Hands in the Air!

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     We say so much with our hands without even thinking about doing it.  Remember the popular exression several years ago "talk to the hand?"  We use our hands to give and receive, to say "come" or "go", to show our intents and feelings.  At our church here in Congo, people extend open hands during the benediction as if to be accepting God's blessing.  When a child raises his hands up to his parents, he is saying "I want you. I trust you.  Pick me up!"  We raise our hands to show excitement when cheering for our favorite team.  At amusement parks some people on the rides have their hands in the air and smiles on their faces.  Others, not so much.
     It isn't hard to compare real life with a roller coaster ride.  Both can be terrifying, taking sudden unexpected changes in direction and going way too quickly for us to take it all in.  You can't always see what's ahead and sometimes it turns everything upside down.  On the other hand (no pun intended), both can also be a thrilling wind-in-the-face experience that leaves us laughing and saying "That was an awesome ride!"  Some of us ride roller coasters with our hands in the lap bar, white-knuckled and tense, dreading the ride.  Some though, anticipate a great ride and say to everyone else on the roller coaster:  "It's more fun if you ride with your hands in the air!"  They trust the safety straps to keep them in the right place and protect them.  If my walk with God were a roller coaster ride, I'd want to be a person that anticipates a great ride, knowing no matter which way it turns or how many loops it takes me through, He is there.  I want to ride reaching to Him in trust and ready to receive his blessings, and to let my companions know that it is more fun if you ride with your hands in the air.

     "Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you.  I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name I will lift up my hands." Psalm 63:3-4

Gifts From God for Right Now

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This is a crazy week.  It's a good week for realizing how valuable relationships are.  I have dear friends here whose 92 year old father is probably not going to live much longer.  His loss will be felt deeply by the Congolese community as well as the missions community.  Yet in the midst of all this they are continuing to focus on and serve others.  This week my own grandmother, also 92, was admitted to hospice.  Every day I deal with the conflicting emotions of being anxious to check my email and hear from my family in the U.S. and dreading what I may find when I do.  My daughter learned yesterday that two of her dearest friends are leaving very soon, and she is heartbroken over it.  All of us experience losses and grief.    Sometimes I instinctively want to hide in my bed and refuse to deal with anyone or anything, even my friends and family.  When we lose someone who is a vital part of our life, nothing is ever the same again, but the ones we still have with us are gifts from God for right now.  Right now He is with me.  Right now my family needs me.  Right now I am preparing to have NEW friends come for dinner and fellowship before their long journey home.  Right now there are people who are important to me whom I can serve, pray for, and love.  And equally important is the fact that they want to do the same for me.   It's OK to take some time alone, I think.  But if I withdraw from those who care about me, including my Savior, when I am hurt, I am shunning the very thing I need most.

Daniel's Bottle Bucket Battle

   Raising children in a developing nation is risky, albeit adventurous.  I knew that before we came, but it isn't something one tends to think about until an event occurs which gives you a startling reminder.  Saturday evening, Daniel dropped a bottle of Coke and it shattered.  Several shards nicked his feet and legs, but one larger piece of glass bounced off the floor and cut his leg pretty deeply.  We could see his bone.  Our first thought was to call a missionary we know who is a nurse, only to discover she had gone to the interior and couldn't be reached.  We had no choice but to take him to a clinic here and hope for the best. Traffic was terrible.  Sometimes when we are driving here I am reminded of a Discovery Toys Rush Hour game my kids used to have with a bunch of cars and trucks, all facing different directions, touching one another and unable to move.  Add loud honking, dozens of pedestrians weaving in and out the best they can, a complete lack of street lights, people shouting, and exhaust fumes and that's what it looked like Saturday evening.  Daniel was bleeding a lot and I had him in the back seat with his leg propped up while I held the wound shut,  and while we were stuck in traffic, his leg just spontaneously stopped bleeding and didn't bleed again until he was safe in the clinic being examined. (We didn't know it yet, but thanks to Emily and Facebook, lots and lots of friends were already praying for Daniel and God was answering!) Finally a hole just big enough to turn our jeep around opened up and we retraced our steps and went "the back way" to the clinic.  There was a nurse outside the clinic who took one look at David carrying Daniel with his bloody legs and feet and took charge, opening doors and escorting us past triage and reception, straight to the exam room.  By the time I walked up to the reception desk to let them know Daniel was there and give them our names and address, he had been seen by the doctor, had his wound cleaned, and was waiting for stitches.  While they were very careful to use sterile instruments and keep the wound clean, there were definite points of observation that reminded us we weren't in the U.S.
     * the language barrier - They kept asking us questions in Lingala, then switching to French, and in our stress we had some difficulty thinking in French.
     * the insects on the walls
     * the stack of grotesquely filthy leg and arm braces in the corner, presumably waiting to be reused
     * no bright red bio-hazard box - the needles they used to give Lidocaine to Daniel were new and sterile, but once used they just went into the garbage bag with all the other bloody gauze and trash
     * the mercurochrome - they used lots of it on all of Daniel's smaller cuts, even on his old bug bites.  He has big pink spots all over his legs, front and back.  They were so generous with it I started to wonder if we were getting charged by the ounce (that's a joke, folks).  Though I remember mercurachrome from my childhood, I'm pretty sure it is not used in the U.S. any more because it actually contains mercury.  Nice.
     * I had 8 stitches in each incision when I had my foot surgery.  Daniels wound was about the same width, possibly wider, and he got four.  We got some steri-strips from a friend to "close the gaps."
     * no follow up instructions regarding things like when he can bathe, how long to leave the stitches in, etc.  We know we have to keep it clean and dry.  We have plenty of missionary friends here who are in the medical field so we'll rely on them for help and guidance.

     While God was showing Himself to us; getting us through traffic, getting rapid treatment for Daniel, and keeping him from losing too much blood, keeping him amazingly calm, He also showed Himself to Emily that night.  As we were leaving the house for the clinic, I asked Emily to get on the internet and tell our friends to pray because Daniel was bleeding a lot and I knew traffic would be bad and I didn't know what type of care we would get at the clinic.   As soon as they heard, a couple on our team, the Freys, dropped everything and came to be with Emily.  Instead of finding an anxious daughter when we arrived home, we found Emily, Jocelyn, and Nick watching a movie together.  The glass, soda and blood were all cleaned up.  They had brought their supper with them and fed Emily and even had a cupcake waiting for Daniel.  I am so grateful that in this challenging place God has given us friends whose value can't be measured.  We had other friends who were praying for us, helping us with medical advice, giving us antibiotics from their own supplies because the pharmacies were closed, even offering to come get us and take us to the clinic.

    As we were preparing to leave the clinic, Daniel said "well now I can mark that off my bucket list."  We asked him if he seriously had getting hurt and receiving medical treatment in a third world clinic on his bucket list and he said "yes, I did."  What kind of ten year old has a bucket list?  And what kind of ten year old has THAT on his list?  When I asked Daniel's big brother those questions his reply was "a cool one!"  I tend to agree with both Josh and with another friend who said we need to talk to Daniel about working on a safer bucket list.

It Matters To Them

     Friday, Myndii went with us to the orphanage in Kimbondo. It was our first trip back since the elections and I really missed the kids. They must have missed us too because we received a very enthusiastic welcome. There is a definite language barrier sometimes because the little ones that haven't been to school yet only speak Lingala and I only speak Frenglish, but they don't care. Some things are universal: smiles, hugs, silly faces, singing.
     In the building where the babies are kept we found this little one.

She was extremely thin and about the size of a six month old baby, but is apparently much older because she has almost all of her teeth, including molars. Her skin just hung on her. I was afraid to even try to pick her up at first, but I got to hold her for a good long while and pray for her. There were several other little ones in the room, all tiny for their ages and all much more frail than the other kids in the orphanage. When the doctor came in, I asked him if those children were sick. He explained that they have over 200 children with AIDS. I'm not sure if he meant that all those babies have AIDS or not. It was while we were in this room that another worker told us that one of the other children had died just that morning. He had severe hydrocephaly that had worsened since I met him last summer to the point where he was bed-ridden. They had made arrangements for him to be flown out of country for surgery but he didn't make it. Had he been able to stand on his own, I think he would not have been as tall as my ten year old. He had to be suffering, but every time I saw him, he had a smile for me. It is heartbreaking that he died, but I know he is with Jesus and will not have any more reasons to cry, ever. I am grateful that of all the orphanages here, he was placed in this one, because I have heard so many horror stories about the others.
     Someone recently asked me what I do when I go to the orphanage. I lamely offered that sometimes I help with dressing the kids after a bath or feeding babies but I mostly just hold babies and play with kids. It didn't sound all that important to me. I thought about all the needs there and my contribution seemed small indeed. But somehow God keeps prompting me to return and give more hugs and kiss more little heads and so I keep going. When I see their little faces light up and hear their giggles, I know it matters to them that I came.

So I've learned that if you can smile...

                                   if you have a lap...or just really strange hair...

                                                          if you can play...

                                                          you can make a difference.

Sewing in the Congo: making stuff out of stuff

     During our Christmas break from home schooling, I managed to do a little sewing.  I took some curtains and sheets and made, well, curtains and sheets.  I bought some curtains from a departing friend a few months ago and had not managed to get them hung anywhere.  They are the kind that has large eyelets at the top.  In the states I would just run to Wal-mart or Home Depot and get the hardware for hanging that type of curtain.  Not an option here.  My mom sent me some lime green ribbon and thread for Christmas by way of Josh, so I turned the curtains upside-down and sewed the goofy European-style whatever-you-call-it (seriously, I have no idea what it is called) onto the new top to make it compatible with the tracks/hooks system thingy (sorry, don't know the name of that either) already installed in the house.  Then I ran the ribbon through the eyelets, wrapped the ends around to the back, and tacked it down.  We really like it. The curtains weren't wide enough for the window so I made a center panel out of a white sheet. 

I also fixed a fitted sheet for my bed. We foolishly packed queen size sheets for our bed when we came here. I don't think anyone here has a queen sized bed unless they shipped it over from the U.S. MAF loaned us a "Congo-king" size bed when we first arrived. The mattress was made locally out of foam, so I was able to roll it and stuff it into my too-small sheets.  The flexibility of the foam combined with the really snug sheets in such a way that when we got into bed each night the mattress enveloped us like a hotdog bun and cooked us in our own body heat.  (no comments about pigs in a blanket, please)  It also made getting out of bed an interesting challenge in the mornings, sort of like the commercials where the little old lady says "help, I've fallen and I can't get up!"  We eventually bought a bed from some other departing friends. (Do you see the trend here? If no one ever left this place we wouldn't have anything in our house!) It's a California King from the states and my sheets were not going to stretch that far. So, when I had the chance to buy some king-sized sheets from my friend who sold me the curtains, I grabbed it. I took a strip off the top sheet and rehemmed it. Then I added the strip into the fitted sheet, near the bottom so it wouldn't show when the bed was made. I didn't have any instructions and had to "wing it" so the project took a lot longer than I wanted it to, but we have a fitted sheet now that doesn't have to be tucked back under the mattress every morning. Yaaay!
AND...I finally finished scrapping my Christmas photos. FROM 1993! I made one layout and reused it for the sake of expediency. I had a ton of photos because that was Josh's first Christmas and everyone has a bajillion photos of the first baby. (I'm really, really sorry, middle and youngest children.)

This past Christmas while Josh was here I took unusually good photos. I do that about once every five years. Then I took my memory card out of my camera so we could put one of the photos on Facebook for Josh. Now we can't find the memory card and that one photo is all I have from Christmas day. So, since the photos I took a couple days after Christmas can't tell the whole story, we had a great day.

Josh even blogged a little about it. He is a contributing writer on a blog for TCK's - third culture kids. You can see the wonderful sweet things he said about his family HERE.  I think I might go read it a few more times.

How Many Christians Are In The Congo?

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     Demographics reports are not exactly my favorite reading material, but a recent project published last month by the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life caught my eye due to it's mention of the Democratic Republic of Congo. According to the Pew Forum:

     97.5% of the population in Democratic Republic of Congo is Christian - Oh, really?
  
     Only one of the ten countries in North and South America included in the report has a lower percentage of Christians in its population than the U.S. - Canada.

     79.5% of the U.S. population is Christian. - Wait, that's lower than the DRC!

     If these figures are true, my first thought was "What am I doing in Africa?"  However, it is not up to me to decide where I serve God.  That is His decision and I trust His sovereignty.  We do have to keep in mind that this report is about "people calling themselves Christians," and includes a plethora of denominations.   Did everyone in the study who called themselves Christians actually think about or understand what it means to be a Christian before they answered?  In many cultures, if you ask someone a direct question, they will give the answer they believe you want, whether or not it is the truth.  Is everyone who is on a church roll a Christian?  I've been in the Congo for 15 months now, and I can't count the Christians but I can say my personal observations don't come anywhere near to meshing with the figures in this report.   While many people here attend church, some of these "churches" teach witchcraft, magic and superstition with some gospel thrown into the mix.  What saddens me is the thought that missions organizations might use a report like this to determine where their missionaries are or are not needed. 
    
    You can find an article by The Weekend Telegram that gives a brief overview of the report HERE. The entire report is available on the Pew Forum website HERE.  Let me know what you think.  Are the numbers inflated or do you believe they are accurate? 

If My Life Is A Prayer, What Am I Saying With It?

We said goodbye to Josh with aching hearts today and sent him on his way back to the states. This being his freshman year, we are all new at this still. It is healthy and normal for children to grow up and leave the nest. So if it's a good thing, why does it hurt so much? I hate goodbyes. Instead of focusing on how much we miss him, I'm trying to be positive and look forward to the next hello.
That's easier said than done because I’ve always been a “glass half empty” kind of gal. If I were a Pooh character, I would occasionally be Tigger but more often I would be Eeyore. If I were a Narnian, my friends would know me as Puddleglum (so I've been told). I’ve always thought First Thessalonians 5:18 was a mega challenge. I often made excuses that the world needs us “glass half empty” people to keep the “glass half full” people in touch with reality. Perhaps in one sense it is true that God has given us all different personalities and ways of seeing things in order for us all to balance each other and work together. It is also true though, that giving thanks in all circumstances is God’s will. Giving excuses is not. Circumstances are external and we experience them with all 5 senses, so it is easy to focus on them. It takes more effort to look beyond. Crumbs on the table and floor are so much more than a mess to clean. They are tangible signs of God’s blessing and provision. Goodbyes are painful, but only because of the precious relationship God has given us with the other person. I might not be able to do laundry for a day or two while I wait for water, but God has never let us go thirsty. God has willed for us to rejoice, to pray continually, and to be thankful. In addition to bringing Him glory, it is for our own good. I've noticed that if I try to leave one out, all of them become more difficult. God has given me salvation and the promise of his constant presence. Even if those are the only reasons some days that I can think of to rejoice and be thankful, they are always there. Keith Green sang a song that went like this: “Make my life a prayer to you.…” If my actions and speech are reflections of what is in my heart, then my life is like a prayer. Every parent knows that sometimes a child says one thing with his mouth and something entirely different with his actions or body language. I wish I could say that with my “life-prayers” I am always saying the same things to God and showing Him the same attitude that I am with my “lip-prayers.” Dear Father, I don't want my spoken prayers to be just lip service. I want my actions as well as my speech to say "I love You, I need You, I surrender to You, and Thank You!"

I'd Rather Have a Super Power!

I woke at 3am last Tuesday with a migraine. That’s not unusual, but thankfully, I’ve learned some of my triggers and don’t get them as frequently as I used to. Migraines are yucky. Recently, mine have developed a nasty new habit of commencing during the night while I sleep and waking me up. Ever notice that any type of pain seems magnified, and time passes more slowly, at night when anyone who might take pity on you is asleep and unaware of your plight? Anyway, when I felt better I researched migraines on the internet. I wanted to know whether this newest symptom was something common to many migraine sufferers or if it was just another of my own unique quirks. I learned it is fairly common. Most of the articles I found also claimed that “migraine disease” (they really do call it that, go figure) is a genetic neurological disorder. Since no one else in my immediate family suffers migraines, I guess this means I am the genetic mutant in the clan. Sort of like the X-men, only instead of a cool superpower I get migraines. I’d much rather have a superpower. Who wouldn’t? At least I am blessed with a super family that is very sympathetic and helpful when I get a migraine. They know I need to be in a dark, cool, quiet place. They know motion makes it worse so they bring me ice packs and drinks. The kids manage the home for me until I feel better, usually by graciously saving the dirty laundry and dishes for me. Somehow that doesn’t have the same effect as when someone saves me a seat next to them, or a piece of pie.
Just as physical migraines incapacitate us, so do spiritual migraines. Some of my migraines occur because I have not been taking care of myself and paying attention to things that trigger them. If I skip meals, allow myself to become dehydrated, eat something I know from past experience will cause me pain, or get too hot (so I moved to Africa), I will get a migraine. It is best to avoid any known triggers altogether. We have spiritual "triggers" as well. We have to feed and meditate on God’s Word and pray. We have to learn from our experiences and not repeat our mistakes. We have to make time for spiritual rest and renewal. If we allow ourselves to constantly run on empty, we could be setting ourselves up for a spiritual migraine.

How Missionaries Really Want to Travel

I hope you had a very merry Christmas! We did! The power went out for several hours, but we didn't let it ruin our fun. We read the Bible together, gave our gifts to eachother, called family, and watched movies. David loved the rug I made for him and Josh loved the sock monkey. If you don't know what I'm talking about you can see photos HERE. It was so nice just to be together! I am going to be a mess when Josh goes back to college, I can see it now.

There are very few advantages that I've found thus far to having my first-born attending college 6,000 (not a typo, it's really that far) miles away. With no dishwasher and a washing machine roughly the size of a blender, it is a plus that we have fewer dirty dishes and less laundry. Possibly the biggest advantage, and still not big enough to outweigh how much we miss him, is that when he came to visit for Christmas he was able to bring us stuff we can't get here - like Christmas presents! We were able to shop online and have items sent to Josh. Josh then became the Burton version of Santa, flying Brussels Airlines instead of a sleigh, and carrying suitcases instead of a magical weightless and bottomless red bag. But wait! What if I could find a magical weightless and bottomless bag? I would be willing to pay a fortune for one! Imagine the possibilities! Missionaries and other world travelers would line up to buy them like people waiting for the stores to open on Black Friday. Anyway, David bought "The Pioneer Woman Cooks!", by Ree Drummond. Then Santa - I mean Josh - brought it to me. I love this book! Nevermind that I can't get all the ingredients here for all the recipes - I can definitely get some of them. I really enjoy her writing style and she wrote her cookbook in much the same style that she uses on her blog. Just a few days ago I read her post "All I Wanted Was A Doughnut". Oh! How I miss doughnuts! If I just had a weightless, bottomless bag I could bring a whole term's worth of doughnuts back with me every furlough. I could bring enough doughnuts back to give one to every cop in Kinshasa. Gasp! I read Ree's story aloud to my family because I thought they would enjoy it. They did enjoy it, but after I finished reading it my youngest asked "What is a doughnut case?" I never, ever, ever, thought in a million years that one of MY children would not know what a convenience store doughnut case is. I shall remedy this when we go on furlough in 2013, and I shall do it well. Read Ree's doughnut post to end your year with a smile!
Happy New Year!

A Pastor Explains Poverty Theology

My friend Marcia from Little Pink Rose (see link in sidebar in blogs I enjoy) shared an article with me that really hit home. The author, Pastor Mark Driscoll, wrote a parable of "poverty theology." He explains it much better than I could so I hope you'll read his post. I have been guilty of this type of theology and I believe missionaries in general are especially susceptible to this temptation. Most of us have to raise ministry support in order to stay on the field. We feel a deep responsibility to our supporters to be good stewards. The trap is in worrying about what others will think of us and what we have or don't have instead of thanking God for all we have. James 1:16-18 says "Don’t be deceived, my dear brothers and sisters. Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." He owns the cattle on a thousand hills. While He uses people to support our ministry, the support is from Him. We are not the only missionaries who have lost supporters. We know that we are not here in our own strength and each member of our team is crucial. Losing even one is significant. Pray for your missionaries, that they will not fall into a trap of living in fear of the opinions and actions of others. Pray that they will not be prideful or prejudge others, but that they will enjoy all that God gives them and trust Him to meet their needs. Pray for those who are the backbone of missions: the prayer partners and the financial supporters. Thank God for their sacrifices and ask Him to bless them and meet their needs, known and unknown! I do. You can read Pastor Driscoll's post HERE.

Cookies Worth Blogging About - Seriously!

Some time ago, long enough ago for me to forget who my wonderful benefactor was, someone gave me a bag of Heath toffee bits. I went googling for recipes that use toffee chips and found a recipe called "Nancy's Decadent Heath Bar Cookies." Well, if you were browsing recipes and found one that had both your name and the word "decadent" in the title, wouldn't YOU feel compelled to try it? I sure did. These babies are amazing! And - when people try them and ask what they are called, I get to truthfully call them "Nancy's Decadent Heath Bar Cookies" - hee hee. She doesn't say when to add the butter so I added it with the shortening. Her recipe calls for 12oz of chocolate chips, but after measuring I had about 1/3 cup left over so I just dumped them in. She also calls for 6oz of toffee chips. I had an 8oz bag. Knowing that 2oz is not enough for another batch of cookies, I dumped it all in. I had pecans so that is what I used for the nuts. I did have a lot of trouble with the cookies sticking to the pan (possibly too many chocolate and toffee chips? nah!). I tried letting them cool for different lengths of time, spraying the pan, etc but they stuck every time. I didn't want to try her foil trick because I was afraid I would end up with little pieces of foil stuck to the cookies. The foil here in Congo is tissue thin and doesn't really have a "shiny" side. Finally in exasperation, and after making myself sick from eating all the broken cookies that stuck to the pans, I tried the foil. It is imperative that you use the foil! It makes a world of difference. To view the recipe click THIS.

Something Old, Something New, Something Baked, Something Blue

Something Old:
Over a year ago I was shopping and found fabric with a snowflake pattern, in Africa, so I bought some with the intention of making a wrap skirt. Finally, I have gotten around to actually doing it. Red and yellow are kinda strange colors for a snowflake theme, but then again, this is Congo.

Something New:
When I asked my oldest if there was anything special he wanted for Christmas, I told him to keep in mind that I can't just run to Walmart or the mall to buy things. He asked for "a sock monkey with a rasta hat." Ok. Sure. I happened to have the socks leftover from one of Emily's school projects. I begged yarn off my friends and went to work to make a monkey with dreadlocks. The rasta hat is made from a black sock and I stitched it with yarn to make the stripes. I hope I never have to make a sock doll with hair ever again, but I don't think this one turned out too bad. Hopefully Josh will like it. Don't tell him I posted this on my blog. He's been instructed not to look until after Christmas.

Something Baked:
I baked cookies this past week to contribute to gift bags for our national staff and decided to take the rest to the commercial center in my neighborhood, along with some tracts, and give them out. I invited my friend Myndii to come along and she made up a plate of cookies for the police station. (The police station is really a metal shipping container about the size of a short train boxcar, used as headquarters and office for a small group of police officers.) We took our wares down on Thursday and were greeted warmly by the police officer and his friends, who gave up their chairs and invited us to join them in conversation for a few minutes. We made sure to give treats to Papa Joseph, Mama Lily, Papa Kabuya, Titi and TonTon - people we conduct business with regularly, then passed out goodies to everyone we could until it was gone. Sadly, there were more people who wanted one of my gifts than I could have prepared for. Pray that the gospel tracts and the gestures of Christian love are well-received and that the seeds grow.

Something Blue:
I purchased some curtains from friends of ours who were leaving Kinshasa. David really liked the blue in the fabric, so after adding a strip to the bottom of one set to make them long enough, they were hung in our bedroom. I had a bunch of the matching fabric left over so for a Christmas gift I made a "toothbrush rug" for David. Don't tell him you saw this until after Christmas either. Now my kids want me to make rugs for them. It's so easy I think I might let them make their own. If you are interested in making your own, I learned how to do it using instructions from this website: toothbrush rugs.

Why I'm Glad I'm in Congo for Christmas

Even when it isn’t in the throes of post-election mayhem, Congo is ranked near the top of the list of the world’s worst places to live. The cost of living is outrageous. Corruption abounds. It is a violent and unstable place. The infant mortality rate is high and the average life span is low compared to other nations. During the Christmas season, there is no snow. No parades. No Salvation Army bell ringers. No Christmas songs playing on the radio or over PA systems in the malls (no malls either), no decorated lawns or lights on the houses. No Charlie Brown Christmas special(I should have bought the dvd). Shopping for gifts is an exercise in futility and frustration. Toys and games are outrageously priced, mostly in other languages, and if electronic, zoned for European-made devices, not the American devices we brought here with us. A bag of m&m’s for a stocking stuffer costs $15 or more. Maybe the stores will have turkeys, but maybe not.
So what’s a family to do in Congo at Christmas? Without all the trappings and hoo-ha, we find ourselves having a lot more time and a lot more space in our thought lives to actually focus on what really matters: the incredible love that moved the God of creation to send his Son for the likes of us. We’ve learned not to take even going to church or having fellowship with friends for granted. We’ve simplified our expectations and our desires. We’ve become more grateful and less greedy. We are more keenly aware of how deeply the Savior loves us and how blessed we are. It’s a change I am not sure would have happened if our family had never come to Congo, but one that as a Christian wife and mom I am extremely happy to have observed and been part of. I struggled our first Christmas here as I learned to let go of the way I thought Christmas should be observed and open my hands to receive the Christmas God wanted to give me. My kids displayed just as much excitement and gratitude over the simple things we gave them and our little second-hand crooked tree as they used to show over more lavish gifts and fancier decor. We wished our Congolese friends a "joyeux Noël." We went to church and sang about the Son who came for all mankind with people from many different nations, including Congo – a little taste of heaven.
A Little Bit of News:
Last Sunday our oldest son arrived safely from the U.S. all in one piece and his luggage arrived Wednesday. We are extremely grateful to be reunited for two weeks and are enjoying every minute! Thanks for all your prayers for his travels!

Jesus Under the Stove (and other unusual places)

Photo: Nancy Burton coolbeans3.blogspot.com

I was able to go to the United States for Thanksgiving to visit our college aged daughter and see most of my family. We had a nice visit but OH! The trip back was so LONG and exhausting. It took me a while to get back in the groove after the time change and with all the emotions of missing my mom. Holidays won't ever be the same without her, although I do have hope that they can be good. David, Daniel and I are having a quiet family Christmas this year. Missing mom has made us more sentimental, resulting in us doing things we don't normally do here because old traditions are either very expensive or near impossible to keep here. We splurged on a new little tree. Our ancient missionary hand me down tree bit the dust last year. I brought back pumpkin from the states so there will be pumpkin pie. We bit the dust and paid the outrageous amount for a real turkey instead of the usual chicken. I used up my chocolate chip horde and baked cookies to give away. All totally worth it.

When I first wrote this blog post on Dec 18, 2011, my mom told me she really liked it, which made it a favorite of mine. I've blown the dust and cobwebs off and revised it a bit for you:

I don’t understand why, because it is often always the messiest room in the house, but our kitchen is a people magnet. Often when I am cooking, other members of the family will come in and talk to me. So we were all in the kitchen together last night when we noticed David on his hands and knees looking beneath the stove. Conversations and activities ceased as we all stared until he noticed and responded.
“I’m looking for Jesus.”
“I’m pretty sure you won’t find Him under the stove.” This was followed by much laughter.
Minutes later:
“I found Jesus under the printer.”
“Didn’t I tell you He wasn’t under the stove?” More laughter.
“He was just as likely to be under the stove as under the printer.”
“I guess you have a point there.” 

My husband was searching for Jesus in bizarre places because our cats held a soccer game while we slept during the night and scattered the pieces of Emily’s nativity scene all over the house. The other pieces were found quickly but we couldn’t find Jesus, the most important figure. Once He was found, everyone was happy. Like our cats, we humans tend to make a real mess of things. We sometimes lose sight of what the most important things are in our lives. Our nativity Jesus was never truly gone, we just couldn’t see Him because He had been moved from his place of prominence to a dark and dusty corner. I don’t want to relegate Jesus to a dark and dusty corner of my life. I want Him to be the absolute center, the focal point no matter what angle anyone sees me from so that they are shown the way to Him. And I am so, so grateful that even when I fall and lose sight of Him, He is still there.

I hope this Christmas and always that He is in a place of prominence in your heart and life.

Merry Christmas!

image created using "One Night in Bethlehem" kit by Janniscrap Designs

Food for the Stomach and for the Spirit, Times Two

One interesting difference between the cultures here and in the U.S. is the way people react when you offer them a gospel tract. I found some French and Lingala versions of the Four Spiritual Laws tracts at a Bible store downtown and while I was grocery shopping yesterday with friends, we passed one of them out the car window to a police officer who was directing traffic. He accepted it, looked into our vehicle at all the bags of food and candidly remarked that he wished he could have one of the loaves of bread. We gave him some money to buy bread for himself and his partner and told him thank you for working hard to keep the city safe. The other officer then asked us if he could have a tract of his own. We gladly gave him one. I've been told that this is a very common response. Never in the U.S. has anyone asked me for a tract. Often people didn't want them and told me so either politely or otherwise.
Today our entire team, both U.S. staff and national staff, held an outreach event at the airport. Planes were moved out of the hangar to make room for chairs and a sound system. We shared a little bit about MAF, sang in English, French and Lingala, and had a Christmas worship service. The key speaker was Fideline, who is a local pastor and the wife of Maurice, one of our national staff members. God has blessed one of our MAF wives, Sandy Francis, with amazing musical talent. She sang Jesu Bambino/O Holy Night in English and French and nearly brought the house down. It is a real treat both to hear her sing and to hear Congolese singing praises in Lingala. Several people responded to the invitation to pray and receive Christ. Everyone was given tracts, Bibles, and refreshments. Hopefully they all went home both spiritually and physically fed.
Please pray for the two officers, and those who came today. Many of them requested extra tracts. Who can say how many others might receive one? Pray the seeds will grow! Also, even though the supreme court confirmed Kabila yesterday as the winner of the election amid some controversy, things are calm here so far and we are grateful. Pray for Josh - in just a couple of hours he boards a plane to come visit us!

10 Reasons to Dislike Secret Santas

I don't care for secret santa games. In fact I don't care for any games other than the kind where everyone sits around a table and uses a board with "little men" or a deck of cards. "Ice breaker" is a phrase that instills horror and dread for me. But I always participate because I feel like a Scrooge if I don't. With the exception of my spouse, I always thought I was odd for feeling that way, until my friend TJ wrote about it on her blog and listed all the same reasons I have had in the past, at one time or another, for not liking secret santas. Now, to be fair, I must share that last year our ladies Bible study group did a "secret sister" activity that lasted several weeks. We filled out detailed surveys first, which went to everyone in the group. No matter whose name you drew, you got to read everyone's survey and we all got to know each other better. The surveys covered favorite colors, songs, Scriptures, snacks, etc; names of family members, and prayer requests. The goal was not just giving but praying, and we all were blessed by it, including me. I still groan on the inside when people start talking about secret santas, but I recognize that it can be done in a way that truly blesses someone. To see TJ's list click the link below.

TJ's Musing: 10 Reasons Why I Hate Secret Santas

The Right Place at the Right Time

Election results that were due last Tuesday were finally announced yesterday afternoon (Friday). President Kabila has been re-elected. I heard there were some violent confrontations in Kinshasa, mostly downtown and near the airport, but our neighborhood has been calm. Everyone is staying close to home for a while. We aren’t a target or anything, but we don’t want to be caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I imagine a lot of people think being in Congo at all right now is being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But there are a number of God’s people here, including us, who believe we are in the right place at the right time simply because we are where He put us. I’m not presuming to say we are “God’s gift to Congo,” but perhaps Congo is God’s gift to us. I pray He will use me here to make an impact in someone’s life and bring glory to Him, but I know He is using Congo to make an impact in my life. Several weeks ago I was reading in the Psalms and when I came to Psalm 146 I felt a heavy burden for the people here in the Democratic Republic of Congo, and also for the people of my own country. Verses 7-10 say: “He upholds the cause of the oppressed and gives food to the hungry. The LORD sets prisoners free, the LORD gives sight to the blind, the LORD lifts up those who are bowed down, the LORD loves the righteous. The LORD watches over the alien and sustains the fatherless and the widow, but he frustrates the ways of the wicked. The LORD reigns forever, your God, O Zion, for all generations. Praise the LORD.”
In addition to the oppression you can see here, there is spiritual oppression that you can’t see, but can sometimes feel. Nearly everyday I see hungry people and malnourished children. I am certain that there is oppression and hunger in the United States also, though on a different scale or manifest in different ways. But praise God! He sets prisoners free! He heals! He lifts up those who are bowed down! Widows here are treated abominably, especially by their own families. But our Father is watching over the widows and the orphans. And how desperately we need Him to frustrate the ways of the wicked as we end an election here and prepare for one in the U.S! Being a mechanic’s wife, I’ve heard many times how important it is to have the right tool for the right job and to have tools that are of a good quality. One of the best tools we have as believers is prayer. I’m praying these Scriptures for both the Congo and the U.S.

God Knows The Unknowns

For our family and friends who are concerned about us this election season, we are fine! We appreciate and still need your prayers for us and for this country. We are stocked up in case we have to "hunker down" and stay home for a few days, but so far things have been fairly calm in our neighborhood. The election results are supposed to be announnced today, but as of 6:00pm tonight we've heard no news. We finished putting up our Christmas tree today and I came home from my ladies' Bible study group to the sound of Christmas music. It's nice to have a feeling of normalcy and a praise song in my mind and heart to keep the tension and anxiety that is in the air here from constantly preoccupying me and affecting my perspective, even my ability to make decisions. It's even nicer when our whole family is doing it together. We sure do miss Joshua though.
My friend TJ recently shared her own struggles with decision making based on God's plan versus people and circumstances around her. She wrote that she had decided to say "yes" to God in spite of the unknowns, trusting that God has a plan and is going to take care of all of those unknowns. You can read her entire article HERE.

Treasuring Trash and Trashing Treasure?

Praise God! We have a transformer! And we’ve been having power at least part of each day! Ironically, even though we had zero power for 11 days in November, when I received my bill on Thursday I noticed it is double the usual amount. This is Congo, after all. The elections results are not officially being announced until next week but already rumors are flying. Continue praying for God’s peace to reign here.

Because of the rumors and tension, I didn't get to go to the orphanage this week. Last week during our visit I went over to the Patrick House to say hello to the kids there. This is the building that houses the children with severe disabilities or with AIDS. When I arrived the foyer was empty and a staff member led us to a playroom. We were taken by surprise because this room was brightly painted. There were padded mats on the floors and colorful toys lining all the walls(This REALLY surprised us because we almost never see toys anywhere when we visit). The room was full of kids, some in wheel chairs but most of them were sitting or lying on the mats. We made a point to talk to as many as possible, though only one girl was able to reply to our questions. We just basically sat with them, held their hands or patted their shoulders, and even sang a few songs for them. It struck me that there were all these nice toys all around them, but none of the kids seemed to be interested in or even notice them. Most of them weren’t capable of actually getting to the toys, but even when I handed some blocks to one child, she rejected them because what she really wanted was my plastic grocery sack. Unbeknownst to her, all it contained was a couple of bottles of bubbles that had leaked their contents into the bag. On the same day, in the courtyard where the toddlers and preschoolers play, I saw a little guy playing with the lid part of a tomato paste can. Not wanting him to cut himself, I took it from him and threw it away. His response was to throw himself on the ground, screaming and crying in anger. I wonder how often God has incredibly good gifts for us but we instead spurn them in hopes of keeping our garbage or even grasping more garbage. How often we respond in anger when He acts to protect us or correct us. Or how often He has surrounded us with signs of his love, creativity and power but we just don’t have our eyes open to see them. Praying we all go through this week with our spiritual eyes wide open and our hearts eager to receive all He wants to give us!

Stinky Pie

We are eagerly looking forward to Christmas break when Josh comes to visit! In the meantime, kids at Emily’s school are getting a two-day break next week due to the elections. We are hoping and praying that all will go well and kids all over Kinshasa will be attending school with safety and confidence on Wednesday. The newest rumor is that we will get a transformer no later than Monday. I’m not sure how the power company will pull that off on election day but I’m trying to be optimistic. I know two things for certain regarding the elections, electricity, and everything thing else here in Kinshasa. First, there are always rumors. Second, there are lots of people praying here and around the world! Yesterday some of us met to pray and my friend Deborah shared Psalm 4:6-8. "Many are asking, "Who can show us any good? Let the light of your face shine upon us, O LORD. You have filled my heart with greater joy than when their grain and new wine abound. I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety."
Thanksgiving Day we joined several other missionary families for a feast and a time of praising God. Hearing others tell stories of things God has done for them is always encouraging and exciting. Since we still have no electricity, I searched the internet and found a recipe for “no-bake pumpkin pie” that I could make on the gas stove and decided to try it. Pumpkin is not available here so I used a local squash that looks and tastes a lot like pumpkin. I made some whipped topping and added it in order to make my pie prettier. Here, whipped topping is called KlopKlop, which I think is funny – makes me think of horses walking on pavement. I used mini-chocolate chips to make a “P”, then decided someone might mistake the pumpkin pie for pecan pie, and added a “u.” The result: my pie was labeled “Pu”, as in “peeyew”. Oh well. There was none left, so I guess it wasn’t too bad, and I’ve included the recipe below. If you click on the photo it will enlarge so you can more easily read it.