One of the things I've been slowly mulling over for the past year or so is the idea of Christianity being a journey. It was a huge thing for me to realize that the moment I accepted Jesus as Lord was not THE MOMENT where everything was changed and I was made perfect. It was, instead, the beginning of a process in which God changed me and is gradually making me perfect.
When I looked at Christian Tricia, I knew she wasn't perfect. What a relief to know that I'm not supposed to be, not yet!
Anyway, after that revelation, I started seeing how life affects that spiritual journey, and how those horrible times of depression or apathy or pain are actually hugely monumental in getting us closer to God and closer to who He wants us to be. At the Bible study I led this fall, I said something like, "We should look forward to trials, because they will lead us closer to God!" And everyone agreed that yes, they do, but someone told me, "But I don't think we ought to look forward to them."
At which point I, having no back bone, agreed. But really I don't! I really really think we ought to look forward to pain and temptations and the badness life throws at us. For two reasons: 1) because of their end, because God uses those times to bring us closer to Him, and that is worth looking forward to, and 2) because anticipating with joy causes our hearts to crash into those horrible times from a higher point...I would much rather meet disaster with a smile on my face instead of "oh dear, look what's come, I'd better slog my way through."
I hadn't thought much about this until I bought a book at the Senegal Missionary Women's Retreat called Soul Keeping by Howard Baker. It's brilliant, and speaks to the idea of our soul's journey, and how to focus on what really matters, and what it means to lead our soul into a closer relationship with God. And this is what Howard Baker said about the matter of depression and pain:
"Such is our human nature that, when we are desperate and lost, we are most willing to surrender to new perspectives on life and accept new directives. If we understand how such times help us arrive at our ultimate destination, we can begin to make room for them as normal, and even necessary, passages in our spiritual growth."
Make room for them! I love that! I want to make room in my life for the depression and apathy that will come after a mission trip. It is in that dark time that I see the desires God has planted in my heart, and I feel the weight of not being on mission. It is during that time that I will also be inspired to make something more of my time in the United States, because I don't want to live in that funk forever, and even though it's not as glamorous or as personally-soul-fulfilling, I can live on mission in Peoria. I would not come to those realizations without first going through depression and apathy.
God, help me to make room in my life for desperation and lostness, because I trust that it is through those times that you will bring me closer to You.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Traveling Perspective
One week ago, I was painting women's toenails and dumping dirty foot-water into sand. A week ago I was in Senegal, an ocean away, on a different continent.
That doesn't seem like a big deal, and so the world seems small.
My mom told me it was weird that people didn't make a bigger deal that we had returned, and.....I agreed with all those people who didn't act like it was a big deal. I guess living overseas for five months makes a two-week visit seem less monumentous. Add to that international travel every six months and friends who visit other friends in Istanbul or France or India just for kicks--what a strange new world I live in.
I love it.
But really, it's completely head-spinning that I've not been home even a week. It feels like ages. It's depressing how quickly Senegal feels like a memory. The pictures are old news. The stories are told and retold.
Life moves too quickly sometimes.
That doesn't seem like a big deal, and so the world seems small.
My mom told me it was weird that people didn't make a bigger deal that we had returned, and.....I agreed with all those people who didn't act like it was a big deal. I guess living overseas for five months makes a two-week visit seem less monumentous. Add to that international travel every six months and friends who visit other friends in Istanbul or France or India just for kicks--what a strange new world I live in.
I love it.
But really, it's completely head-spinning that I've not been home even a week. It feels like ages. It's depressing how quickly Senegal feels like a memory. The pictures are old news. The stories are told and retold.
Life moves too quickly sometimes.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
African Pants
Mostly because of Mallory's awesomeness, I bought some African pants in Saly. I'm pretty sure they win the award for "begging to be pantsed." I almost want to pants myself, it's so tempting.
When I told Mallory that I wanted some nifty African pants of my own, she said she couldn't wait to wear them in America. I told her that they would be great for Walmart, and she responded thoughtfully, "You know, whenever I picture myself wearing them in America, I am in Walmart."
Monday, November 15, 2010
I'm Back
Well, I'm in Peoria. I am not even trying to be happy about it, but maybe tomorrow I will try. I about equally want to sink into post-mission depression or rise above it.
However, I am not at all sad that I went, even though going inevitably meant leaving. I so so so much loved spending time with Liz. She is my soul mate, and no day is bad with her in it. And it wasn't just her--I love the Forsythes. I love Mallory (what's before google?). I even love the new Hands On girls. I mean, I want to continue living with them and hanging out with them, that's how much. And I love my Woodlanders, especially outside the Woodland zone.
So it was great, and the retreat in particular was just amazing. I mostly felt very useless, doing menial jobs that anyone with basic motor functions can do. But I feel so blessed, that God allowed me to go on this trip and just absorb and watch women who are desperate for God. I left feeling that I can't not be a missionary. It's the easy way out, really. I want to be desperate for God, and it's a lot easier to be desperate for Him when you're living in a poverty-stricken country, fighting against daily spiritual warfare.
That's scary. But also intensely exciting.
I don't really have thoughts for this blog. They are in my head and my heart, and are not ready for words yet.
I want to go back.
However, I am not at all sad that I went, even though going inevitably meant leaving. I so so so much loved spending time with Liz. She is my soul mate, and no day is bad with her in it. And it wasn't just her--I love the Forsythes. I love Mallory (what's before google?). I even love the new Hands On girls. I mean, I want to continue living with them and hanging out with them, that's how much. And I love my Woodlanders, especially outside the Woodland zone.
So it was great, and the retreat in particular was just amazing. I mostly felt very useless, doing menial jobs that anyone with basic motor functions can do. But I feel so blessed, that God allowed me to go on this trip and just absorb and watch women who are desperate for God. I left feeling that I can't not be a missionary. It's the easy way out, really. I want to be desperate for God, and it's a lot easier to be desperate for Him when you're living in a poverty-stricken country, fighting against daily spiritual warfare.
That's scary. But also intensely exciting.
I don't really have thoughts for this blog. They are in my head and my heart, and are not ready for words yet.
I want to go back.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Retreat
Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh. I am having such a stupendous time at the Senegal Missionary Women's retreat! I could write for ages and ages, and probably I will, even though it is after midnight and I have to be up before 7:00. For the second time.
Anyway, I was looking forward to the retreat less than Fatick, and leaving Fatick on Friday was awful, because I already miss Travis and the kids. So I was in a bad mood, and I think part of it was spiritual warfare, albeit on a lamer scale than what most people were expecting (because this retreat has been bound up in horrible horrible things, which makes me think God is/will do awesome things through it!).
So after we got to the hotel (which is beautiful and fancy by African standards) and put together the gift bags, I took the Woodlanders to La Riviera and some shops! By myself! It was so fun to be the knowledgeable one, especially since that included haggling and hamburgers.
Then we got in the pool. Heaven.
Wendy and I are in charge of leading the high school girl's small group, which we did before our first main teaching session on Friday night. Every session, we start by singing at least ten songs. Yeah, it's intense, and my legs get tired. But it's AWESOME. Oh man, singing praises with 150 women who have given up everything to serve God is just incredible.
Oh, and I found out that more than 45 organizations are represented here. Of which the IMB is a very small percentage. Very cool!
The speaker is just awesome. She completely solidified my desire to be a missionary. I don't know how anyone can listen to her stories and not want the life she has, even though her stories involve car accidents and abductions and revolutions. But she loves God, and she was a missionary for 27 years before being stationed in the United States. This morning she said that one day in the States she was running on the treadmill when she realized that she was no longer desperate for God, at which point she got off and sobbed. That is what I keep trying to say, but can't. It's hard to be desperate for God when we have so much at our fingertips.
After the teaching session, we ate a feast, then put out jewelry for women to make earrings and bracelets. I befriended one missionary in particular, and we made some pretty awesome things. The crafting was too popular, though, because it was after midnight when we finally got everyone to leave.
We started today with a breakfast feast (where I bonded with one of my high school girls), and a workshop meeting. It's very weird to be a leader here, when I am 20-30 years younger than the other leaders. But that is okay!
The first session was brilliant. Then we broke for personal prayer time, which was also brilliant. Then I met with Wendy to pray for our first workshop, which went pretty well. We had four adults along with some high school girls, so there wasn't as much discussion as we anticipated. Still, I got to share a bit of personal stuff, and Wendy was awesome as always.
Lunch. A woman from Guinea Bissau talked to us, and oh my gosh it was maybe the highlight of the trip. Guinea Bissau is the third poorest country in the world, and the worst place to be a child (because of malnutrition) or a woman (because female genital mutilation is actually increasing is popularity). But HOLY COW, God is working there. She and her husband live with some African believers, and Muslims are coming to love Jesus all over the place. The African man they live with went to a hugely Muslim city, and saw a lame man on the side of the street who hadn't walked or felt his legs in four years. The believer said, "I have good news for you. The kingdom of God is here. Would you let me touch your legs so the power of Jesus can heal you?" The guy said okay, so the the believer touched him, and the guy stood up and flung his crutches away. He asked to know everything about this Jesus, and became a Christian, and immediately began telling the crowd that had gathered about what had happened.
And this is not even unusual for this missionary woman! OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH.
Please read that paragraph again. It blew my mind. I want to see that. I want to have the kind of faith that allows miracles to happen.
AAAAAHHHHHHH.
It's after midnight, can you tell? The emotion would be the same always, but I'm less eloquent after this little sleep.
Because after totally rocking my world, we had three hours of pampering during which I emptied and filled water basins for foot soaking, painted one woman's toes and another's fingers, and generally ran around doing menial tasks. Exhausting.
The evening session was brilliant, again, and then Wendy and I had our second and last small group meeting in the shallow end of the pool. At dinner I bonded with Melanie (have I mentioned that I genuinely love Melanie and Jessie, even though they are the Hands On girls who most obviously replaced me, having moved into my room and all? They are awesome) and Christina. Then we were back in the Koinaniansd something Cafe. I didn't help with jewelry this time. Instead I played Fishbowl with Kimberley and six new missionary friends. Awesome.
After my team won, Liz and Mallory brought over some Bible clue game. Eventually Wendy, Cheryl, Christina and Kim played with us, and it was just basically a big laugh fest as we screamed, "DAVID! DAVID! Jericho! Coins. Coins. Coins. Jesus? The son of Kish!"
So much fun. So much awesomeness. The women here are just so inspiring, and I think we've actually done a good job of encouraging and uplifting and pampering them. They sure have encouraged me.
I love it. I don't want to leave. I want to stay desperate for God. I'm scared to be desperate for God. I love mission trips and I never want them to end. I'm tired.
Anyway, I was looking forward to the retreat less than Fatick, and leaving Fatick on Friday was awful, because I already miss Travis and the kids. So I was in a bad mood, and I think part of it was spiritual warfare, albeit on a lamer scale than what most people were expecting (because this retreat has been bound up in horrible horrible things, which makes me think God is/will do awesome things through it!).
So after we got to the hotel (which is beautiful and fancy by African standards) and put together the gift bags, I took the Woodlanders to La Riviera and some shops! By myself! It was so fun to be the knowledgeable one, especially since that included haggling and hamburgers.
Then we got in the pool. Heaven.
Wendy and I are in charge of leading the high school girl's small group, which we did before our first main teaching session on Friday night. Every session, we start by singing at least ten songs. Yeah, it's intense, and my legs get tired. But it's AWESOME. Oh man, singing praises with 150 women who have given up everything to serve God is just incredible.
Oh, and I found out that more than 45 organizations are represented here. Of which the IMB is a very small percentage. Very cool!
The speaker is just awesome. She completely solidified my desire to be a missionary. I don't know how anyone can listen to her stories and not want the life she has, even though her stories involve car accidents and abductions and revolutions. But she loves God, and she was a missionary for 27 years before being stationed in the United States. This morning she said that one day in the States she was running on the treadmill when she realized that she was no longer desperate for God, at which point she got off and sobbed. That is what I keep trying to say, but can't. It's hard to be desperate for God when we have so much at our fingertips.
After the teaching session, we ate a feast, then put out jewelry for women to make earrings and bracelets. I befriended one missionary in particular, and we made some pretty awesome things. The crafting was too popular, though, because it was after midnight when we finally got everyone to leave.
We started today with a breakfast feast (where I bonded with one of my high school girls), and a workshop meeting. It's very weird to be a leader here, when I am 20-30 years younger than the other leaders. But that is okay!
The first session was brilliant. Then we broke for personal prayer time, which was also brilliant. Then I met with Wendy to pray for our first workshop, which went pretty well. We had four adults along with some high school girls, so there wasn't as much discussion as we anticipated. Still, I got to share a bit of personal stuff, and Wendy was awesome as always.
Lunch. A woman from Guinea Bissau talked to us, and oh my gosh it was maybe the highlight of the trip. Guinea Bissau is the third poorest country in the world, and the worst place to be a child (because of malnutrition) or a woman (because female genital mutilation is actually increasing is popularity). But HOLY COW, God is working there. She and her husband live with some African believers, and Muslims are coming to love Jesus all over the place. The African man they live with went to a hugely Muslim city, and saw a lame man on the side of the street who hadn't walked or felt his legs in four years. The believer said, "I have good news for you. The kingdom of God is here. Would you let me touch your legs so the power of Jesus can heal you?" The guy said okay, so the the believer touched him, and the guy stood up and flung his crutches away. He asked to know everything about this Jesus, and became a Christian, and immediately began telling the crowd that had gathered about what had happened.
And this is not even unusual for this missionary woman! OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH.
Please read that paragraph again. It blew my mind. I want to see that. I want to have the kind of faith that allows miracles to happen.
AAAAAHHHHHHH.
It's after midnight, can you tell? The emotion would be the same always, but I'm less eloquent after this little sleep.
Because after totally rocking my world, we had three hours of pampering during which I emptied and filled water basins for foot soaking, painted one woman's toes and another's fingers, and generally ran around doing menial tasks. Exhausting.
The evening session was brilliant, again, and then Wendy and I had our second and last small group meeting in the shallow end of the pool. At dinner I bonded with Melanie (have I mentioned that I genuinely love Melanie and Jessie, even though they are the Hands On girls who most obviously replaced me, having moved into my room and all? They are awesome) and Christina. Then we were back in the Koinaniansd something Cafe. I didn't help with jewelry this time. Instead I played Fishbowl with Kimberley and six new missionary friends. Awesome.
After my team won, Liz and Mallory brought over some Bible clue game. Eventually Wendy, Cheryl, Christina and Kim played with us, and it was just basically a big laugh fest as we screamed, "DAVID! DAVID! Jericho! Coins. Coins. Coins. Jesus? The son of Kish!"
So much fun. So much awesomeness. The women here are just so inspiring, and I think we've actually done a good job of encouraging and uplifting and pampering them. They sure have encouraged me.
I love it. I don't want to leave. I want to stay desperate for God. I'm scared to be desperate for God. I love mission trips and I never want them to end. I'm tired.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Midnight
Last night, Liz and I watched and/or listened to Darren Criss (better known as Harry Potter from the Very Potter Musical) sing "Teenage Dream" from Glee at least six times. That led to her telling me that her friend was looking for people to go to the midnight showing of Harry Potter next week. I exploded into a rant about how hard it's been to get people to want to go with me, which baffles me because, "Everything is always better at midnight. Stupid!"
Liz propelled herself to the other end of the bed and grabbed the sheet up around her face as she laughed maniacally. I had never seen anyone react so violently, but she gasped, "So true! It's so true!"
That's why I love Liz. She would go at midnight, if she weren't living in Africa.
Liz propelled herself to the other end of the bed and grabbed the sheet up around her face as she laughed maniacally. I had never seen anyone react so violently, but she gasped, "So true! It's so true!"
That's why I love Liz. She would go at midnight, if she weren't living in Africa.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Farewell Fatick
Today was potentially my last day ever in Fatick, Senegal. But maybe not, who knows?
In the morning Lamba and I helped Travis put up wires to hold mosquito nets in the hospital room. By help I mean we made sure he ate and drank, and also encouraged him.
In the afternoon Lamba took me to visit her friend. Mbagnik came with us, and walked down the street between us, holding our hands. I would count to three and then we would lift/jump him a few feet. When I stopped counting, Mbagnik started saying, "One, too, tree!" So cute! Have I mentioned?
I learned the gospel in French before this trip, but I kept missing opportunities to use it. Finally I just told Lamba, "I practiced my French! I know very little, but I figured one thing I should know is the story of Jesus, so you wanna hear it?" It was mostly pathetic, and it was definitely more of a blessing for me than for her.
I've realized the past few days that witnessing is really almost totally for our personal benefit. God does not need us to bring people to Him. He can save people or not on His own. But He wants us to know the honor of passing on His name, of glorifying Him. I'm not derailing God's plans when I fail to evangelize, but I'm messing up my own spiritual life, and ruining the chance to grow closer to God.
So anyway, that was very neat, and Wendy was also very neat when I hugged Lamba goodbye, possibly forever. She came up and just straight up said, "I do hope to see you in the United States someday, but more than that, I hope to see you in heaven. We won't have language problems there, and we can hang out forever! I will be there because I believe in Jesus, and I hope you will be too."
Guh. Why can I not be so direct about the things I believe? It was awesome.
So that's the end. Riding behind Liz on the moto from the Forsythe's house to ours was bittersweet. I will see Liz again, but never in Fatick. It's weird. But really, I think I will probably come back someday.
In the morning Lamba and I helped Travis put up wires to hold mosquito nets in the hospital room. By help I mean we made sure he ate and drank, and also encouraged him.
In the afternoon Lamba took me to visit her friend. Mbagnik came with us, and walked down the street between us, holding our hands. I would count to three and then we would lift/jump him a few feet. When I stopped counting, Mbagnik started saying, "One, too, tree!" So cute! Have I mentioned?
I learned the gospel in French before this trip, but I kept missing opportunities to use it. Finally I just told Lamba, "I practiced my French! I know very little, but I figured one thing I should know is the story of Jesus, so you wanna hear it?" It was mostly pathetic, and it was definitely more of a blessing for me than for her.
I've realized the past few days that witnessing is really almost totally for our personal benefit. God does not need us to bring people to Him. He can save people or not on His own. But He wants us to know the honor of passing on His name, of glorifying Him. I'm not derailing God's plans when I fail to evangelize, but I'm messing up my own spiritual life, and ruining the chance to grow closer to God.
So anyway, that was very neat, and Wendy was also very neat when I hugged Lamba goodbye, possibly forever. She came up and just straight up said, "I do hope to see you in the United States someday, but more than that, I hope to see you in heaven. We won't have language problems there, and we can hang out forever! I will be there because I believe in Jesus, and I hope you will be too."
Guh. Why can I not be so direct about the things I believe? It was awesome.
So that's the end. Riding behind Liz on the moto from the Forsythe's house to ours was bittersweet. I will see Liz again, but never in Fatick. It's weird. But really, I think I will probably come back someday.
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