The end and the beginning

So, I have been meaning to write this post for some time now, but every time I sat down to do it, something just didn't seem right.  I think  now is as good of a time as any to finally write it.

While I was in Nigeria God made it very clear to me that I was to go back on a year long STINT.  I will tell that story later, but I just wanted everyone to know that I am going back in September!  Today though, I wanted to share my first journal entry I wrote back in the States.

(written on August 1, 2011)

It seems surreal to be back in Haslett sitting up in the tree overlooking the pond.  The melody of the birds here is harmonized by crickets chirping rather than cows mooing or young Fulani shepherds singing.  When I look up I expect to see a herd of cows grazing the land.  Surprisingly my backyard resembles the Nigerian bush during rainy season (minus the magnificent rocks!)...

Here are some of my thoughts from today:
TIA.  It is a phrase used int he movie Blood Diamond meaning "This is Africa."  It was commonly used during the trip when power went out, when we saw something ridiculous happening while driving, or when something went wrong.  For some reason the phrase and how it was used always rubbed me the wrong way.  It was like something was painfully churning on the inside whenever I heard it.  It leaves very little room for hope.  It was always used with a somewhat negative or "strange" connotation.  It seems to carry the meaning that Africa is a land where nothing goes right.

Then I think of us using it.  Yes, we were in Africa. We lived an African reality – but an African reality as a bature (white person, a foreigner).  Other Africans don't have kids flock to them when they enter a village.  They don't get their picture taken with a pro soccer team while mobs of people try and squeeze in with them.  They don't get invited to a dinner at the governor's house after only being in the country 5 weeks. And they don't get to stroll through security while everyone else gets asked for their passport. It somewhat frustrates me that yes, I got to experience the reality of Africa, but I only got to experience it as a person with white skin from America.

Yet I am still so appreciative of the Nigerian reality I got to experience and live in.  I now have friends who live in mud-block homes with a mattress on the floor that is filled at night with an entire family.  I know children whose parents keep them home from school to farm.  I know children who walk an hour just to go to school.  I know women who work their tails off farming and selling things at the market so they can scrape up enough money to send their children to school.  I know by name and voice children whose parents have died of AIDS.  I know an orphan who has no idea where her brother and sister are.


I also know women who sing praises to God while chopping vegetables to cook Jollof rice over the fire.  I know young men who give up their days to collect firewood and farm for widows, hang up mosquito nets for members of their community who don't have any, and coach futbol for young kids while teaching them about Jesus.  I know people who dance down the aisle to African drums while tithing.  I know widows who love to laugh and dance praising the Lord.  I know women hungry for the Word of the Lord.  I know families that have welcomed orphans into their homes when they barely have enough living space for themselves.  I know teenagers who desire to be the first ones in their families to ever finish secondary school and go on to the university.

TIA, the way I know it, is a place where yes, things may not always go as planned, and yes, there is not an abundance of material things, but it is a place where there is a dependence on God and a place full of hope.  A place full of potential to look a lot more like the kingdom of God.  That is my prayer for the phrase TIA.  That one day it won't be used when the power goes out or you see a guy slip a policeman 50 Naira as he rolls through the checkpoint.  Instead, you see a youth collecting firewood for a widow and your reaction is "Of course, TIA."  You hear of a community putting their funds together to send all the children to school – "Of course, TIA."  You see people living in peace, freedom, and the love of Christ – "Of course, TIA."

Reality colliding with Facts

(excerpt from a journal entry written July 21, 2011)

    Yesterday as I sat on the rocks overlooking the village I was praying and watching a small Fulani shepherd child tending to his cattle.  I had a moment of deep reality revelation/realization.  I was sitting there watching this little boy, who couldn't have been more than 9 years old, in his every-day life.  I was spying on this little boy's reality.  All he knows is spending his days roaming around grasslands with his family's cows and his stick.  He has so much time to exist and think, but what does he think about?  He doesn't go to school, so have his critical thinking skills developed?  What all does he have to think about when his life experiences consist of roaming around with cows everyday?  If he is Fulani, he most likely doesn't know Jesus.  Oh, how I wish He knew the Lord so he could spend his days praising Him, and talking with Him, and listening to Him.
    He started singing and his voice carried to me of the reality we were living in.  I was sitting on a pile of rocks halfway around the world from where I was born watching a boy that was a part of the statistics that so often tear away at my heart live his every-day life.  He is one of millions of children that don't go to school because either his family can't afford it, they need his help with the cattle, or they don't see any value in it.

My view as I was praying that day

    Here was the image colliding brutally with the facts.  Here I was in the same proximity as the child that God has placed on my heart and I was shocked and filled with compassion at the same time.  I was shocked that I have spent 5 and a half weeks seeing these children everyday (even sometimes annoyed when they were being so noisy outside the Ed Center that my students couldn't concentrate) and this was the first time I was hit with this reality.  I was shocked at my helplessness and the huge mountain that is access to education for all children.  But God says with the faith of a mustard seed we can move the mountains.
    Even so, what is and education if these kids don't know their Creator and Savior?  I sit at the village church praying that all of the people could learn how to read and think critically so that they can study the Word of the Lord.  Then I look at the Fulani boy who has no formal education and no relationship with Jesus and I am paralyzed in my mind.  Then I think about how in 1 Corinthians it says that the wisdom of the Lord makes man's wisdom look like foolishness.  God is big enough to reveal His truths to whomever He pleases.  He uses the weak to shame the strong. Yet, at the same time He has given us His word as well...
   I believe that in the end God will completely heal, redeem, reconcile, and restore His creation.  I believe that He is doing that even now.  I get so overwhelmed when I think of the big picture and the brokenness of the world.  I think I need to focus on where God is leading me in this moment, like Abraham... God is faithful and will take care of all of His creation.

Tooth Ache

(excerpt from a journal entry written on July 6, 2011)

     Today at the Ed Center one of the students, Kabo, came in and right away I could tell that something was wrong.  His face was downcast and there was no trace of a smile or sparkle in his eyes which is almost always there.  When I asked him if something was wrong he slightly shook his head no and walked to the other classroom to carry his things while I went on setting up the room for class.  A few minutes later Theresa walked in and asked if Esther would come and help translate because something was wrong with Kabo's tooth and he was crying.  I stayed back for a few minutes because I didn't want to overwhelm him.
     When I went out he was lying face-down on the wooden bench with a small pool of tears collecting near his face.  The other kids were playing around him so I took them away to play so Kabo could have some space.  (Side-note: during this time I was playing ball with Happy and Israel. This was the only time I played ball with Happy.  On my last day teaching all the students gave me a picture they had drawn of their favorite thing that we had done together and Happy's was playing ball!)

This is Kabo with his beautiful smile! I'm just
glad his rotten tooth was in the back so they
didn't have to pull one of his teeth that show
when he smiles.

     Meanwhile, Theresa was trying to figure out what the best thing to do was.  A few minutes later she called me over and we prayed over Kabo with Israel and Happy.  We prayed for healing for Kabo's rotten tooth and for God to take the pain away.  We prayed that somehow God would use this pain for His glory.
     After that Theresa went back inside to talk with Esther about what should be done while I remained outside rubbing Kabo's back, comforting him, and continuing to pray for him until he finally sat up.  When he did there were still huge alligator tears falling from his eyes.  I sat with him, rubbing his back, while the other kids were braiding my hair (aka twisting it and making knots which almost brought tears to my eyes haha).  I felt a small nudge to ask the children if they wanted to pray for Kabo. They said yes.  After a few quiet and shy moments, Esther (the student) finally prayed for Kabo in Hausa.  I don't know exactly what she said, but it was such a beautiful moment watching these children gather around their classmate, friend, and brother seeking the Lord on his behalf.
     I am so grateful to have been given this experience that I know brought glory to the Lord.  I desire so deeply for these children to know the love their heavenly Father has for them and the peace that He can give them.  I want them to know and experience El Roi, the God who sees.  I want them to know and experience Jehovah Rapha, the God who Heals.  I want them to know they have a God who is faithful and promises to never leave them nor forsake them.

P.S. God is faithful and answered our prayers by taking away Kabo's pain until Back2Back staff was able to take Kabo to the hospital a few days later where he got his tooth pulled.

Back in de USA

Hello friends!
     I'm [kinda] sorry that I didn't post more often while I was in NIgeria!  I did not want to spend all of my nights in Africa sitting at a computer trying to get a blog to post... I hope you all can understand.  However, I did spend some time at night journaling.  Over the next few days I am going to publish some of my journal entries.  So, let's rewind time a little and pretend like it is still July and I am still in NIgeria (Oh! How such a huge part of me wishes that could actually be true!!!)
Also, quick side note: I have posted some pictures from my trip on the photo website posted on the sidebar of my blog. Enjoy :)

Mosquito Net Joy

It’s amazing how much joy a simple mosquito net can evoke.  I think the mosquito net companies should use this as their slogan: “one net, a million smiles”… or something like that.  Today we joined the staff and some youth in the village in putting up mosquito nets in the widows’ homes.  It was my first time entering any of the homes in the village.  I still don’t quite know how to react, or even what my reaction is yet. 

Seeing homes like this in pictures in magazines or on late-night commercials for “Save the Children” is very different than actually experiencing them with the people that live in them.  It’s very odd, but it seemed so normal yet appalling all at the same time.  There is one house of a woman named Theresa that has particularly stuck with me.  The small room was speckled with lights that were sprinkling in through the holes in the hundreds of tiny holes in the tin roof strapped to skinny rough wooden rafters covered in wasp nests.  There was one makeshift metal bed with a thin blanket and a small bench.  As I was standing on the corner of the unstable metal frame of the widow’s bed I was having a hard time wrapping my mind and heart around what I was experiencing. I don’t have much more to say about that because I don’t really have any words yet to articulate what I want to.

Theresa (right) and another widow we hung up nets for

After hanging up the mosquito nets we prayed with each of widows.  We prayed for provision, for joy, for healing, for protection, and for the Spirit of God to dwell in their homes and in the village.  We prayed prayers of praise for their lives and for what God is doing in and through them.

There is another widow that is stuck in my mind as I am writing this.  She is the grandmother of one of the students at the education center and a true kindred spirit.  When we first arrived to her family’s home she wasn’t there so the family went to go get her.  As soon as she came around the corner and into our view she started stomping her worn, disfigured feet, dancing and raising her arms up to heaven.  I was standing closest to her and so she came up and embraced me saying “mun gode, mun gode Allah” “We thank you, we thank you God” over and over again into my ear.  Then she continued on with her dancing, stomping, smiling, and praising God.  Her joy was such a testament to God’s goodness.

My prayer tonight as I sit here writing this while the widows are sleeping now protected by their new mosquito nets is that they will be praying prayers of praise to Jehovah Jireh.  I pray they will know the love of their Father.  That they will know the grace of their Savior.  That they are being restored and redeemed – reconciled back to their Creator.  I am praying prayers of thanksgiving that we serve a God who sees the forgotten and will raise up the poor to a place of honor.

Grace, Peace, and Love

It's different [but kind of the same]

June 22, 2011 (this is the day I wrote this, even though I posted it later)

            As my feet made their way across the terracotta pathway to the home sounds of women wailing echoed in my ears.  There were men and women sitting on rocks outside of the group of mud brick homes.  They were all there to mourn the loss of a mother, a grandmother, an auntie, a friend, a loved one.  We were there to mourn the loss of Esther’s mother.  Esther is the other teacher in the Education Center that I will be working with during my time here. 

On Monday we asked Esther how her mother was doing and she told us fine.  We then asked her whether she meant Nigerian “fine” or really fine.  She told us that really her mom was still sick but maybe doing ok.  In our language class we learned that no matter what the truth is, when asked how someone or something is Nigerians will always respond lafiya (which means fine/good) or mun gode Allah (we are thankful to God).  Our teacher told us that the reason behind this is that people have the mindset that their condition could always be worse.  This can be frustrating at times because you never know if people are actually telling the true condition of things.  I don’t think this is too different than what happens in the States.  How often do we ask people “How are you?” and barely have to listen for the answer because we know it will be something along the lines of “Good, how are you?”  Often times we already respond before the person even finishes asking the question (it’s really awkward when they switch it up on you and ask “what’s new?” while you are responding “good”…).

But I got sidetracked… another intern and I accompanied Theresa, Daniel and Evelyn (two Nigerian staff) to Esther’s mother’s village to be there for Esther in her time of mourning.  At one point after greeting Esther and telling her that we were sorry for her loss we were sitting in one of the members of the family’s rooms with Esther.  Esther was lying on the bed softly crying and I felt so helpless.  Death is always a hard situation to know what to do because each person can be different.  Some people just want their space to cry.  Others want to be able to escape and keep their minds off of the situation.  Some people want to have their back rubbed or comforted while others just need their space.  There are never good words to say (or at least I can never think of anything to say).  Sometimes I think things are just better left unsaid.  So there I was in an already difficult situation with cultural difference on top of all of that.  I hated it because I was sitting there praying that God would be there to comfort Esther in the mourning of her mother yet I did nothing to comfort her myself.  I am called to be Jesus’ hands and feet and I sat with my feet firmly planted on the ground and my hands tightly wrapped around my water bottle while His child, Esther, lay on the bed crying… so much for listening to and obeying God’s voice.  Such a deep sadness came over me as I sat there watching her crying yet feeling so helpless to do anything.  I could only imagine how much she was longing for her mother’s comfort while she was crying over the loss of her mother.  It was painful.  But I am praying that God will yet again prove Himself faithful despite my unfaithfulness and give Esther and her family the peace transcends all understanding like He promises. I am praying that although her earthly mother is gone that she will choose to allow her heavenly Father to comfort her.

This is one of the students at the Education Center, Hannatu.

On a lighter note I have spent two days in the Education Center and have already fallen in love with all of the kids.  They are very eager to learn and are so precious!  They have smiles that will melt anyone’s heart, especially when they are saying some ridiculous sentence that they just put together (ie: My grandmother is fine, but she is very ugly). Wednesday I taught the class with Theresa’s help because Esther is taking the week off.  It went really well I think.  I am excited to learn a lot this summer. 

Teaching English as a Second Language is very different in the US than it is here.  In the US ESL students are submersed in English and so they are able to pick up things throughout the day.  For the most part “correct” English, as well as an “English” culture surround them.  Here, Theresa is basically the only native English speaker they will ever hear speak.  In schools they learn from teachers that have learned English in school and don’t always say or pronounce things correctly.  It is also hard to find English teaching materials that are culturally relevant to them.  It is also really interesting because their first language, Rukuba, isn’t even a written language.  They have very limited, if any, reading and writing abilities in their second language (which is Hausa).  So basically, they are not only learning a new [third] language, but they are also learning how/what it means to read and write! Talk about a huge task.  Needless to say, there is a lot that I have to learn and I admire Theresa so much for all the work she has done so far.

Sorry for another long post… that will be it for this post, although I feel like I could write about 6 more pages just on this week!

Grace, Peace, and Love.

Ango!

June 14, 2011

Ango! (that means Hello in the village language of Rukuba)

            I’m here and might never be coming home :)  Today was the second day in Jos and it finally dawned on me that I am in Nigeria… in Africa! I have had a crazy couple of days getting here and to be honest, I am not even sure which day of the week is (but that isn’t to uncommon for me!)

I’m sorry that this entry is going to be very long and I promise they will not all be this long (I know a majority of you are just going to skim it anyways).  I would catch you all up, but today was just a jammed packed day and I want to share it with all of you.  Today we had a morning full of orientation.  I am so excited because I will be teaching at the Education Center Monday and Wednesday with Esther, the Nigerian teacher.  I am so thankful that I get to have this experience and I met Esther the other day and I cannot wait to get to work with her!  I am excited to learn from her and be able to share with her all that I have learned.  Thursdays all of us interns will be in the Education Center.  We will be working one on one with the children and will be reading with them and help them with whatever else they might need help with. This will be the time for us to really love on the kids and give them the one on one attention that they are never able to get.  I am so excited for this time and the chance to really develop a relationship with a child and show her/him the love their Father has for them.  I am also excited to see Christ in the children and better understand what he means when he says that we must become like children to enter the kingdom.

On Tuesdays I will be doing community development in the village and will be part of a woman’s bible study in the village as well.  I was so joyful to talk with Will about Back2Back’s vision for community development.  Much of what I have written about in the previous blog post holds true to the way they are going about things. I am excited to experience this type of development and see it in action.

In the afternoon we went on a walk through the village and that is when it really hit me that I was actually in Nigeria. I know I have said this about 5 times already, but I am really excited to work with the people in the village.  At one point kids from the village all ran up to us. They would just come up, hug us, grab onto our legs, and then take our hands as we continued on our journey through the village.  I don’t think even the person with the coldest heart would not have melted a little bit after receiving a hug from one of these precious little ones.  There was one little kid who was just completely naked walking around!  I cannot wait to learn about the character of God from these children of his.

After the village walk through we went to the Rukuba Children’s Home (RCH).  Israel and Katerina are the couple that are starting this and have the most incredible faith of anyone that I have met!  They have so many incredible stories of God’s faithfulness and provision.  Their story is just so incredible and so intricate for me to share it all on this blog. The short version is that Katerina (who is German) came to Nigeria on a whim and met Israel (who is Nigerian) because he was leading her trip.  They told us that very quickly Israel knew that he was going to marry Katerina, but Katerina really had no idea until after she had returned o Germany. After only really having talked with Israel for a few hours, Katerina decided to move back to Nigeria and nine months later they were married! CRAZY if you ask me, but God is often times crazy!

They have the same shared vision for a children’s home in which the children living there would be a part of their family (not like an orphanage).  They have relied on God’s provision throughout the entire process and they have never asked for money (well Katerina said that she grew impatient a few times and asked for money, but nothing ever came of it).  They have stories of friends out of the blue saying they wanted to buy the land for them and then big organizations making huge contributions.  They also have stories that are just as important about depression, quietness from the Lord, and having to wait.  I have been truly inspired by their faith and it has been so encouraging for me to hear of God’s faithfulness.  Often times I think the vision that God has given me is crazy and I don’t even know how to go about starting something.  Katerina has really inspired me that if it is the will of God and for the advancement of the kingdom our God will always provide but we may have to wait.  We are not crazy though!

That is enough for today.  If you actually read all of this I am extremely impressed.  If you skimmed it, I don’t blame you because to be honest I probably would have done the same thing.  If you did skim it here is the short version, so just read these two sentences: God is always faithful.  I may never come home :) (the last one is a joke… kind of)

Grace, Peace, and Love.

P.S. This was written yesterday.  Big news from today: I ate a live bug!