let into my world. Hopefully as I  able to practice vulnerability, others will feel permission to do so as well, which always leads to deeper relationships. 

Friendships

Another major item on my prayer list was making friends at MOL. My assumption was that I would be the only volunteer with the exception of a few teams that would come for two week increments later in the summer. I was prepared to be peer-less for two months but also asked God to meet my need for connection. 

After I got off the plane from Zambia and purchased my visa, I was greeted not only by Jako, one of the head missionaries, but also a dating couple who just graduated from school, ages 21 and 22.  Not only was I blessed to know these two individuals would be with me for one months time, but another 24 year old woman would be there during my time there as well.  

What made this situation ideal was that the dating couple, like me, had no experience at MOL in Zambia, so that we could relate in that regard. In addition, the 24 year old had been at MOL for about a year, thereby providing not only a peer, but a guide and mentor to learn the ropes.  

There was also a young married couple with a baby and Jako's wife, Amber, and their two young boys.  

I feel very blessed. I not only have mentors and those older and more experienced, but also peers to relate to and befriend. God is so good. 

Travels

Travels

Well, I'm here in Africa! But before I go into all the details about life here, we need to cover God's faithfulness during travel from the US. 

No doubt my biggest fear and greatest prayer was safety and friendship during travel. With over a 40 hour journey consisting of long layovers in unfamiliar countries combined with me never having traveled alone outside the US, anxiety was never far behind me even thinking about it. I prayed for guidance and making friends every step of the way. 

The morning I was to depart, I cracked open Jesus Calling to June 10th, expectant for a word. I was amazed at, yet completely expecting the text to contain themes of letting God handle the day's details, not anxiously anticipating the future, resting in God, praying, trusting God in the journey, and remembering his presence. That was just what I needed to be filled with at that time. 

After I was dropped off at O'Hare and entered the line to check in, I felt anxiety creep in. I needed to intentionally remember that I was not alone. After I got through security and was waiting at my gate, I struck up a conversation was a lovely African American woman from Chicago sitting behind me. Turns out she was the associate director for a Christian organization/orphanage in Uganda. We talked for quite a while as we waited to board. This was both our first time flying alone and I was filled with such peace talking to her; I certainly did not feel alone.

After boarding, we were only a few rows away from each other. The two ladies sitting next to me again made me feel calm and comfortable. The one girl, from Germany, was quick to smile, looked just like my high school friend from way back, and was also her first time flying alone. 

The other lady, from Turkey, was incredible kind and generous. She's the kind of person who bursts at the seam with joy. She asked me questions and shared gum with us. 

As I was explaining to these two ladies that this was my first time flying alone with the exception of flying from Nashville to Minneapolis, the girl in front of  me whipped around and asked if I was from Nashville. I found out that she was, and that she started two schools in Uganda and that Katie Davis, author of Kisses From Katie, was basically her hero (I read the book a month earlier). 

Not only that, but we had almost an identical 11 hour layover in London. After we landed In London at around 10am, she invited me to spend the day with 2 of her friends. 

The day was incredible. While i was originally planning to figure out London alone, I instead got to make friends with 3 strong Christians. The one friend, originally from Malaysia, was incredibly generous; he literally paid for everything, from the subway tickets, to lunch, to mochas and teas, offered a place to stay if/when I would find myself in London again, and refused any sort of reimbursement from us. I was humbled by his kindness. 

As we sat down and prayed for our lunch that day, I was nearly brought to tears at God's kindness in providing me with Christian friends to show me the way and take care of me. Only God could orchestrate such a plan! 

After we said our goodbyes, we parted ways. Like any good sinner, I instinctively forgot God's goodness and allowed anxiety and fear of being alone cloud over me. I felt the rush of arriving to the airport late and trying to find my gate in the largest international airport in the world. When I did find my gate, I prayed again for calm and connections as golden sunset light poured through the large airport windows. 

I looked up and saw an African man sitting across from me. I asked, 'Is South Africa your final destination?' He said he was on his way to his hometown of Lusaka, Zambia for his cousin's wedding but worked as an electrical engineer from San Francisco.  He was excited for my ministry opportunity in Zambia and gave me not only his contact info but also that of a Zambian pastor who he said I needed to meet. I was honest about my fears and insecurities, but he reassured me. 

As we stood in line, a French lady started talking to me. At age 65 (at least), she has traveled alone since age 22 to dozens of countries, including places in Africa and India. She had such zest for life, and I told her I wanted to be like her. 

After we boarded the plane, I sat next to 2 sisters originally from Canada but were visiting the Christian ministry their parents started in Zimbabwe. 

After we talked, a flight attendant told me that since the plane was quite empty (a rare event! The South African man behind me said that never happens) I could choose an empty row. After saying goodbye to the girls, I found 4 empty seats, laid down, and got a decent nights sleep from 9pm to 9am.  

After I exited the plane, got through security, and sat down at the gate for the flight to Zambia,

I shared some chips with a guy who had been traveling the world for the past 16 months. Originally from England but whose mom lived in Cape Town, he had been pursuing masters in nutrition and sports training but decided to momentarily take a break and see the world. He looked like the younger brother from the band needtobreathe.  

When I got on the plane to Zambia, I met a girl on her way to do medical missions. After the flight, I got to talk with the whole team. One guy even knew how to do the Charleston swing dance move aka mashed potato. Day made. 

As I think back on all the ways God provided during only 40 hours of travel, I can only imagine how God will move during the next two months.  

God's Movin

I was just reminded of a few ways God has provided for me in the context of this journey. 

First, one of the biggest items on my prayer list was securing a post-trip job before I left.  

Check.  

I'm excited to say that things fell into place without much effort.  I secured a .6 art teaching job for next school year at the high school I graduated from.  After praying about finding supplementary work (since a .6 salary won't cut it when it comes to paying the bills), an opportunity to additionally secure a .25 art teaching job at a k-8 school in the district landed in my lap with no effort on my part.  God is so good! 

Second, another item was figuring out living arrangements after my trip.  

My original plan was to secure a room/roommate(s) before I left.  I soon realized that this would be a tall order.  Instead, my plans and expectations have changed.  My current plan is to live at home for no more than a month, which will give me time to readjust into the US in a familiar, stable environment, and provide an ideal work commute.  I am currently pursuing a couple roommate options and am trusting God will reveal where and with whom he wants me to live. 

Third, I have been overwhelmingly blessed in regard to financial support. Unexpected individuals have been coming out from the woodwork, eager to give.  And while I'm not at 100%, I'm excited to pour a significant amount of money into this trip from my own account. 

Yes, I have been blessed. 
Thank you, God!

When Did This Become Real?

Less than a week before I embark on this journey. Didn't feel real before. Now it's starting to.

And I'm scared.

The thought of getting on a plane (alone), flying to and having long layovers in foreign countries (alone), and not knowing anyone when I arrive (still alone)...well, it gives me anxiety.   

I'm used to having someone guiding, leading, telling me what to do (I was the baby of the family for awhile, now the middle).  While God will be with me, speaking in human terms, I'll be on my own this time.  I cannot pass responsibility on another person; I have to bear the load. I fear a lack of personal competency, possibility of danger, and threat of loneliness. 

Today I jumped around in the book of Hebrews. Here are a few phrases that reminded me of God's faithfulness: 

"I will never fail you. I will never abandon you." 

"The Lord is my helper, so I will have no fear."

This final one really resonated with me, in that it promised that while I may not be qualified, Jesus will equip me with everything I need.  All I have to do is depend on him.

Now may the God of peace-who brought up from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great Shepherd of the sheep, and ratified an eternal covenant with his blood-may he equip you with all you need for doing his will.  May he produce in you, through the power of Jesus Christ, every good thing that is pleasing to him.  All glory to him forever and ever! Amen. Hebrews 13: 20-21

 A couple items on my prayer list:

Someone to connect with/talk to on the flights 

A true friend while in Zambia

Bombs away.