Six THOUSAND Words

Since a picture is worth a thousand words, here is a recap in pictures of what we've been up to.  There are six photos, so I figure this is a 6,000 word essay.  The photo above was taken at the orphanage in Kimbondo by Daniel.  This week we had great power and terrible water.  As the days went by with still no city water we kept conserving, and the laundry piled up.  Then on Thursday we finally had water coming in again so by default it instantly became laundry day.  The goal was to finish as much as possible before the power or water shut off. We ended up losing both, but not before six loads of clothing were finished!  I am grateful not just for the clothing we have and the ability to get it washed, but also that I don't have as much laundry to do as you see in the photo.  Hundreds of kids means the laundry is NEVER done!

We found a home for one of our kittens (not the one pictured).  We still have four left and really can't keep them so please pray for good homes for the kitties.

Tuesday evening our ladies Bible study group had a potluck with a Mexican theme to celebrate having completed our latest book study.  Two in our group have furloughs this summer and others will be traveling so we are likely taking a break for a while.

We've been reading Henry Reed, Inc. in school together.  Daniel enjoys the author's sense of humor and relates well to the main character, Henry Reed, because in the story Henry is an expat who has spent most of his life abroad.  As a family we've been reading Monster in the Hollows out loud.  This is the third in a series by Andrew Peterson and we've thoroughly enjoyed them all.  They are full of adventure, humor, and virtue.  The author is the same Andrew Peterson who wrote my favorite Christmas album Behold the Lamb of God.

We went to the orphanage Friday and played with the kids! 

Since I couldn't do laundry, I took advantage of the electricity and worked on my quilt project.  I finished 64 4-patches, 16 9-patches, and 64 quarter square triangles.  

What Not to Pray for Your Missionary

praying (Photo credit: ater_unda)

Today I feel compelled to share someone else's blog post with you.  At times, especially during the recent elections, people have said things to us like:

"When are you going to get this out of your system?"
"It's time for you to come home."
"It's too unstable there, maybe you should go someplace else where it's safer."
"We're praying you home."
"There's plenty of work for you here at home."
etc, etc, etc

I know that these comments were made because we are so deeply loved and because others are concerned about us.  We don't take offense or get angry.  In fact, we take it as a reminder that many people care about us and pray for us!  But we do get discouraged.

Since the author of Inky'Spot said it much better than I could, please read her post "Dont Pray Us Home."  I love her quote by D.L. Moody.  She has listed some ways you can pray for us (and for her!) and encourage us.  I'll just add a little bit to her list.  Don't pray us "home," but it is absolutely OK, and a good thing, to pray for times of rest and refreshment for us, to pray for a "getaway" once in a while.  Pray also that we will be an encouragement to others!

We love you all.  We pray for you and appreciate you.  And we need each one of you.

nb

Kids With Cameras: What They See is What I Get

Our car is still broken down, so I’ve been staying pretty close to home.  I wasn’t going to go to the orphanage this week either because of the car problems.  HOWEVER.  One of the new friends I met in February returned from the states to finalize the adoption of her son and wanted to return to Kimbondo, so Daniel and I went out there on Friday with Kim and her husband, Jeff.  The last time Kim was here “coincided” with my driver being out of town.  I told Kim that every time I am without transportation to the orphanage God seems to send her to Kinshasa and maybe she should pray for my transportation needs, lest she have to return again.  

I suppose the older kids had the day off from school because several of them were in the courtyard that is supposed to only be for the preschoolers.  Some of them were bullying the little ones and we had to intervene the best we could.  

Daniel likes to be my “photographer” when we go places so I passed my camera to him when we got there.  The thing about trusting a child to be your photographer is that you never know what sort of photos you will end up with.  Being younger and shorter gives Daniel a different perspective, so he takes photos of different things, and from different angles, than I might.  The quality also varies because it is hard to keep the camera still when other kids are jostling him and trying to snatch the camera away.  There are always surprises when we get home and I put the memory card into the computer.  Today was no exception, and I found this beauty in my camera:

Ha ha!  Don’t I look lovely?  Go ahead and laugh.  I did.  The boy behind me was pulling my hair with great gusto, more from curiosity than from a desire to hurt me.  I got beat up a little more than usual since the older kids were around.  One boy kept slapping me on the arm and yelling "mundele" at me because I was not blowing up balloons fast enough and he didn't want to wait his turn.  

Giving Daniel a camera lets me see things from his perspective in a very tangible way and is a good reminder for me that people often see the same things differently.  Here are a couple more photos from Daniel for you.   I wish I had asked him to get more photos of Kim and Jeff and one of us together but I kept getting sidetracked.  They'll be travelling back home soon, hopefully tonight, so pray for them.

How Missionaries Tell Time

Clock for the railway at Whipsnade Zoo (Photo credit: Martin Pettitt)

The Bible makes many references to time.  Some are well-known, such as Ecclesiastes chapter 3 (There is a time for every thing and a season for every activity under heaven.) and Esther 4:14 (Who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?).  Revelation tells us that Satan knows his time is short.

Time seems to go very quickly when we think of our children growing or our loved ones aging.

Everyone marks time in their own way, but we all count down the time until events that are important to us: births, weddings, anniversaries, graduations, holidays, etc.  Missionaries tend to mark time by additional events.  We count down the days, months, or years until we get to leave for "the field," until furlough and our chance to see our families again, until a friend is scheduled to arrive or leave, until the electricity or water might return, until the government processes our paper work, etc.

Sometimes...the countdown seems to go like this:

 Ok, what really happened in this video is that we purchased a clock here and when we changed the batteries, the clock just randomly decided to go backwards.  We filmed it because we thought it was so bizarre.  A quick "thump" knocked some sense into the clock and it began working correctly again.  (I wish that application worked as well in other situations here!)  There have definitely been times in my life where I would have done things differently if I could have "turned back the clock."  Other times, the clock moves way too slowly or way too quickly.

I'm thankful that God is not governed by time like we are.  He never sleeps, never grows weary, and always has perfect timing! When I grow old and feeble in mind or body, the Ancient of Days will still be all-powerful, all-knowing and ever present with me. And when I think I'll never last until the next event, whether it's furlough or a day of electricity, He is my sustainer.

Running an Obstacle Course in an Oven Full of Mosquitoes

View of my road from my yard.  This is one of the better roads in the neighborhood.

On my birthday, we had to take Emily to the eye doctor and decided while we were down town to go out for supper to celebrate.  It was quite the evening.  A police officer tapped on our window while we were stuck in traffic and asked to see David’s driving license.  We had not done anything illegal.  Our crime was having fair skin.  The officer took David’s license and drove away on his motorcycle, leaving us still stuck in traffic.  Presumably, he wanted us to follow him so he could attempt to extract a bribe for the return of the license.  We have no idea where he went and still do not have the license.  On the way to the restaurant, our car overheated.  On the way to the orphanage Friday, our car overheated again.  Then on the way home from the orphanage, the car again gave us trouble.  So…we are having to borrow an MAF vehicle until David can get the car repaired.  We are really missing AutoZone right now.

I spent Thursday evening at my friend Christine’s house.  She was hosting a women’s Bible study group from her church and had planned to show the film Courageous, in French.  Twenty-five women came and packed her living room.  I always enjoy meeting the ladies and studying with them as much as the language barriers allow (most speak French but they prefer Lingala).  Watching them as they watched the movie was much more fun than I could have anticipated.  During the police chase, every single woman was literally gripping the sides of her chair and leaning forward.  When the runners jumped a fence or took a dive, the ladies oohed and aahed simultaneously.  Occasionally Christine would stop the movie and explain a cultural difference for them.  Sometimes they would see something and all start discussing it enthusiastically, oblivious to the still playing movie.

I don’t see these women often and I have trouble remembering all of their names, but they are a special group.  They walk to the Bible study.  It’s only about a kilometer, but I met one woman who walked the entire way on crutches.  I am not talking about American made, just the right height, rubber tipped aluminum crutches.  I’m talking about something out of a Dickens novel – crude wooden things of differing heights with cloths tied round the tops and bare stubs on the bottom.  She had no nice sidewalks with ramps at every intersection either.  She had a hilly, torn up road full of holes and rocks, just sand in some places and concrete in others.  Her condition is permanent and it’s hot here.  One would completely understand if she didn’t want to make that trek in temperatures of upper nineties.  But she did it.  She didn’t complain about it either.  She was just glad to be there.  Going to a group Bible study may sometimes be inconvenient for me, but it is WORK for her.  Next time I think I do not have time in the evenings or it is too much work to get the family fed and get there in time, I hope the Holy Spirit reminds me of that woman.  Here are some more photos of typical streets, yards and buildings here.  As you can see, it is a very challenging environment, especially for someone with a disability.

Another view of my road.  You have to navigate around that pile of trash and debris all the time.

Imagine having to navigate through this!

My favorite is this one I like to call the Kinshasa version of a strip mall.  It's a major road, so it does have a sidewalk, but the vendors have taken it over.

A Historic Day for the People of Congo

Image via Wikipedia

Image via Wikipedia

Today was a historic day for the people of the Democratic Republic of Congo.  The International Criminal Court has issued it's first verdict - guilty.  Thomas Lubanga Dyilo, after a prolonged trial that began in 2009, has been convicted of abducting and recruiting child soldiers as young as 11 in the eastern Ituri region and using them to participate in armed conflict.  Lubanga Dyilo has been accused of other atrocities, including abducting young girls and forcing them to serve as sex slaves.  I have a teenage daughter and a ten year old son.  I can't begin to imagine the agony those children and their parents have suffered.  There are still others out there in Congo and in other countries who exploit children and use them as weapons.  There are still thousands of child soldiers in this country.  There is still much to be done, but today a step was taken in the right direction.  Finally, the cycle of impunity may truly be breaking.

The Congo needs justice.  She also needs healing.  Pray for truth to prevail, for an end to impunity, for healing, hope and salvation.

related articles:
Lubanga guilty of using child soldiers
In landmark ruling, ICC finds Congolese warlord guilty of recruiting child soldiers

How to Exponentially Increase Your Husband's Stress

Photo source: Reusable Art

Some times when a person is under stress or having a hard time, blessing them is not the temptation that first presents itself.  We don't usually deal with our stress and problems by being all sweetness and warm fuzzies.  Often we drive people away.  But we married our men for better or for worse, and most days, my husband receives the "worse" and I receive the "better."  I know all sorts of things that definitely do not bless my husband (or anyone else) during  a stressful time.  I know, because I have at one time or another tried all of them in the 21 years we've been married.

How to Exponentially Increase Your Husband's Stress (subtitled: stuff I learned not to do after I had already done them):

1. Reacting instead of responding.
2. Assuming because he hasn't said anything more about it, that the problem has gone away.
3. Taking it personally when he is quieter than usual or when he says something he normally wouldn't.
4. Inviting people over to distract him from his troubles.  Never works.  Never.
5. Talking to him incessantly.  I don't know why, but they don't like this.
6. Trying to "one up" him - let him know how much longer my list of problems is than his.
7. Ask him when he's going to fix the car, the toilet, etc.
8. Tell him to just get over it or to stop making such a big deal out of it.
9. Committing him to more activities without asking him first.
10. Play the martyr.  Make a big production out of everything you do for him.

photo source: Reusable Art

I found an article called "10 Ways to Bless Your Husband When He Is Having a Stressful Week."  The big difference between the list that Sandra Peoples has written and my list is that her list revolves around the other person, not around self.  I like this little article because it is practical and do-able.  I don't have to read his mind or do acupuncture or learn to play golf.  Just look for real things I can do that give him one less thing to think about here, one less thing to do there, a few more minutes of rest in between, and a little less chaos.

So, if you are interested, check out 10 Ways to Bless Your Husband When He Is Having a Stressful Week.  Then just in case she's having a stressful week, leave her an encouraging comment.  I'd love to hear your ideas too!

Any Place Else

Emily arrived home Thursday evening, happy and exhausted.  She had a great time on the youth trip.  While she was gone, I home schooled my friend’s daughter until her mom came back from a trip.  I cut the fabric for a new quilt project.  Now I just need free time and electricity at the same time so I can start assembling it.  Maybe I don’t have the best hobbies for living here, since both digital scrapbooking and quilting require electricity.  Or maybe it makes me more appreciative when I do get to work on them.  OH!  And Daniel found the memory card I lost in December!  Yaay!  Somehow it ended up tucked between two games in the closet.  Maybe we should play games more often.

Yesterday a group of us MAF wives went to the orphanage together.  Here are a couple of the sweeties I encountered in Kimbondo this trip.

I noticed Marina right away because one of the sisters, Nori, was playing with a group of kids and Marina was the only one who wasn’t smiling or participating.  When I mentioned it to Nori, she told me that Marina has just been there a few days and is still in shock.  She is 5 years old and is the size of a 2-3 year old because of severe malnutrition.  This could be the first time in her life she is being fed on a regular basis.  She had several skin eruptions, also due to the malnutrition.  Nori told me that Marina had been abandoned at the orphanage and arrived with an infection.  She still had a fever.  I thank God that she was left there and not on the streets, but Marina is still very hurt and confused.

Emmanuel has been at Kimbondo Pédiatrie for some time but I had never met him because he was too weak and was in the infirmary.  He’s finally strong and healthy enough to be in with the other children his age.  Emmanuel can’t walk or talk, but he can sure smile!  

I really do not know what would happen to  Marina and Emmanuel if they had ended up any place else, and honestly I don’t like to think about it.  The orphanage at Kimbondo actually began as a clinic for treating malnutrition in the region, grew into a hospital over time, and then also an orphanage.  They have the capability to treat Marina’s health issues and a physical therapist for Emmanuel.  They have staff like Nori.  The most negative thing I have ever heard Nori say was in response to a remark I made when she and I were each holding several children and there were others crying because they wanted to be held also.  I said I wished we had enough arms to hold them all.  Nori replied: “that is the problem.”   

Pray for Marina in the upcoming weeks and months, that God will heal her body and her broken spirit and help her to adjust to her new home.  Pray for Emmanuel to continue growing stronger.  Pray that God will give wisdom, strength, and encouragement to Nori and the other staff.

Who Wants to be a Stink Bomb?

Image via Wikipedia

Several days ago, I noticed a bad odor when I was in the kitchen. I joked about it, telling my friends that “something is rotten in the state of Denmark,” meaning my my pantry. I checked the onions and potatoes. I checked the floor, thinking a cat might have had an accident. I found stale bread, but never found the source of the smell.  

We just kept tolerating it. No one wanted to clean the pantry from top to bottom. Everyone hoped the smell would magically go away on its own.

Then a couple nights ago David had to move some stuff around in there. I heard him ask “what’s going on with the tomato paste?” I had purchased a box of 100 cans of tomato paste because they were cheaper that way and stored the box in the pantry. Many of them were swelling on the ends and several had obviously ruptured. Instead of red tomato paste though, the cans were covered in a sticky black goo and grey mold. Voila! L’odeur! Of course we had to pull the box out and clean up the mess. Afterwards, though, the smell was gone.

We are like those cans when we keep toxins bottled up inside: angry thoughts, unforgiveness, criticism and bitterness. Sometimes instead of dealing with things and asking God to forgive and heal us, we stuff it all in and slam a lid on it. Eventually we explode like a bomb, usually on someone we love who is totally innocent. Or we simmer, exuding a bad “odor” so we are like poison in the atmosphere around us.  Christians are the aroma of Christ among both the saved and the lost.  I would much rather be "aromatherapeutic" (is that a word?) than noxious.

Tragedy in Brazzaville

Congo river (Photo credit: Karin.Lakeman)

Yesterday morning we heard a series of loud explosions.  Windows opened and slammed shut, the house shook, our ears popped, chairs moved.  Everyone here does not own a television or a radio, and news coverage is not live and instant, so people were guessing and rumors were flying as to the cause.  We were told more than one story.  There was an invasion from Brazzaville, the capitol city of the Republic of the Congo across the river.  We were told a munitions dump had exploded.  A military depot full of explosives was on fire.  There was a coup.  Etc.

Image via Wikipedia

As it turned out, an arms depot in Brazzaville really had caught fire and caused the explosions.  Our church lost a window.  Friends of ours now have a cracked ceiling.  I have not heard of any injuries or deaths here in Kinshasa, but my heart is hurting for Brazzaville right now.  Some estimate over 200 deaths so far and collapsed buildings may contain more dead.  Hundreds have been injured.  Churches collapsed on entire congregations.  One report I read that broke my mommy heart said that the government had to take custody of numerous children found wandering the streets, separated from their parents and unable to locate them.  We have missionary friends across the river.  They are in the northeast region of the country, far from where the blasts occurred, but I am certain their hearts are breaking for the country they serve and love.  Please pray for the Congo Republic and the people of Brazzaville.  Pray for the Christians who are there, that God will use them to bring hope and healing.

Related articles

• Congo's Brazzaville hit by blasts (bbc.co.uk)
• About 200 killed in explosions in the Republic of Congo (theglobeandmail.com)

What-cha-ma-call-it?

I've been thinking for a while that I would like to add a description in the title section of the blog so people can actually tell what the blog is about at first glance.  I asked my family for ideas and while it generated a long and lively discussion, none of us came up with anything that everyone liked.  One member suggested I keep it simple and use "things that happen to me and what I think about them."  Other suggestions offered were "coffee break considerations" and "reflections of a missionary."

What do you think?  How would you describe this blog for someone in just one phrase or sentence?  Would you use a scripture?  Humor?  Keep it simple?  Help me out here.

***update***

I received a few suggestions and emails and after thinking it over for a while, decided to keep it simple and just add "journal of an unlikely missionary." 

Bad Tasting Medicine

photo credit: Reusable Art

Daniel was sick this week.  When you live in or have traveled to Africa, and you develop a sudden high fever, it is prudent to test for malaria.  Daniel tested negative and it turned out to be just a "bug."  He's much better now.  He's a pretty smart kid, getting sick during the school week and then recovering in time for the weekend.  The rest of us seem to have managed to fight off whatever it is he caught thus far.  Emily's youth group is going on a retreat next week during spring break, so pray for their safety and for the speaker.  Last year Josh and Emily came back spiritually refreshed and physically exhausted.  The kittens have opened their eyes and are starting to actually walk, as opposed to dragging their little bodies around with their front legs like seals.  We are really enjoying them.  I can't say the same about their mama today since last night she decided to sharpen her claws on my Bible and tore up parts of John and Acts.  I was tired and left it on the table, opened, when I went to bed.  I should have known better.  She's always had a paper fetish.  

************

I count it a privilege as well as a calling to home school.  Once one of the kids, at a young age, came to me with a question about the history lesson on the life of Abraham.  “Mom, what’s circumcision?”  I explained.  A couple of days later, the same child asked, “Mom, what’s weaning?”  I explained.  The next day, as my child was getting out books and preparing to read a history lesson, I heard this proclamation: “I don’t think I wanna ask anymore questions about history!”  I asked why and my child replied: “cause I don’t like the answers.”

            I love that my kids feel comfortable being honest and direct with me, even if it means telling me they don’t like my answers.  When I heard my child’s statement, I suppressed my laugh and we talked about how even if what we discuss isn’t a fun or comfortable subject, I would always give truthful answers.   

            Sometimes I have to hear truths that I don’t find enjoyable.  Like this morning when I woke up and my husband told me the cat had torn up my Bible.  Or when someone I love was diagnosed with cancer.  Or when God reveals something to me that I need to repent of or surrender to Him.  Sometimes I feel like saying to God: “I don’t think I want to ask you to search my heart anymore.”   Other times I don’t want to ask God what his will is about something because I already know it, or think I do, and I don’t want to hear it.  Sometimes the truth is like a bad tasting medicine.  It tastes awful, and we don't want to take it, but once ingested it works for our good.

            I’m grateful that I can trust God to always give me truthful answers.  He IS the Truth.  I can be confident that even if what He tells me is unpleasant, it is for my good, so I need not be afraid to hear it.

The Truth Will Set You Free (John 8:31) (Photo credit: technovore)