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. 

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!

Everyone likes a good story!

Thursday, I was invited to share my testimony with the ladies from Nsango na Bomoi, the church that is pastored by our missionary friends Dan and Christine. I have been a little spoiled because each time I have shared my testimony here I have been allowed to do it in English with someone to interpret for me. This time, I was asked to share in French! Yikes! 

I only had a few hours' notice and still had to do school with Daniel so I sort of cheated. I knew I had forgotten a lot of grammar. I also was aware of the fact that when I am nervous, it is even more challenging for me to think in French. I had written my testimony in French during language school so I pulled that out and edited it a bit. Hooray for saving language school homework! 

French is the official language here, but even among the nationals not everyone speaks French. Many have not had enough schooling to be proficient in French. There was a woman in this group who only spoke Lingala so our time together involved a mix of English, French, and Lingala. I gave my testimony in French and Mama Louise interpreted it into Lingala. If she had a question about something I said, she asked Christine, who then asked me in English so that I could rephrase my original sentence back into French. 

Sharing my story with the ladies was a blessing for me not just because I got a review of some vocabulary I had forgotten, but also because it gave me a way to connect with them. As my story progressed, I could see the ladies smiling and nodding. We are very different in culture and background, but all of us had a testimony. Each of us had a story to tell about how we were burdened and empty before Christ had changed our lives. 

Stories are very popular here, so we also talked about the fact that nearly everyone likes a good story and that if a person is able to share the story of what God has done in their life, they have a very powerful tool for sharing the gospel. Then the ladies shared their testimonies, first in Lingala and then Mama Louise translated into French for my sake. Having heard these ladies' stories made me feel like I was getting to know them on a deeper level. They shared of painful experiences, of growing up in churches that did not teach the gospel so they spent years following rituals without having a true relationship with Jesus. 

A Fun Change in Routine

My normal Saturday routine includes working on the blog in the mornings and playing softball in the afternoons. These last few weeks, we have not had enough players in town to continue softball, so in order to stay active we've had to break that routine a bit and take walks or go swimming. Yesterday I changed up the morning blog post and afternoon softball game routine to do something different and play a different game. I've written in previous posts about our missionary friends Jim and Nancy Smith. They raised their children here in the Congo. For the past few weeks, their son in law, Rob, has been here helping them in their ministry in Nkara. This was Rob's first trip to Congo. Friday evening he returned to Kinshasa so he could fly back to the states today. So yesterday morning Daniel, Pepe, and I took Rob to the artisans' marketplace. In the photo above Pepe, my driver, is on the far right. Between Rob and me is an artist/vendor holding one of his paintings. When ever we go there to shop, this gentleman gives us good prices on his paintings and walks about with us telling the other vendors to give us good prices so that we will keep coming back and bringing our friends. Generally it works, but shopping in the market is also a game. They always start with a ridiculously high price. We always counter with a lower price than we hope to get away with. We all end up meeting somewhere in the middle and everyone is happy. It's how you play the game. Even if it is 99 degrees outside, and you are hungry and tired, and you and the vendor both know exactly what you paid for the same item the last time you shopped, and you really just want to skip to the end, you can't. You can win the game, lose the game, or even quit the game, but you can't skip the game. 

Daniel and Pepe at TASOK campus, Shawn's school

We also visited some of the old stomping grounds of Rob's wife, Shawn. He was able to see places she lived, studied and worshiped and take photos to show Shawn what has changed and what has not. I'm sure when he gets home with his photos and shares his experiences there will be some nostalgic moments for Shawn. I remember what it is like to be in a strange country trying to travel and shop when no one speaks my language, so I was glad to be able to help Rob. I had a lot of fun seeing Kinshasa through fresh eyes again and explaining things for him. I also remember the first time David took me to see the places he spent his childhood and how that felt, to have that added connection and to actually see the things he had described to me. Very cool beans.

I Did THIS for YOU!

Of all the frequently heard sounds in our home: laughter, talking, movies/games, kittens, etc; there is one sound I hate to hear.  I don’t know how to describe it, but if you’ve ever heard it you will know what I’m talking about – that nasty popping noise that occurs when an appliance or electrical outlet “blows up.”  Twice this week we’ve turned on a light switch and heard the “pop” while sparks rained down from the light fixture to the floor.  This morning I lost my kitchen outlet while brewing coffee.  So, in a week’s time we are down two lights and our outlet.  

Yesterday I had to deliver two of our kittens to TASOK so they could go home with their new owners.  We just got a new MAF family this week, the Linds, and I invited Lisa to come along and eat lunch on the campus.  On the way home the car broke down again.  Welcome to Congo, Lisa.  I was very grateful that we were within sight of the house when it happened, but a bit disappointed.  The breakdown meant two things for me. First, David and two friends of ours spent all that time working on it and the problem still isn’t repaired.  Second, I won’t be going to the orphanage for a while.  The car can’t make it that far.  To add to the day’s adventure, my daughter came home with one of the kittens.  The boy who was supposed to get the kitten couldn’t take it home because his father had neglected to tell their driver, who refused to allow it in the car.  

The school musical is finally finished.  Emily had both acting and singing parts in the musical and did a wonderful job.  Yes, I am biased, but she really did do wonderfully!  I imagine that David and I looked pretty goofy sitting in the audience with our big grins and beaming faces.   She is already focusing on her next extra-curricular activity: auditioning for the school talent show and assisting Mrs. Francis with the auditions for the elementary school students.  

Tomorrow our church is meeting at sunrise by the Congo River.  Sunrises make me feel hopeful and expectant.  It’s like opening a present on your birthday and finding inside a gift that someone lovingly made with you in mind.  Tomorrow I get to look out over the vast Congo River as the sun plays on the water, coloring the clouds, and think not just about this beautiful world God made, but also about the sacrifice Jesus made, and in my spirit hear Him saying “I did THIS for YOU!”  Have a wonderful Easter! 

Lost in Translation: Picture This

No trip to the orphanage this week.  My "driver" is out of town.  I'm still spending my week with kids, though.  I have a missionary friend who is going to the U.S. next week for a month.  Her husband and kids are staying here so this week Daniel and I are taking school to their house to get acquainted with the way she does school with her daughter.  The plan is for me to be her teacher while her mom is gone.  Yesterday went well.  It helps that Daniel is a good reader, has a cooperative spirit, and doesn't mind doing some of his work independently.

The MAF blog is now featuring a weekly posting about raising kids on the mission field, called Moms on a Mission.  This week spotlights one of my recent posts Daniel's Bottle Bucket Battle.  You can check out the MAF blog HERE.

Sometimes we see things here that strike us funny either because their intended meaning was "lost in translation" or because they mean different things in different cultures. Living in a third world culture can affect one's sense of humor.  Our family's sense of humor was already weird to being with, but I hope you enjoy these.  Some of these photos were taken from a moving vehicle and/or with a cheap phone camera because taking photos here can invite trouble, so please excuse the poor quality.

Sometimes the folks who stock the shelves in the stores don't know what an item is so they make a guess about where it ought to be placed. Here the Odor Eaters foot spray is shelved between the bug spray and the rat poison. Our guess is that it was because the can says it "kills odors" and someone recognized the word "kills."

Everyone likes to drink "mildew,"right? This is actually coffee and it wasn't too bad, but the name just doesn't sound very appealing to those of us who speak English.

This is not where all the expats go to exchange their money.  It's actually a new grocery store that the owner named after his wife Monique.

Another good food with a not-so-appealing name.  This is not a cough inducer or a cough suppressant.  It's applesauce.

We love the name of this store that we pass on our way to and from the orphanage.  If I said to someone in the states, "I'm going to Fanny Wax," this is probably not what they would imagine.   "Wax" in Congo refers to the way local fabrics are made. This is actually a store that sells fabric and clothing.

Adventures in Cableland

The photo was taken just yesterday, in the lot behind our church. Friday night Josh's choir had a performance, which we all enjoyed very much. Their performance was part of a fundraiser for a local orphanage, so the admission fee was a donation of food or cash. From the looks of things, they had a very good response. Josh got news from one of the colleges he applied to that he has been accepted. Please pray for a really good financial aid offer!

On Tuesday, Christine was hosting a Bible study for the ladies in her church and invited me. There were several ladies, maybe 15 or 20. Some of them spoke French with me, but the study was in Lingala, and so were the songs. I got to sing "Holy, Holy, Holy" in Lingala. I had no idea what I was actually singing, but because I know the hymn, I knew the heart meaning of the song and was still able to worship with them. I enjoyed meeting the ladies and they invited us to visit their church. Since Josh plays guitar for our church, I'm not sure when I'll get the chance, but I would like to visit one Sunday. Since I don't know Lingala, I'm sure it would be a bit out of my comfort zone, but I'm the world's biggest chicken, so everything is.

One day last week I woke up to a strange noise. Our voltage regulator was going crazy. The electricity comes to our house in three phases. When I checked them, the first two phases were dead and the third phase was getting 343 volts and climbing. I shut the breaker switches off to the house, but not in time. Our a/c got fried. Thanks to some help from a friend here, we discovered that the cable down the road had burned up and about three meters of it needed replacing. I use French every single day here, and get along fairly well most of the time, but these guys from the electric company were using a lot of vocabulary that I didn't know yet and speaking plenty fast, so I was very grateful for my friend, Christine. She speaks Lingala and spoke with them in my behalf. We learned that here in Congo, when a cable burns, the electric company does not pay for it. Nor do they pay their workers to repair it. The affected neighborhood has to pool together and share the expense, and the labor costs. We were told up front that on our street, there is only one other person who is ever willing to pitch in toward these types of repairs, and he is out of the country right now. Our other neighbors had bigger generators and more money for fuel, so they were willing to wait until we caved in and paid for the whole thing. Which we did, because we wanted electricity. The good news is that our power is better now than it was before all this happened. We actually have all three phases when the power is on, and the voltage is better. The power situation over all is improving also. For a long time, we only had power for a few hours in the middle of the night. Now we are having power almost every night and every other day. When I lived in the U.S., having electricity only every second day would not thrill me, but here it makes me very happy! I wish I could take a photo of the "new" cable for you. You wouldn't believe it! It doesn't look anything like what the utility companies do in the states.

A Couple of Triples

Yes, it's been a really, really, really (triple number one!) long time. I could make a bunch of excuses, such as we have power outages nearly every day, we have internet problems frequently, I'm busy home schooling two kids and cooking from scratch, I got caught up in Thanksgiving and Christmas and potlucks and all that - all of which are true, but whatever the excuse, it has still been a really, really, really long time. I'm sorry. Ok, quick "catch-up", in as few words as I am capable of. All of the windows have been repaired. And the roof. Last month Emily told us her wall, the one between her bedroom and the bathroom (yes, the same bathroom that flooded with sewage and has a broken toilet) was wet. It had been wet for a while and she just thought the spot was a stain from when the roof leaked until she actually left something touching the wall and it got wet. The stain was wider than my arm span and about 3 feet high, and a nice mold was growing. So, the plumber came out and made holes in the walls to fix the pipes. At least he filled in the holes though, and Emily's wall is drying. We celebrated the holidays with our MAF team and other missionaries here. It was hard to be away from family, especially since our skype wouldn't work. Josh played in the orchestra for the school musical in December. We searched for things to buy for the kids for Christmas and could not find anything here, so I bought some local fabric and sewed gigantic bean bag chairs for each of them. We filled them with bags of chopped foam that we bought at the local mattress factory. They were a big hit! We still have power and water issues, almost daily. Once we had no power for 72 hours. A couple of times we ran completely out of water, even in our reservoir, and had to haul water from the Francis house. We had the annual MAF family conference in January. It was our first conference and we really enjoyed it. We have hired a tutor to help us improve our French. There are two things which make French more difficult here than I had anticipated. One is that our vocabulary is too small, we just don't know enough words. We're working on that. The other is the accent here. The Congolese don't pronounce their vowels the same way we were taught, and it has caused some misunderstandings. For instance, when they say "two", it sounds just like "ten". That makes shopping fun. A couple of weeks ago, I asked our guard how his family was doing and his response sounded like "sah vah impay". I knew what the first part meant, "ça va" means "it goes", a way of saying things are fine. I couldn't figure out what "impay" was, but I knew "paix" means peace, so I thought "he must mean all is well and peaceful", so I said that was good news. He looked at me strangely but said no more. Then David asked me a couple days later "what does impay mean?" Our guard had just said the same thing to him, again in response to an inquiry about his wellbeing. I told him I didn't know, that I couldn't find anything like it in the French dictionary, and what I had guessed it meant. He said he had guessed something similar and said "that's good" and got the same strange look. So the next time our tutor came, we asked him about it. He said it the same way our guard did, but when he wrote it out for us, he wrote "un peu", which sounds more like "uhn puh" (short nasal sounds, not long vowel sounds)in International French. Ding! The light was now on! It means "It goes a little", which here means the same as saying it is not going well at all. So our guard was telling us things were not going well for his family and we were telling him what great news we thought that was! I felt even worse when we learned that he had two children with malaria that week. So, that's one lesson we shan't forget and a mistake we won't make again. One more small chink out of the language barrier.
Ever since Christmas, my friend Sandy has been waiting patiently for me to remember to share my recipe for crescent rolls. To atone for neglecting my blog for so long, I'll share it here also. I got this recipe from my sweet mother in law and it makes nice flaky rolls. And the smell! Amazing! They are really, really, really (triple number two!) good! Here you go, Sandy!

Crescent Rolls

4 1/2 cups flour
3 eggs, beaten
1 package plus 1 TBS yeast (so you don't have to look it up like I did, one packet contains 2 1/2 tsp)
1 tsp salt
1/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup Crisco (I try to avoid shortening. You know, the whole hydrogenation thing. So I use real butter and it works fine.)
1 cup scalded milk

Mix milk, butter, sugar and salt. Allow to cool to lukewarm. Add yeast and eggs. Add flour a little at a time until dough is too stiff to stir. Let rise, or chill until later. Three hours before baking, divide into three sections. Roll out into circles and baste with melted butter (not too much). Cut like a pizza into 8ths and roll into crescents. Let rise. Bake 6 minutes at 375 degrees.