The Joy of Discovery

As I sit here, I can hear the high school band on the field across the road from our apartment practicing for tonight's graduation ceremony. For many this is an exciting time of year. I got to attend another graduation a couple weeks ago, thanks to the kind invitation extended to me by two friends: Justine (whom I met when I hired her to help me learn Lingala) and Emily. Emily and Justine work with a ministry called the Tabitha Center. There are many similarities between the Mitendi Center I often write about and the Tabitha Center. Both reach out to at-risk women and offer discipleship and job training. Here are a few photos from our day.

I have been to a few major celebrations here, and music is an essential part. Sometimes a sound system and DJ are hired and sometimes, as in this instance, a local band is hired. Personally, I prefer the bands. 

Dressing up is also a key part of any celebration here. I have no idea who this fellow is, but I thought his tie modeled after the DRC flag was cool. 

My lovely friend, Justine. I am really grateful to have met her this year. She is passionate about her faith and about helping women in Kinshasa. 

Emily is also one of my newer friends here. She received a gift in appreciation for her service to the Tabitha Center. She blows me away with her talent and her compassion. 

There is no joyous celebration quite like a Congolese joyous celebration, so here is a little sample of the excitement of the day. When the graduates paraded in, I started crying. Their joy is just so contagious and I was really happy for them. Sorry about the quality. It was the only way I could get it small enough to upload for you.

A.A. Milne, the author of the Winnie The Pooh books, once wrote: "One of the advantages of being disorderly is the JOY of discovery." It's true, too. I am surrounded these days by a great deal of disorderliness. Mostly of my own doing, but some can't be helped as we are packing and preparing for furlough and because we live in a place that often lacks order. I've been going through papers and folders and scanning back ups of things that are important. The other day I was going through some old genealogy papers I had printed twelve or thirteen years ago and found this on the backside of one:

All these years I never knew that was in my files, so it was a joyous discovery. I know without a doubt which child did the drawing, and I am sure at that tender age she didn't know what she was drawing on, or that way in the future it would bring a smile to her mama across the ocean who misses her so much. We love what we do here, but we can't wait to see our grown kids and the rest of our families again. Maybe I can even get them to draw me a picture.

Please pray for the people who live here in the midst of disorder, that they will have the joy of discovering new life in Christ and peace that passes understanding. 

"For God is not a God of disorder, but of peace..." I Cor 14:33a

Their Joy and Their Heart's Delight

Have you ever loved someone so much that you hung on every word they said? 

Have you known what it feels like to love God that way? 

I came across these verses in Jeremiah this week during my personal study time. The notation is my reminder to myself of a previous implication thoses verses had for me and a reminder to continue my commitment that I made nearly six years ago to pray these verses for my children. Each time I see it, I pray again, both for them and for myself, that God's Word will be/remain our joy and our hearts' delight.

As an American, I was blessed to be born into a country where God's Word is easily accessible. It is not only available in English, but in several different reading levels so that even young people can read and understand the Bible. Most people in my home country who want a Bible can either easily find an affordable one or a free one. As a result, I think we sometimes take that for granted and we don't truly have the perspective of the Holy Word of God being our heart's delight. I know I'm guilty. 

Not so in other parts of the world. I have a friend who serves with Wycliffe Bible Translators and he has told me that the best estimate on hand is that there are as many as 350 languages spoken in the Democratic Republic of Congo. I asked him how many still have no Bible translation in their mother tongue and he replied "best guesses put the number at 300 yet to be translated." How can God's Word be their joy and their heart's delight if they cannot read it?

Yes, there are scriptures available in French, the official language of DRC, and in Lingala and Swahili, the two most common trade languages, as well as some of the others most commonly spoken. But just for the sake of perspective, my native language is English. I have been taught French and have a French Bible. I actually have two, and one of them is a much simpler version that is supposed to be easier to understand. I am studying Lingala and have a Lingala Bible. I can pick up my French Bible and because I have been taught French, I know how to pronounce the words and even understand most of them. But there are phrases that have nuances unique to native French speakers. There are words I don't know. I miss something in the translation and there is a gap. Even more so when I try to read my Lingala Bible. My tutor spent several minutes yesterday explaining just one verse to me, word by word and phrase by phrase. Even if a Congolese person can somehow afford a Bible, if it is in French or another language other than their mother tongue, there is a gap for them, especially if they have not had an opportunity for good French instruction in their schooling. They cannot fully experience the richness and depth of God's Word. If you had a few years of foreign language courses in school, imagine if the only Bible you could have was in that language and not in your native tongue. 

Did you know that public education in the U.S. colonies was begun in the 1640's in order to train children to be able to read the Bible? Please pray for the people of Congo to have Bibles available in their language, and to have better education opportunities so that they can better understand scripture.  Pray that God's living, life-changing Word will be their joy and their hearts' delight. 

Beautiful Feet

On this day, twenty-two years ago, we welcomed our firstborn into the world. On this day, seven years ago, we officially became missionaries with MAF. Both have been amazing rides so far, a blessing and a priviledge, with lots of ups and downs, lots of laughs and lessons.

I am amazed when I see God's handiwork in the lives of ALL of my kids. I am humbled when God provides for them and cares for them and I realize how much time I waste being anxious for them instead of trusting Him.

I am also amazed and humbled by the believers in Congo who love God and have a passion for reaching their lost countrymen. I count it a privilege to be in a time and place where I get to meet and work with nationals whom God is using to make disciples. 

People like the women who keep the Mitendi Women's Center going, the teachers and staff who volunteer at the Mitendi Primary School, and pastors like the two in the photo above. In this photo they are preparing for a baptism service. The pastor on the left also spends time regularly teaching Bible discipleship at the Mitendi Center - and is likely the best or only father figure many of the girls have ever had.

National pastors face many unique challenges here in Congo. Please pray for them.

And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!” Rom 10:15

Rebooting the Blog

Where have I been you ask? Actually, no one asked, but just in case someone wondered, I'm still here. Several months ago I took a little break from blogging and fully intended it to be just a little break. We were tired and stressed and felt a need to simplify and reduce demands on our time in order to "huddle in" as a family. Then my mom died and for some time after that the blog was the furthest thing from my mind. Losing mom turned my world upside down and it will probably always remain at least slightly off-kilter. It is just a fact that life without her will never be the same.

Through the last several months and all the different stress factors we were experiencing, I progressed from feeling like God was silent and distant, to confusion and devastation, to comfort and hope. God showed in both big, obvious ways and small, quiet ways that His love for me is immense and unwavering, even when my faith is wobbly and frail. 

For as long as I have been a Christian, I have understood God in the context of the relationship between a father and child. That isn't incorrect, but it isn't the whole picture either. God also nurtures and cares for his children in the same way a mother does. I don't know why that would surprise me, since God created mothers and the role of motherhood. But it did change my thinking. In my day to day life here I encounter many who are orphaned or abandoned. It brings to mind, and to my prayers, that God is a father to the fatherless. There are certain things though that fathers seem to do better and certain things that mothers seem to do better. God can do them all. He IS a father to the fatherless, but he also meets the needs that only a mother can fulfill. 

For this is what the Lord says:

“I will extend peace to her like a river,

    and the wealth of nations like a flooding stream;

you will nurse and be carried on her arm

    and dandled on her knees.

As a mother comforts her child,

    so will I comfort you;

    and you will be comforted over Jerusalem.”

When you see this, your heart will rejoice

    and you will flourish like grass;

the hand of the Lord will be made known to his servants,

    but his fury will be shown to his foes.

Isaiah 66:12-14

I am still active in the Mitendi ministry. In some ways, sharing my grief with the women here, even though it was awkward for me, has deepened my relationships with them. They have all experienced loss. They can't relate to my culture or my background but they can relate to my loss. 

We are in the middle of packing and preparing to move, so maybe this isn't the best time to recommence with blogging, but this is when I finally felt prompted to begin again, so bear with me. We'll only be moving a few kilometers, but we will be in a much less stressful situation, which will give us a little breathing room and more energy for focusing on ministry, so we are excited about this.

Goin to the Chapel - Cool Beans!

A week ago, Jill and I had the privilege of joining our friend Mama Jackie in attending her daughter's wedding. I felt honored to be invited, and doubly honored that of all the fabric she could have used to make her outfit for the wedding, Mama Jackie chose the fabric that I had brought to her from the states as a gift from a dear friend (A Gift for Mama Jackie). 

I was triply (is that a word?) honored because the outfit I wore was sewn not by me, but by Mama Jackie. When I tried it on at the fitting, she told me she wanted me to wear it to the wedding, which I was happy to do.




I did my best to get some photos, but between the fluorescent lighting and my obvious lack of skill and training, I deleted far more photos than I kept. My basic plan of attack when I am taking pictures is to take a bazillion and that way I almost always get at least a few good ones. The bride was beautiful, the groom was handsome, and the ceremony was beautiful. I loved seeing the differences and similarities between a wedding in Kinshasa and a wedding in the U.S. 



One of my favorite things about Congolese weddings and churches is their choirs. They have little or no accompaniment, sing from memory, and sound lovely. 

A girl who was in the procession.

Some photos of the bride and groom

King Henry's Horse is an Olive

Missionaries know going in that depending on where they are serving, certain conveniences and items they are accustomed to having easy and affordable access to in the United States will perhaps not be so available or affordable in their host country. Congo is no different, but knowing and experiencing are two different things. Experiencing it long term is something else altogether and can magnify homesickness if we allow it to.



For example, we seldom see pancake syrup in the stores. This is the last batch of syrup I found here. That sticker on the shelf that say "B208" is the price, 27,405 francs, roughly $30.00 for one bottle. Not in our range.




There is a lot of diversity in the DRC and products are shipped in to the stores from many different places. It is sometimes very interesting to see what non-Americans think are hot market items.

It is increasingly apparent to our family that what we believe are basic staples are not so basic, nor important to the merchants of Kinshasa. After we went a few months without finding black olives (except one brand that is especially yucky) or dill pickles, we were having some serious withdrawal. What is a sandwich without a pickle? And what is any "Mexican" meal or pizza without olives? I began to feel like King Richard when he said "my kingdom for a horse!" except that I had no kingdom to trade for olives and pickles. Probably a good thing. 

So, you can't always find olives, pickles, or even tomato sauce. There are lots of other things you CAN find that keep life here interesting even if you can't put them on your pizza or eat them for lunch.




You can buy sugar peas. Not the sugar peas I grew up with, but still important if you want to bake something or sweeten your tea.








You can buy cookies that make you want to eat some more. Not really but it's a fun name.









You can buy a toilet for your hamster, and even get refills for it. For a modest price of about $15 your hamster can go potty in luxury and privacy.

You can even buy Goose Bumps!

I can't make a meal out of Goose Bumps and sugar peas, so I do what most of my missionary friends here do: get creative or make my own version. Here are some things I have made just in the last several weeks.

Pickles like Claussen's, in recycled mayonnaise and pickle jars. Real canning jars are not easily found.

"Wheat Thins"

Pancake mix, pancake syrup, "bisquick", granola, salsa (not pictured), fabric softener, and bath fizzies (because after all that work my feet are tired!).

Yes, we sometimes are willing to pay more here than we ever would for the same item in the states because when you can't get it, it becomes more valuable to you. Shakespeare's King Henry was willing to trade his kingdom for a horse. We traded a lot of conveniences and the proximity of our families and friends to come to Congo, but Jesus traded his life for mine and for the lives of the Congolese people. 

How do you feel about poo?

Every culture has its sayings and proverbs. Sometimes they are wry or silly, which makes them easier to remember, but they often convey a deeper truth. My newest post, "Just a Little Poo," is a reflection on a Congolese proverb and just went up on the MAF blog. Check it out!

Does God hold out on us?

David told me that he had a conversation with a Congolese friend this week and the question arose: "Do you think you have all that God wants you to have? Maybe not all that He intends you to have, but all He wants you to have at this time?"

Compared to those of us who were born in the U.S., this friend has basically nothing. Nothing. It was a difficult question for him. 

It is also a difficult question for the rest of us because the more we have, the more we tend to want, and we desire that God would want us to have it. If we answer "yes" then we have to accept that what we want for ourselves and what God wants might not be the same. And if that's true, then we have to accept that our will might not be in line with God's will. Uh oh. If we answer "no" then we are sort of saying that God is holding out on us. Or maybe that we don't believe He is powerful enough to give us what He wants us to have. Neither is a true assessment of God's character.

It's easier for me to understand if I compare it to raising my kids. There were times I have held out on them protected them. I even withheld good things when I knew that my child was either not ready for it or could not handle it. If I had something they wanted and did not give it to them, it was always in their best interest. 

I know God loves me and those in my sphere of influence and because of that He gives me what He wants me to have to help me grow more like Him, trust Him to meet my needs, and bless others. 

Finding Hope in Mitendi

Last week, Daniel and I spent a couple of days with Jill Lowery to learn more about her missionary role here in Kinshasa. I got to know Jill a little better, learn about the heart God has given her for Congo, AND - I got to see first-hand a ministry that is changing lives! God isn't just working in the bush where our MAF pilots fly every day. He is also at work right here in Kinshasa and the surrounding area.

As a missionary with the Congolese Baptist Community, Jill works with two centers. The first is called Mitendi Women's Center, or Marie Mattie Women's Center and is about a 45 minute drive from my home, in a neighborhood that is impoverished even by third world standards. Marie Mattie was the first Congolese woman to graduate from college here and had a vision for helping women. This center is a two-year residential program for girls at high risk of exploitatioin or prostitution. In addition to the women's ministry, they also operate the Marie Mattie Complexe Scolaire, a school for kindergarten through sixth grade for at risk and vulnerable kids. These are kids who otherwise would not be able to attend school. If you want to know more about what the terms "at risk"  and "vulnerable" mean when applied to children and teens, there is an explanation HERE.

When we arrived, our first sight was all the little school kids standing under a shade tree. I got my camera out and immediately a few kids noticed and started "posing."

Then more kids noticed.

And MORE! This took less than ten seconds. They were all smiles and excitement...

...until the teacher blew his whistle. 

He led them in a couple of marching songs to help them get rid of their wiggles before they headed back into their classrooms. Wish you could have been there - they were SO CUTE!

We were allowed to visit the classrooms, and in each one the entire class stood and sang a welcome song for their visitors. This has happened to me in the orphanages and other schools I have visited. It is very much a part of the culture here and even some adult groups have sung welcome songs for me.

In the Women's Center, many of the young ladies have not had much opportunity for education, so they are taught literacy, basic education, and French. They also learn skills which they can use to support themselves such as crochet, knitting, sewing, and restaurant work. It is a two-year, residential program. They also study the Bible and of course the primary goal is for these girls to come to know Christ and learn to trust in Him.

The day we visited, Mama Jackie was teaching sewing class.

The girls learn with hand-cranked sewing machines...

...and hand-drawn lessons, without patterns. 

The way our grandmothers and great-grandmothers did it.

Currently, funds are being raised and efforts are being made to build a protective wall around the center property to stop attempts to steal and sell off the land, to keep animals out of the vegetable gardens, and to increase the safety and security of the girls who live there. 

This gentleman had the task of getting water for mixing cement - a time consuming task when you have to draw the water by hand from a cistern with a homemade bucket and funnel.

The next day we visited the second center, Marie Mattie Maison de Couture. This center is an extension of the first one, sort of an internship program so that when the ladies graduate from the two-year program, they have a chance to refine their skills and earn money while doing it. On the days that Mama Jackie is not at the Women's Center, she is at the Maison de Couture. The "house of sewing" is in the city and has better power and electric sewing machines. Some are hand-crank machines that have been transformed into electric machines!

The ladies sew school uniforms, clothing, surgical drapes and bed coverings for hospitals, baby layettes, and more.

One of Jill's tasks is to inspect each completed item, since the girls are still in the learning process. Each intern then has to correct her mistakes before an item can be sold. This teaches them to take responsibility for and pride in their work and to understand the importance of doing one's best. It also reinforces the core verse for the center: Colossians 3:23-24, which says “Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance. It is the Lord Christ whom you serve.” 

Jill and Mama Jackie are always on the lookout for new things for the interns to make and sell, increasing their skills and their potential to earn a decent living for themselves. Here they are inspecting a quilted zipper pouch that I had with me so they could see how it was made. 

I am sure I left out something, or several somethings, about this vital ministry, so I have included links below to the Lowerys' web site and to a site with information about the center. I asked Jill if there are any specific ways to pray for the ministry and this is what she shared with me.

First: Pray that the girls will persevere and complete the program. They face many obstacles.                                                     Second: The greatest stress right now is getting the wall built and bringing an end to the problem with the man who is trying to sell off the land that belongs to the center. Pray that God gives favor over corrupt officials.                                                         Third: Pray for Mama Jackie for continued health. She has given her life for the ministry and without her, there would be no center.

Useful links:

Lowerys' Web Site

About The Fence Project

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

But I managed to do it to my favorite RevereWare sauce pan. We were cooking and heard a popping noise. When we lifted the pot, the bottom had come off. I got my set of RevereWare pots for a wedding gift, twenty-three years ago this month, and have dragged them with me everywhere. I had sort of taken for granted that they would last til I died. I did not even know these pots were two pieces instead of one. Oh, well. Now it fits in better with this family of cracked pots.

Thursday was my last evening with the ladies Bible study group from Nsango Na Bomoi, Christine's church. I will miss these faithful women and look forward to seeing them again in January.

We had to order them to smile for the camera! The Congolese usually sport serious faces when they have their photos taken.