#experiencemission

[masstoafrica1-blog]

Three Months Is a Long Time

​I remember how I first got here. I had been awake for 2 days, and flying since midnight. I was so exhausted when I bought my ticket three days before that I had spent hours mapping out bus routes before realizing I could order an Uber for less. I was excited to find that my driver was from Ethiopia, and happily chatted on the way, ignoring the restless thoughts inside my head. We arrived, and in one practiced movement I swung my huge backpack onto one shoulder, adjusted my carry-on and my blanket, and moved to the sidewalk. I looked around at the small campus, yet one more unfamiliar sight I would get used to in the weeks to come. I took a deep breath, walked towards the only people in sight with full confidence that I had no clue what I was doing. They offered to help with the rest of my luggage, and were shocked when I told them this was all I had. Three hours later, I climbed into a creaky bunkbed, fully exhausted, but sure that God had brought me here, and glad of his control.

​I rested in that knowledge for the next 2 months after arriving here at Bethany Global University. God’s hand was clear in bringing me here, and even now I know it was him. I mean, who else could have brought me out here to the middle of Minnesota to go back to school? It wasn’t exactly on my bucket list. Until August, I had no plans for my immediate future, and my long term goal was to somehow get onto the mission field. Despite this, I was getting a little tired of telling people I didn’t know what I was going to do, and I wasn’t getting any answers when I asked God the same questions. So when a teammate told me about this college that offered a degree in missions, including 16 months of actual overseas experience while studying, I jumped at the idea. Within three days, I had applied, and began preparing to leave my home yet again. A week after I had first heard about it, I had already packed up my entire life into my backpack and a couple boxes to hopefully be sent later on, and left my home once more. Within ten days I received an emailed acceptance letter, finished the paperwork, and bought a new plane ticket which meant I would fly straight out of Boston instead of going home from Canada. My excitement equaled my exhaustion, and both would soon catch up with me.

​My sleep was quickly made up, although it has since been slowly draining from late-night papers and morning shifts, and my excitement levelled out soon enough. From August to October, things were great. The floor I live on spends a lot of quality time in the lounge, and we all genuinely look out for each other. We even have a floor pet, a beta fish named Mansheet. The work study has me in the kitchen again, and I couldn’t be happier with my classmates. The school as a whole is built around community in Christ, learning and growing together, intentionally getting to know each other and reachingthe world one day. My classes were, and are, interesting and relatable to my limited knowledge of the field, as well as challenging. I actually am doing my assignments, a huge change from the last time I was in school, meaning this time I will pass all of my courses, and I haven’t watched any movies in a month;I don’t have time for them anyway.

​All of these things are clearly God’s handiwork, and I am so glad that he’s brought me here, but it hasn’t been easy. My schedule is packed, and it will be even more so as I continue to pursue a job outside of school. Though there is a great community here as a whole and in several smaller groups I am in, I still miss my team, and I miss Africa and its people. Many times I am overwhelmed with a strong desire to go to the nationsright now, whether that’s to somewhere new or to a place more familiar. I cannot tell you how many times I have fallen asleep with tears in my eyes because all of these things have struck meat once, and I can’t move. So often I question God why he has given me a love for people when it seems like I can’t do anything about it. Why must I sit in a classroom, instead of planting endless amounts of beans with local farmers, or grading papers to ease the load of the teachers, or talking with teenagers about how Christ actually cares about their lives?

​A lesson I continuously have to learn is that love knows no bounds. The love God has given me for people is not, and cannot, be limited to specific people. This does not mean that I stop loving them, far from it. It means that I continue to love, and love others the way that I have loved them. Love comes in many forms. Sometimes it’s by allowing them to buy me coffee unexpectedly, talking for hours on end, playing games and watching movies, or just laughing through the night. Sometimes it’s harder to do, like allowing them to teach me lessons and push my boundaries, finding the words to say things I am afraid to utter, or picking up the phone and calling, even though I know I’ll be both encouraged and home-sick when I hang up. One day though, it will be better. I’ll be able to talk about my team and the love we shared, I’ll realize that I have this same love with the people around me and those back home, and I’ll knowbeyond any doubt that God, perfect and eternal, has done the unimaginable. He has transformed me into a better reflection of him, his all-surpassing and incomprehensibly loving self, imperfect yet beautiful because of him.

​So, all of that to say, things are going well. Difficult at times, as life can be, but good. I am not in a random country, just in Minnesota at college, following God’s call on my life. I do not know when I will be home, but I do know when I am available to talk. Hit me up with an email or a PM on Facebook, I’ll be glad to talk to you. Happy Thanksgiving, and God bless!

[masstoafrica1-blog]

Wrapping Up Namibia (A Long Time Coming)

Hi all! It’s been some time since I last posted about my confusion in Namibia. A lot has happened since then. As many of you know, I’m home, and have been for just over a month and a half. If we haven’t talked since, I would love to! Just shoot me an email or message me on Facebook. Our team finished out Namibia each in our own way, having the opportunity to choose where we invested in the community and how we ministered, giving us a taste of what life might be like at home. Some of us went to the small Himba market near the beach, some to the larger market next door, some to coffee shops, and some to strangers on the street. Most did a combination of these things, among others that I have forgotten at the moment. In our days and weeks at Swakopmund, we each made many friends, and met a great number of people, many of whom had great impacts on our lives. Although I could share multiple stories, three stand out in particular: Jen from the market, Manus the pastor, and the Lofty-Eatons. I met Jen once. My teammate and host-sister Erika introduced us. I had not really been down to either of the markets very much, because I was pretty nervous, and felt like I would get in the way more than anything. I had this image of me trying to talk to someone and instead scaring customers away and incurring the wrath of the people I wanted to be friends with! For a little bit, Erika also felt this way, but she was persuaded by our host-brother Eric, introducing her to Jen, who wanted someone to come and discuss the Bible with her. So one day I went with Erika, and we sat and talked with Jen and the owner of a neighboring stall who was also interested. We read a passage, and then talked about it, taking turns and sharing stories for about 2 hours, maybe more. I was still nervous, and didn’t say much, but I listened intently to what she had to say. She had a great amount of insight, and desired to learn as much as she could from everyone she met, knowing that she could pass it on, whether it was her own experience, a story from a stranger, or a verse she found a little extra meaningful. She shared several stories and things she had already learned, and encouraged each of us greatly to share our own. She wasn’t concerned about what we thought, believing firmly that Christ would work in our hearts regardless. Manus Olivier is our community partner in Swakopmund, and pastor of the church we worked with. It has been said that eventually as you get older you enter a second childhood. I don’t believe Manus ever left his childhood, at least not in his spirit. In addition to his crazy strength, Manus possesses an overwhelming, never-ending joy. He always has a smile on his face, and a wise (and funny) word to say. He consistently encouraged us to be open, and to connect with people, to make friends, because that is the basis of ministry, of life. And he always thanked us. Always. Even on days where we didn’t do much, and especially when I didn’t feel like I deserved to be thanked. He insisted that just being there, with them, willing and open, that that in itself made an impact, and did something. And he was grateful for it. Genuinely, incomparably, grateful, and happy that we were there. That was something that blew my mind, and it taught me a lesson I will never forget. In the church where Manus is a pastor, is a couple called the Lofty-Eatons. They, John and Hanlie, opened their home to not only Erika and I, who stayed there every weekend, but also to several other team members whenever their host-families were out of town. And from the moment they met us, we were family. Our home was their home, and not just because we were some poor homeless missionaries. They genuinely cared and welcomed us. Every weekend was different in so many ways, but every weekend we looked forward to going home to that house, to what truly felt like family. Coming from a close-knit, large family, I was beyond excited and relieved when that first night ended. Any and all doubts, nerves, anxiety, fears, homesickness, and anything else was swept away within 5 minutes of walking in. They laughed and joked with each other, and turned up the music as loud as they dared and danced around the kitchen while preparing supper. Their middle son and his fiancé (Martin and Jessica) came over as they do almost every day, and their “daughter who isn’t their daughter” (Lisa) living in the apartment around back also joined us, which resulted in even more laughs and wholesome conversation. We were included in the family jokes, traditions and news, and we were free to raid the fridge and sweets drawer. If we needed a nap, wanted to hang out, watch rugby, or just sit in our rooms and read, it was ok. We were now Lofty-Eatons. They understood that we, like everyone else, get tired, and hungry, and homesick. And they did everything in their power and more to make us as comfortable and welcomed and taken care of as possible. They wanted us to feel as at home as possible, knowing that we had been gone for months and still had a long way to go. And I am here to tell you that they succeeded. In that house, that home, I forgot that I was somewhere I had never been. I forgot that I was in a place where I maybe didn’t always belong, where I didn’t know even a quarter of the languages, where I knew nothing and nobody outside of the people I came with and worked with. I forgot, because none of those things mattered there. It didn’t matter that I didn’t speak their language, I could learn. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know anyone or anything, I knew them, and they would show me. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t from there or anything else, because there, with them, I belonged. And that is a terribly valuable thing wherever you are. Each portion of this trip has been life changing and eye opening. But perhaps the one that made the biggest impact, is Namibia. A lot of what happened there depended on what we chose to do with our time. Not to say that we kept to a strict planned schedule in every other place, far from it in fact. But the difference in this case is simply that we had the immense (terrifying) freedom to do just about anything. And with that time, while I did take time to myself to regroup and pray and focus, I chose to invest in some relationships. Many I may never see or hear from again, but those that I still have contact with are cherished friends, and I pray dearly that I will be able to see them all again, and let them know just how much of a difference they have made in my life. Quick note before I end this post. This post has now wrapped up our time in Namibia. As of right now, I have 2 more posts planned, one to highlight the trip as a whole, and one to summarize what has happened (and will happen) now that I have been home. Be on the lookout for those, as they will be coming out within the next week or 2! Thank you all so much for your continued prayer and support throughout this journey, and for patiently reading my long posts. I really do appreciate it! Sincerely and truly yours in Christ, Melody Dole God bless!

[masstoafrica1-blog]

Almost Done

Purpose is a funny thing. Sometimes the purpose of something is clear from the start. Sometimes the outward purpose is known, but there is a hidden purpose unknown until it is finished. And still sometimes purpose seems elusive, unclear, hidden at all times. We have been here in Swakopmund, Namibia for over a month. Our time here in this country is almost up. Every step we've taken here has been full of obstacles and unanswered questions. Each time a purpose comes into view, the situation changes, and we are back to square one. Our first project was at Swakopmund Primary. This, originally, was to be where we would spend most of our time in the 6 weeks here. There was (and is) much to do. Painting the inside hallways, including 2 murals, fixing holes in the walls, fixing / finishing the outdoor netball court, fixing and painting the bathrooms, making tables and chairs from available materials, and much more I've forgotten. We began on the netball court, and after 3 days of work and one weekend, God raised up contractors within the church we work with to do the work instead. Praise God! The next place we went is an orphanage on the other side of town called Tears of Hope. We were to paint the entire interior, fix a bed, fix and paint the jungle gym, and of course love the kids and the staff. The first week and a half there, we had no supplies to start work, and the kids were on school holiday, so we had our hands full. We each became human jungle gums, safety nets, and had multiple new hairstyles each day. Over the weekend we got supplies, so the next week we began painting. It turned out, that would be our last week there, as we would begin painting the sanctuary at the church, this time working with the contractor. That was to begin Monday. We sanded the walls we could reach and wiped the dust off, and since then we have been waiting for the ok from the contractor. Currently, the plan is to start painting Wednesday morning. Subject to change. The painting must be finished by Friday afternoon before we leave for host families over the weekend. Once it is finished, there is no known plan. And that's ok. There doesn't always have to be a plan. We don't need to always be working. It's ok if we don't have much of a schedule. That's ok. The real struggle is personal. Internal. More than it has ever been here in Africa. As a tourist town, this is the most "American" place we've been to. There's consistent wifi, coffee, and a view everywhere you go. This is where the desert meets the ocean. Here, we can choose. We can choose where we spend our time and energy when we're not working. We can go swim with dolphins, grab a coffee in any corner, watch the sunset, go for a run, sit and journal on the beach…. We can choose to invest, or not. We can do anything we decide. And that's terrifying. I appreciate being able to choose, really. That's. it the scary part. The scary part is realizing how poor my decisions are sometimes. Because my decisions at home aren't much different. And here I can see what happens through a different lens. I can so easily fall into the routine of getting up, going to work, coming home, getting up for work, going to church on Sundays. Although I'd like a consistent place we could all invest in as a team and work hard, in glad it been so unpredictable. I've had to be flexible and try new things, and it's kept me away from a routine. I've gone to some coffee shops with teammates so much that the servers know us by name and order and how long we're here. We know half the staff by name, age, even their kids ages sometimes. Just tonight we were invited out to coffee with our server on her next day off. I have made many new friends from this, and strengthened some old ones. With all of that, I'm not sure what our purpose is here. I don't think there is an overarching, specific way we are to live out our ultimate purpose here. I think there are a lot of half hidden purposes, and I think each person has a different one or several different ones. One of mine may be to get me thinking about how to live for Christ at home. Maybe to make me realize that my purpose doesn't always exist in the job I do, but in the decisions I make and the people I meet, the "little" things. Perhaps to cause me to cherish the moments, and take things one prayer at a time. In the last 4 weeks there have been many ups and downs. It has been every level of confusing and has hit just about every emotional level at one point or another. It's been hard, stressful, boring, joyous, and full of change. I don't know what our, my, purpose is here. But that's ok, I may never really know. With or without that knowledge, I will still be faithful, living every day, every moment, with eyes and heart open, ready for wherever God leads me, hopeful for the future. Whatever it is, I pray that I live it well. Hosea 2:14-15 "Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak comfortably unto her. And I will give her her vineyards from thence, and the valley of Achor for a door of hope: and she shall sing there as in the days of her youth, as in the day when she came up out of the land of Egypt."

[livingthroughthelimits]

Immersion: Day 11

I am currently sitting at a coffee shop in New York City in the midst of so much unacknowledged chaos. Just beginning the start of this 6 month journey. I began 11 days ago, flying into the Fort Wayne Indiana airport and meeting a single team member there, and would soon meet the rest of my team throughout the day. We were driven to the training center where we would spend the next four days in training with several other mission teams. I was a little shocked to notice that when all my team was gathered, there wasn’t a single man present. This induced slight apprehension about 9 women traveling alone across countries, but the Lord works in mysterious ways, and this was certainly mysterious to me. Each morning till late afternoon for those days, we would be in a classroom talking about Loving people through Christ and being taught to recognize cultural differences that we may encounter. Over the course of Thursday all the other mission teams had embarked from the center, and we were patiently anticipating our departure Friday morning. Friday morning came along and we began our 10 hour drive to the extravagant New York City streets, in particular, Harlem, NY. Anyone who has been a student of American history has probably heard the name Harlem mentions once or twice. Frankly, Harlem had not received the most dignified reputation in the books. There was some apprehension throughout the group, but it has all dissolved since the initial arrival. Racially, socially, and politically we were the odd ones out, but with the pure intention of loving people, these differences did not come to the surface of our everyday interactions. We began staying at the Salvation Army center in the center of Harlem, and it has been incredible so far. We spent our first weekend exploring the Big Apple, being the confused and clueless tourists that we were. Monday, day 7, we began working side by side with the Salvation Army, trying to make ourselves available to them in whatever way possible. Everyday in the mornings from 10:30-12:30 some of us are serving food in the soup kitchen, and others are outreaching and trading stories with the less fortunate people we were serving. From 2:30-6 the After School program is in session, a program that cares for children whose parents are not able to retrieve the kids from school until after work. Some of us have been doing that, and some of us have been helping out the Salvation Army Lieutenants. The After School program has been more difficult, and understandably so. It seems as if the teachers for the program are insulted that this group of women feel that they need help to do their jobs. I completely understand, and while we are trying to help in a non intrusive way, we are still trying to figure out a way to serve in a way that there is no “better than thou” miscommunication. Prayers for those relationships would be greatly appreciated. We are doing well, however there has been lots of sickness being passed around, and I pray that our immune systems will be strengthened for the rest of the upcoming 6 months out of country. We will be setting off for Jamaica one week from today, and I pray for peace and assurance for that transition. Thank you all for your prayers, they have truly made a difference for us here. I still am not fully funded, I have $1,979 to raise to complete these 6 months, if you or anyone you know would like to invest in this mission, this is the link you can follow: https://experiencemission.org/sponsor/improfile.asp?sponsoreeid=7BC234F8-4783-4F07-B208-5523C053C46F

[masstoafrica1-blog]

Wrapping Up Lesotho

Thoughts are difficult to trap sometimes. We have now finished our time in Lesotho, and in the morning (late Saturday night for many of you) we will leave for Namibia. Just about everyone I've spoken to in the last week has asked me some variation of "how was Lesotho?" or "what did you think/like/etc.". And I honestly don't know. There are many conflicting thoughts, ideas, and feelings, and I don't know where to start. For one thing, there's the size of our team. One team member, Chyanna, our resident Canadian, became sick during home stays, and had to return to South Africa. While there, having wifi, she received news of her family and some struggles there. Through much prayer, she decided to return home. The timing was such that none of us were able to say goodbye. We all miss her terribly, but we know she's where she needs to be right now, and we're praying for her everyday. So 13 is now 12, and tomorrow it will be 11. Drew, our team leader thus far, will not join us in Namibia, and instead will travel to Mozambique to lead a 1 month team there. We will likely see him before we return to the US, but it will still be an interesting adjustment. We'll all miss him, with his quiet wisdom, clever humor, and strong leadership. There are also 2 others, Sara and Jarod Hale, who have been interning for Experience Mission here in Southern Africa for the last 2 years. They have returned to the US for training, and won't be back until July. While not technically part of the team, they have been with us on every stage of this journey since our arrival here in February, and have given us joy, encouragement, laughter, wisdom, and so much more. On the other hand, our group has also (sort of) increased. The van Wyk family (pronounced fon vike) has also been with us since our arrival. More than that, they've opened their home to us, providing food, shelter, wifi, training, and transportation. Not to mention genuine love, encouragement, prayer, and wisdom, woven through simple conversation and relationship. They have blessed us in innumerable ways, and are now continuing to do so by joining us in Namibia for a time. The adults may not really be part of the team paperwork wise, but I can't imagine us without them. Let me return to Lesotho, now having explained some of the sorrow and excitement. Home stays finished up last Friday, and we returned to Growing Nations campus (although the students stayed home for a few more days). We met up in Mohale's Hoek, and had lunch (and wifi) at a hotel there (one of the few places that will fit all of us). Paige and I took a taxi (15 passenger van which can always hold more than 15) about an hour into town after waiting for the rest of the seats to fill up. The moment we stopped in town, the taxi was swarmed with other drivers, taking bags to have a foothold to ask where the owners were going. After retrieving our bags, we walked to the hotel, and the joy of seeing our friends was overwhelming. I'm sure I didn't stop smiling until the next day as we shared the joys, struggles, and funny stories of home stays, and continued to do so over the next several days as we got back into life at Growing Nations. During those last few days, we picked more beans, and continued to connect with the staff and students. On Saturday 4 of the team myself included) again climbed Snake Mountain, successfully making it to the summit in time for sunrise (3rd times a charm), and on Sunday attended the local church for the last time. They welcomed us warmly with dancing and singing 5 weeks before, and our goodbye was the same, although bittersweet. On Wednesday morning, we left in a taxi headed for the border at 7. Most of the staff and students were awake and came out to say goodbye and pray us off even as we prayed for them and the country of Lesotho. As we drove towards the border over the next hour, I thought about our time there. I wondered how life would be now that we've gone, naturally back to the way it was in many ways, but would there be something different? I wondered, did I do what I was meant to do? To show Christ, to share his love, and leave myself behind? Did I push myself to go beyond what was comfortable to me, and really live in the present? Did I find the kingdom of God there and work alongside them tirelessly to build it up? Did I pour into them more than I had? Did I go the extra mile and look for places to serve and love them? Did I truly seek God and his will daily, following him in every way? If I was being honest, none of the above answers are 100% yes. I'm not perfect, it's true, this is proof. I love Lesotho, and the people. I did find Christ and the kingdom there, and I left part of my soul there. Could o have done better? Absolutely, and I regret not doing better, not doing more. If I let it, I could sit for days and list hundreds of ways I could have done differently, and I could let it push me into the ground. But I won't do that. Christ wants to lift that burden from me, and he has. I know where I need to improve, with the team, with the next leg of the journey, and in the relationships I made in Lesotho. And he will be with me, guiding me through it all, because he is faithful, even when I screw up. So, Lesotho, was a time of ups and downs, in every sense. God is working mightily there, and I was both honored and privileged to join in for a time. The work will continue, and I can't wait to see the beautiful harvest. Matthew 9:37-38 "Then he said to his disciples, "The harvest truly is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Therefore pray the Lord of the harvest that he will send forth laborers into his harvest.""

[masstoafrica1-blog]

Lesotho: The Kingdom of Mountains, Valleys, and Lessons

Note: Written on Tuesday, April 25, 2017. Posted on Friday, April 28, 2017. Hello from Lesotho! I apologize for not having posted in several weeks. Here, there is no wifi, nor is there electricity here in our home stays. To post this, I have to go to the hotel in town, an hour away by taxi (after the hour hike to the river, the half hour boat ride, and the half hour taxi to the taxi ring). We have been here for about 4 1/2 weeks, and it is wildly different from South Africa, or really almost anything I've ever known. Our first 2 1/2 weeks were spent at a place called Growing Nations (GN), a ministry within Africa Inland Mission (AIM). There is some electricity here from the solar panels, but it usually goes out shortly after supper. There is also running water with several taps outside for laundry (done in buckets) or filling water bottles. During our time there, we helped to farm. I think I can officially call myself a professional bean harvester and thresher. On Sunday of the second week, the students arrived back at campus, who are also those we are living with currently. The students consistently go back and forth between home and GN, putting what they learned into practice on their own fields, still providing for their families. Myself and another teammate, Paige, are living in a small mountainside village called Habeka, with our host student/sister Khabane "Ambo" Adoro and her family. There are a couple of village taps for water, one being only a couple houses down. Each family has a toilet or outhouse. Since our family is fairly spread out, the one we use is up the hill. The house above us on the hill has electricity for a deep freezer, which the whole community pays to use when needed. The school is on the other side of the mountain, and I do not envy them the daily hikes to and from it. To get to the village from the road, you must first go down the hill to the skate (rowboat), and then climb back up the other side. After that, there are several paths to choose from, all meandering around fields, gulleys (gongas), and rocks. Getting here with a 50 pound backpack in the rain was something like a long treacherous mudslide at parts, strenuous and difficult from the incline. I'm not looking forward to the hike back in 3 days. On past teams, members have said that their time in Lesotho was the most challenging. I cannot in any way dispute that. To say the least, it has been a learning experience. I thank God everyday that I have been paired with Paige also, who has had to put up with me daily for the last week and a half. (Sorry Paige, I know it's rough.) There are 2 things that I have struggled with the most. Anyone who knows me probably knows that I am an introvert. I love my family and friends and meeting new people, and I love being with them, but I need time alone. Time to think, read, pray, sing, just to be by myself and recharge. That does not exist here. The three of us (Khabane, Paige, and I) bathe together (separate buckets, same room), walk to the toilet together, eat together, hike together, sit together, even sleep together (also with Oete her little sister). The closest I have come to being alone is waking up before them and staying up late journaling. Don't get me wrong, I love Paige and I love Khabane and her family and all of the friends and relations we meet every day. I love laughing with them, playing with the village kids, the randomness in each day, and the huge funny differences between all of our lives. But writhing all of those things, I have also gained a new appreciation for solitary silence, and I cherish the few minutes I get. The second thing I've struggled with is also pretty clear. It's not always the easiest thing for me to take instruction. It's easy to do it when the person giving it is clearly in authority over you or has more knowledge or experience than you do. When the subject of discussion is yourself however, it gets considerably harder, especially when nothing can convince them otherwise. For example, the first week here in Habeka, I would hear the following at least once a day: "Mpho, you are cold! You must put the jacket on!" (Mpho is my Sesotho name, meaning gift.) Now, I have no idea what the official temperature is here, but it's still hot. Most of the time, I was close to sweating, so the last thing I wanted to do was put on a jacket. It's right up there with eating chili chutney. Naturally, I told them that no, I am not cold. But after 20 minutes of trying to convince them of that, I still had to put on a jacket. There are many more examples. Tired, cold, hungry, thirsty, hot, not to mention my choice of jeans and sandals. Looking back, I know that they are just trying (really really hard) to take care of me. My reactions at that point weren't always from that perspective, and I quickly became short, stubborn, and internally angry. I knew that was the wrong way to be. Taking advantage of our long daily walks to and from the river and the shops on the other side, I would get in lots of time in prayer. Mostly telling God how annoyed and angry I was, then trying to refocus on something else. I did need to refocus, but not on the good things, not on the parts I liked, not on the past or the future. I needed to refocus on Christ. Our team leader, Drew, asked us Friday how we had both seen and shown Christ. I didn't like my answer. When I thought about it, I had seen a lot of Christ, especially in Oete and their grandma. But I couldn't find anything to say that I had shown Christ. That's why I'm here, to show Christ, to share his love and be an example of the coming kingdom, and I had failed miserably. While my attitude has shifted and my focus has again returned to Christ, I'm still forcing myself to answer that question everyday. Often, I still don't like my answer, knowing that I could have done better, that I must do better. Thankfully, my God is a God of grace, mercy, and forgiveness, none of which are in short supply. So, in the morning, I will try again, and again, and again, to show Christ and his love to my host family and friends. I have two more full days left to keep going, two more days where Christ is the center, and the possibilities are endless. John 3:30 - "He must increase, and I must decrease."

[masstoafrica1-blog]

Magnify the Lord with Me

Man, these two weeks have flown by. It is insane to think that we've been here for almost a month and a half, and that our time in South Africa is almost at an end. In the last couple of weeks, well, it's been the same, but as I continue in my relationships and friendships at the school and in my host family, I can see God at work so clearly. I've still taught at least half of the time. I still tell them the same story at least once a week per request. And, I still attempt to learn Zulu. (Notice the attempt, and imagine 15 kids busting out laughing and dragging their friends over to hear me repeat a word they just taught me.) However, in the familiarity, there has been change and surprise as well. First, last week, I took 3 kids aside sitting class because they hadn't done their math homework. Here, they do math horizontally, 2+2=4. Upon seeing their struggles, I have taught several of them the vertical way. One of these kids, Satcha, has always been behind in class, and also doesn't really know how to read or do math very well. Before I even finished writing the problem, she had the answer! No counting, no guessing, no cheating, just instantly she understood. The rest of the homework was a breeze! I later took Bhanele aside for English, and he has begun to recognize letters and their sounds. It's still mainly memorization, but he can now get the answers without having to read the entire page for each problem, and he can find a letter within a word by saying the word. I was so proud of them!!! Second, this past Monday there was a march on the highway outside of Olievenhoutbosch. As they not only were marching on the road, but also throwing rocks, burning tires and allowing no cars to get through, we did not go to school, and instead spent the day at our community partners house. It ended up being a really good thing too, not just for safety reasons, but also because several of us needed an extra day to just rest. Spending some time in the Word, in prayer, in serious conversation, or investing in a nap, it was definitely good to have an extra unexpected day of time together. Thirdly, and the most surprising, was the departure of a mentor that we all have grown close to, Happy. Today, Saturday, was game day, where all of the kids from the township are invited for games, dancing, food, and to hear the Gospel at the school. I don't remember seeing such a mass of kids before. There was no room to dance in assembly, at least not without tripping over 10 kids in the process! Around the middle of game day, just after dancing, Happy came around to as many of us as he could find, giving us a hug and saying goodbye. When he came around to me, I said, "But we'll see you on Monday, yeah?" "No, I'm going home, I won't be there next week." I knew he meant he was going to Malawi, and since next week is our last week in that township, we will likely never see each other again in this lifetime. This realization hit me like a brick. I was completely shocked. Within that, I also realized, we only have one week left at the school. I practically ran to my room when we got back, and within a few minutes I was lying on my bed shaking and crying. In the last 2 1/2 months, never have I wanted to call home so badly. Just to hear a friend or family members voice, and pretend as though I'm not 8,000 miles away. I don't miss being home, I miss being with the people at home, my friend and family, talking, laughing, just hanging out. I wasn't able to push this homesick feeling aside as I usually can. I knew I needed to let it out, so I turned on "Magnify" by We Are Messengers, and thought, and cried, and listened. I've always connected with this song ever since I first heard it on the radio, but today, listening to it repeatedly, God gave me some new perspectives. The first one requires a little bit of backtrack. I have prayed these lyrics for myself so often in the last year, and similar prayers before that. In our time in New York City, a friend asked me, "What 2 things do you want God to change on this trip and why?" One of my answers was to trust God more. I mean, I almost gave up on coming here and following God's will for me because I didn't trust he would get me here. So my desire was literally for him to "take it all away" and "God, be greater than the worries in my life, be stronger than the weakness in my mind, let your glory come alive, be magnified". And that is exactly what he has done. He has taken me out of my comfort zone in so many indescribable ways. He has removed me from my support system. He has stripped me of my ideas of education, hope, faith, unity, love, joy, and peace, and is replacing them with his own. He has taken away everything I could be thinking about and made himself the focus. In that last statement lies the second perspective. After receiving the aforementioned view, I opened a randomly marked page and read 2 Chronicles 29. Verse 25 reads, "And the Lord magnified Solomon exceedingly in the sight of all Israel, and bestowed upon him such royal majesty as had not been on any king before him in Israel." The definition of magnify is "to praise highly; to glorify; to show honor to God, to make greater." In verse 25, God magnifies Solomon, and made him great in the queue of all of his people. As a result, the Israelites not only believed he was a great man, but they also followed and trusted him in the coming days and years. Not just because he was kid, but because in being magnified by the Lord, he was proven to be wise, and righteous, and worthy of their trust and obedience. It was at that point more than heritage and riches. It was honour and love. It was the ability and willingness to "blindly trust" even when they didn't know the end or the reason. We as Christians are called to magnify the Lord. Not to make him bigger, as he is infinite, but to make him bigger in our lives. To praise him, honour him, and bless him, because he is worthy. Not only this, but to make him our focus, to see him for how great and good he really is. John Piper said in a sermon a few years ago, "We are not called to be microscopes, but telescopes." My God is not small enough to fit under a microscope, and if I look at him that way I will never truly understand his beauty, glory, power, and love. Rather, I must look at him as though through a telescope, which brings the far off galaxies and stars into focus so that we can see their beauty and their characteristics, so that we can learn from them, and so that we can wonder in amazement at how complex they are compared to the tiny dots we once called fireflies. In truly magnifying God, making him our focus and living for him, we also inherently trust him, because we see more and more that he is trustworthy. We begin to love him and grow closer to him, because we see how much he loves us and wants us with him. We follow him, "blindly", because we cannot see the plan, or the reason, or the end. Instead, we see the Planner, the Creator, whom we already love and trust. We rest in awesome wonder of the knowledge "that all things will work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose." Indeed, "I don't need to see everything, just more of you." Psalm 34:1-8 "I will bless the Lord at all times: his praise shall continually be on my mouth. My soul shall make her boast in the Lord: the humble shall hear thereof, and be glad. O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together. I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. They looked unto him, and were lightened: and their faces were not ashamed. This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles. The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them. O taste and see them at the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him."

[masstoafrica1-blog]

South African Birthdays and Surrender

Thank you everyone for the birthday wishes! It truly was a blessed day. I got more "happy birthday"s and serenades than I can count, and spent a memorable evening worth my host family discussing scripture. At the school, I had to dance in front of everyone. They have a tradition that on your birthday, you become a flower. As such, you need water to grow. So, when I wasn't looking, Happy (a lead mentor) dumped a bucket of water over my head! I can't remember a happier, more unique (or wet!) birthday. So South Africa. That's where I've been for the last 4 weeks, and that still surprises me when I think about it. That I am not in America, but this feels like home. Granted I'm living with a well off family with more than enough room, a huge garden, and 2 lovable dogs, but here, South Africa, feels like home. It feels like I belong, like I am supposed to be here. Any doubt or fear I had about coming has been washed away. It is long gone, and never coming back. In the last 3 weeks, after finishing our worldview orientation, we started living with our host families and working at the Olievenhoutbosch Christian School. My host mom works at an American pharmaceutical company, and my host dad works as an IT Tech. Their 2 kids (Ockert 23, Azelda 19) are at University in Pretoria, but sometimes come home for weekends. My host parent are involved with the Gideons, the group that puts Bibles in hotels, jails, and the like. They enjoy spending time together, and have managed to sit through several of my, ahem, lengthy stories. They're pretty cool people. During the day, my team and I are at the school, each in our own class, generally from about 8:30 to 3:30. By the time we get there, classes have already started. The school teaches about 170 students, from Grade R (Kindergarten) to Grade 4. I am in a second grade class with Ma'am Gladys, a strict but loving and funny woman, whose home language is Zulu. She agreed to try and teach me Zulu the other day, after laughing for a few minutes after I asked her. Our class is only 12 students, although the school average is 18. We leave class around 11:30 most days to have a Bible study with the mentors who run Aftercare, the after school program. We finish when the kids get out of class, and play with them until lunch, and then play with them some more. At least, until someone begins yelling "BACK TO CLASS!!!!" At which point we go to very different classrooms with a mixture of our grade as a whole, and help them with homework until it is time to leave. On a normal day, there are at any point 5 kids shoving homework at me asking questions of every kind. This, is where I have learned to dance, hug, high-five, and pray more in one day than I have in my life. Typically in my regular class, I either teach or grade papers and homework. I have never understood a teachers role and how hard their jobs are more than I do now! The teachers here aren't allowed to grade or make copies during the day, and the way the curriculum is set up and monitored, if they don't follow the book on a daily basis, they get penalized. So, if a student (or whole class) falls behind, they can't go back and review it tomorrow. They have no choice but to move onto the next subject. I found this out on Thursday from a teammate, and it finally made sense why my class could barely read or count without using their fingers. Earlier that day, I had started my second lesson by having them complete rhyming words on the board, and I ended by teaching them what a vowel is. On Wednesday during Aftercare, I helped one child in my regular class, Bhanele, with his homework. He got the math with some help, and he got the English answers. But when I asked him to read another problem for practice, he couldn't do it. Come to find out, he can't read at all, and he only knows a few letter sounds if he looks at an alphabet chart. For almost 3 full weeks, I had no idea that this child that I spend so much of my time with could not read, nor did I know just how much my entire class, the school even, struggles with that and more. While I waited to get picked up that day, I sat down and cried. I started to pray through my tears, but what would I say? What do you ask when you suddenly realize that the kids you love so much, are barely able to comprehend the basics of the grades behind them? I was shattered and defeated. When I got home, I started thinking out loud, and just spouting what I wanted for these kids at God. I want them to understand English and Zulu, verbally and on paper. I want them to be able to read without looking at a chart constantly. I want them to be able to count and do math without using their fingers. And so, so much more than I can put into words. Finally, I paused, and said, "God, what do you want for them?" The answer was astounding. He wants the same things for them as he wants for me. He wants them to know and love him for who he is. He wants them to talk to him about the good, the bad, and the mundane. He wants them to be in Christ, and be a part of the New Covenant he has for us. He wants them to love unconditionally. He wants them to know and rest in the knowledge that he loves them. He wants them to not only be a part of the kingdom, but to be, bring, and live the kingdom. He wants them to know that they are not cursed, and that they can change. He wants them to know the full meaning of shalom, nothing missing and nothing broken. It was then that I realized, that no matter how well they read, or how high they can count, or how many languages hey speak, none of it will matter if they don't have Christ and his love in their lives. No matter how much they do or don't have, or how far they go in school, Christ is, and always will be, more important. It was there that my focus shifted, and I surrendered my wants to God, and made his wants, my wants. Yes, I still want them to read and count, and I will still teach them those things. But more than that, I want them to know God, and his great love for them. I want them to understand that God is always with them, and he will always hear them, and that he is more than they could ever want or need. That life itself is found in him. That fear and worry and doubt have no power with him. I want them to not just know these things, but to live them every day. This is now something I do daily, surrendering my desires and praying for these kids, the school, and South Africa. This world is broken, not the least of which is South Africa. Only Christ and his kingdom can fix it. So, we will bring Christ and the kingdom to these communities and people every day, because that is our purpose. As Hein van Wyk said, "You are sent here for such a time as this." And so it is.