God’s Character
Mission begins in the character of God. In eternity before the creation of the world, God had a perfect relationship within himself through the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (John 17:5). In his interaction within this Trinity, God determined that he would create other beings with the purpose of bringing them into fellowship with himself (Gen 1:26, Rev 21:3). God created numerous spirit beings to live in his presence, observe his actions, administer his realm, and eternally praise him. God also created physical beings to showcase his glory. He created the world, suited it for life, and filled it with endless possibilities for discoveries. He then created people in his image, breathing life into his physical creation. In all this, God demonstrated his character through his desire to share his perfect relationship within the Trinity with the beings he created. Rebellion Not all these beings would choose to enter God’s perfect relationship. Despite being in his presence, some created beings rebelled against God, seeking to glorify themselves rather than him. They brought their rebellion with them into the physical world. Through the trickery of these fallen beings, the first two ancestors of the human race chose to join their rebellion against God. At that point, God could have destroyed them and started over, but he had already made up his mind within the Trinity from eternity (Eph 1:4). He had a mission to bring his image bearers in the physical creation into the perfect fellowship he enjoys within the Trinity. God’s Mission God provided a glimpse into his mission through his interaction with the first ancestors. By choosing to listen to a fallen being instead of to God, they had dishonored God and stained his image. Yet God pursued them and had a purpose for them in restoring his honor. The fallen spiritual beings had brought their rebellion into the physical world, and God promised to crush their rebellion through a physical descendant of his image bearers on earth (Gen 3:15). This promise of a physical descendant bringing judgement on the rebellion led to a war over the descendants of Adam and Eve, the first ancestors. The fallen spirit beings attempted to thwart the promise by corrupting the entire human race (Gen 6:5). From generation to generation, the rebellion grew to include every person on earth, except for one family. This family, led by Noah, chose to believe God rather than rebel against him. In line with his mission, God spared them when he judged the earth through the flood. The line of the promised descendant was kept intact. Babel and the Nations After the flood, Noah’s family grew, yet his descendants didn’t honor God like he had. Instead, they gathered at a place called Babel to build a monument in honor of themselves. God saw what they were doing and determined in the Trinity that he would separate Noah’s descendants by their families, spreading them across the earth and giving them different languages (Gen 11:6-7). God’s purpose in doing this was to humble them, to slow the spread of their rebellion, and to set the stage for the next part in his plan. As families spread across the earth, they gradually developed their own unique customs. As they grew and adjusted to their new environments, they faced the challenges of sustaining their families and developing society. While they each had a connection to God through their common ancestor Noah and his immediate family, their desire to honor themselves as they had at Babel remained in them. Whether gradually or suddenly, whether in prosperity or in adversity, each of these families lost the knowledge of the God of their ancestors as they sought their own honor instead of his (Rom 1:21). The fallen spirits, still in rebellion against God, exploited the ensuing void by offering knowledge and protection in exchange for worship and thus enslaved earth’s families. As a result, each family’s customs began to reflect their enslavement even though they were still created in the image of God. While this may seem like a grim picture for humanity, God was still working behind the scenes among these families orchestrating events moving his plan forward. God’s Chosen People Israel Out of all the earth’s families, God chose one to continue his objective. He uprooted them out of a family already enslaved to fallen spirits (Josh 24:2, Acts 7:2). God told Abraham to take his wife and to leave his country. He promised to give him a new country and to make him into a great nation. God then promised to bless all the families of the earth through his descendant (Gal 3:14,16). Abraham believed God and honored him as Noah had. The promise was passed down from Abraham to Isaac to Jacob, and their family became known as the nation of Israel. When Israel had grown to be a large nation, God sent the prophet Moses to give them customs unique from the other nations and recorded them in Scripture. God’s reason for this was to separate a people for himself to preserve the line for the promised descendant and to show the nations his glory. While God was at work behind the scenes in the nations of the earth, he revealed himself openly through Israel. But God’s mission would extend beyond even Israel’s dreams. Incarnation “But when the fullness of the time came, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the Law” (Gal 4:4 NASB). God kept his promise to the first ancestors through Noah, Abraham, and Israel, and sent his image bearing Son to be the rebellion crushing descendant. The Son of God came to reconcile the world to God while bringing honor to him (2 Cor 5:19). Through the incarnate Son, God’s mission within the Trinity came into focus (John 17:20-23). God sent his Son to bring his image bearers into the same fellowship he has within himself. To do this, the Son took on a physical body in the perfect image of God, unstained by rebellion, entered his physical creation, and suffered the consequences of humanity’s rebellion against God. He lived in complete obedience and dependence on God his Father and demonstrated him to humanity. The Spirit of God went with him and empowered him in his life and ministry. In his life he taught those who would listen the truth of the kingdom of God and demonstrated his authority over the fallen spirits. In his death he provided the means through which humanity could be transferred into God’s kingdom (Col 1:13-14). He did this by presenting himself to God as the perfect sacrifice. This pleased his Father and in return, his Father raised him from the dead and gave him an inheritance of believers from among all the families of the earth. Through the promised descendant, all the families of the earth are blessed. After the Son’s death, resurrection, and ascension to the Father, God sent the Holy Spirit to set apart believers who would make up the church. He gave them the job of carrying on the work of blessing the many families of the world through the message of the Son. The Holy Spirit then empowered them to speak in tongues, personalizing the message into the listener’s native language. This sign was a prelude of what was to come. In the centuries since, God continues to call out a people from among the nations to join him and his mission. Just as God sent the Son into the world, he now sends his followers (John 17:18). Just as God empowered the Son with his Spirit, he now empowers his followers with the Holy Spirit (Acts 1:8, Eph 1:13). And just as God enjoys perfect fellowship within the Trinity, so the church comprised of families redeemed from Babel will enjoy perfect fellowship with him.
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Routine- it has a way of following you wherever you go. It is a marriage of habit and necessity, it greets you when you first wake and wishes you goodnight as you place your head on your pillow. In the hours between, it acts as a default as choices come at you throughout the day. Routine differs from world to world, yet its strength does not diminish. It is what pulls you out of bed to walk down to the lake to search for fish and brush your teeth. It reminds you to heat up water for your morning coffee. It encourages you to read the next chapter in your morning devotions. It helps you navigate a maze of decisions coming at you as you plan out your day. There are times when Routine bumps into the Unknown, but even then it is quick to adapt and build new roads. Routine prompts you to walk up the mountain to the school, it reminds you that your friend is coming over to discuss new words and their meanings. Routine walks along with you to the village gathering place, it sits next to you as you visit with your neighbors, it shows itself in the sun setting over the lake. Routine is all around you. If you pay attention, you can learn it. Routine stays the same, yet it can change.
Routine is the first thing I hear in the morning. I shut off my alarm, get out of bed, and shuffle to the kitchen. I prepare some coffee and look through the cupboards for something to eat. I check the weather, listen to an audio Bible, then grab my things and walk out the door to work. Routine comes with me to work, it reminds me of how I've done things before. It follows me home, where it prompts me to pick up my phone and check the news. Routine reminds me I have an assignment due, so I put down my phone and pick up a book. My family is also fond of Routine. My son tells me its time to play a game together, then its time to wrestle, then I tell him its time to read. Routine is resilient. Wherever I am, it soon follows. Routine is built into Creation, and we are all creatures of habit. Routine points us to someone greater, the Creator Himself. He alone is completely faithful, He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. From tragedy to tragedy,
Parts of a whole, you and me. It all started at that tree, Deceived into thinking we weren't free. Thought we could evolve to something we couldn't be, Left us where we are currently. Spread like a virus in a family, Now its infected all humanity. No race immune, nor no country, All you gotta do is read some history. Yet one day out of eternity, Love entered into this calamity. Bringing truth in humility, Honor, allegiance, and loyalty. Strength disguised as frailty, Revealing the God from whom other gods flee. Tearing veils so we could see, Breaking barriers so painfully. Dying paid the ransom fee, Came back to life in victory. Calling out across the sea, "I am the way" remains his plea. Now it's up to you and me, Follow him to new identity. It's strange it's kind of an anomaly, How the effects of the disease are most easy to see, In those who are most different than me. Rejected by democracy, Mobs cried out defiantly, Killed the one who holds the key, Locked up in their insanity. The day will come they'll bend their knee. I remember the first time I saw the village on the shores of the lake. It was March of 2018. We had been on a small boat which was loaded down with cargo and passengers for hours on end. I had made myself comfortable on a 2x4 and Micah was leaning against some bags of grain. Many passengers passed the long hours sleeping with their colorful kangas covering them. I looked out and saw a rocky shoreline and farther up a tree line where tendrils of smoke rose above the trees. It was beautiful and remote. I certainly didn’t know what to expect that day as we got off the boat and began getting to know the people there. I certainly didn’t expect that I might call that place home.
This month our family went back into the village. This time our perspective had changed. Instead of it being a far-off rocky piece of shoreline, we knew familiar faces and names and had been praying for them during our time away. We had also recently made the decision to work there. This meant we, as a family, would learn their language and their culture. It was a huge step for us, but we all felt it was time, and had seen God’s leading in all of it. Getting into this village is quite the journey. For the first leg, we took a bus thirteen hours across country. The next leg we boarded another bus loaded with passengers. This bus rattled its way down rough dirt roads which meandered through bright green tea fields with villages dotting the hillsides. After five hours packed in the bus like sardines, we made it into town. We knew that this might be the last time we would have phone reception for a while. We were surprised that within hours of arriving in this town friends from home, who as far as we were aware, did not know about our travels, began sending us messages asking how they could be praying for us! That sent a chill through me and reminded me of the Holy Spirit and how he binds us together in the Body of Christ. We were being upheld in prayer and that brought great comfort throughout our stay and during our return trip. The next day we climbed into a small car which took us down a steep, narrow road that descended towards the lake. Once at the lake the blazing sun reminded us of the heat of Dar es Salaam. Normally we would spend the night there before boarding a boat early the next morning to a village further up the shoreline, but instead we met a boat ready to leave, so after finishing lunch, we climbed in the boat and left that same day. As we sat on the boat many thoughts ran through my mind. I knew we were headed for the place that might be our home. Its remote location seemed like such a challenge. What would God do? Would it even be possible? Would they accept us? So many questions, and only a verse to try to bring peace to them all. “For we walk by Faith and not by sight” -2 Corinthians 5:7 As we got ready to exit the boat I tried to climb over the edge as daintily and gracefully as all the other women. Climbing over the edge of a bobbing boat, with a skirt, in knee deep water with a backpack, and trying to keep balanced while walking over wet slippery rocks is never easy. But eventually we were all walking single file up the path into the village. This time there were familiar faces. The children were shy, but they remembered Micah’s name from our previous visit, over a year before. As we walked uphill towards the guest house Micah was already asking me when he could go swim in the lake. Being there in that village, I saw an excited shine in Micah’s eyes. Free from the walls and confines of living in a huge city, this village with its many playmates, climbing trees and nearby lake was a dream for an eight-year-old boy. As we got settled into our tidy but small guest room, I was reminded how much Micah had grown since we had last slept in this very room a year and a half before. We had all managed to fit nicely on this same 6 x 5 mattress back then, but now we saw Micah’s long frame stretched the length of the bed. I spent the first night listening to the baying of goats in the backyard, the barking of the guard dog and watching the heat lightning reflecting off the wall. By morning I gladly escaped the tangle of arms and legs and the mosquito net to welcome in a new day. We spent the next two weeks looking for a house that would suit our small family. Several options presented themselves but none of them ended up working out for one reason or another. In the past, we’ve always seen God’s handiwork in the houses we've lived in and their locations. No matter what country we’ve lived in, He has always been faithful. We knew the location of this next house needed to be around people so we would have opportunity to build relationships and learn language. We also knew we at least needed a cement floor and a private bathroom. Throughout our visit we continued to look at different options and discussed and prayed over them. We knew the house was waiting somewhere. During our stay at the guest house I was able to take advantage of mealtimes to learn how the people prepare their fish for frying and how they process their cassava into flour. The cook, a beautiful young mother in her twenties, was very friendly and often gladly explained different words in the local language. She helped me with an audio recording of different greetings they use throughout the day. I was surprised by how honest she was with me as she shared some of the struggles that she had been going through recently, and I was able to get a glimpse into the needs of that place. Often in the heat of the day we found reprieve in the shade and spent time discussing things. How thankful I am for our years spent in Swahili study and how it helped us communicate with these people. Micah went down to the lake twice a day to swim with his new friends. We went down to watch him and were encouraged to hear his Swahili coming back. Throughout our visit he would often ask me the meaning of this word or that. The children in the village learn how to swim at a very young age and by the time they reach Micah’s age they are experts. A few of them began teaching Micah how to swim and do tricks in the water. I went down to the lake each day with my basin of dirty clothes and sat at the waters edge washing clothes with the other ladies. I never realized that washing clothes could be relaxing and enjoyable, but down at the lake there was a cool breeze and the water felt good lapping playfully at my bare feet. Many evenings I went down to the shore to watch the sun set and watch Micah take one last dip before dinner. The sun cast its glow over the clouds and the reflection on the water took my breath away. I spent most of my visit just trying to wrap my mind around the reality that this place along with its beauty and challenges might end up being our home. Challenges, yes, there were challenges. During our visit Neil came down with an infection and before we knew it, we were heading up the mountain to the village clinic. We had expected to find a house, but we didn’t expect to try out the local clinic. We came away from the experience aware of our physical frailty and God’s faithfulness, and more than ever feeling relieved that people were praying for us. Eventually we found the house, which would fit our size of family well. There were four small rooms, two on each end of the house with a living area in the middle. There was an outdoor kitchen, which is common here. The house itself is situated on a hillside and is a short walk from the lake. The terrain around the house is rocky, with pathways winding this way and that. Mango trees spread their shade over house rooftops and pigs lay in their shade. During the morning when the people are in their fields working the neighborhood is quiet but as the afternoon approaches and the sun begins to go down, music can be heard playing from speakers and lively laughter and chitchatting voices signal the time for socializing has begun. Once we decided on a house and Neil began feeling better, we started making plans to return to the city. This time we decided to go back a different way. Instead of taking the boat we opted on a hike up the mountain. We started off early on a Saturday morning. The air was cool and still the shadows were dark. As the path grew steeper, I began tripping on my long skirt and realized why I was struggling so much. I have often hiked steep terrain back home, but never while wearing a skirt. As we climbed up a nearly vertical trail, I watched Micah effortlessly scamper up ahead of me, chattering endlessly about the amazing view and as always, asking questions about this or that. Eventually I had to stop walking and bent over double, gasping for breath, I begged him to stop asking me questions because I was just trying to survive! As the morning light of dawn began steeling over the lake the view was astonishing. Far below us lay the village where we had just come from, and out across the vast expanse of the lake I could see mountains rising above the far shoreline. During our ascent we came across several locals heading down the mountain. They balanced huge baskets loaded down with plantain and cassava on their heads, and I was impressed by how they managed to gracefully descend the steep trail with such loads while wearing kangas, their traditional wrap around. An hour later we arrived at the top. A couple motorcycles with drivers were waiting for us there. We’d called them the evening before. They lashed our packs to the back of their bikes, and we climbed on. Micah and I on one, and Neil on the other. Micah sat on my lap between me and the driver. I held him securely between my arms. We flew down steep valleys and climbed high over three mountain ranges. Many times, we had to get off and walk up by foot because of deeply rutted muddy areas. As we neared the top of the last mountain, we followed a narrow curve around where we came out into full view of a fertile valley far below us. The clouds, which seemed surprisingly near, were parting in some places, letting the dawn of morning stream through which shone down into the fertile green valley in shafts of golden light. I gasped in awe at the sight which laid out before us, even while I gripped the driver tight along with Micah, holding on for dear life as we descended the last mountain, praying for safety under my breath and all the while wondering what eight-year-old gets these kinds of experiences! I pondered how God would use these moments in his life. At the end of that motorcycle ride we met a bus which would begin our two-day trip back to the city. We have been back in the city for a little over a week now. I’ve mulled over the trip many times in my mind thinking about the blessings and the challenges. On one hand I’m excited about what God will do. He is always at work. On the other hand, I faced some realities that will be difficult. The lack of quiet privacy that I so value, the absence of fans and electricity that gets me through the heat of the day and helps me sleep at night. The knowledge that the food in the village is much different than what we are used to and the lack of variety. The reality that travelling in and out of the village takes stamina and strength, whether it be by bus, boat or motorcycle. Knowing that we’ll be away from larger health care facilities. And finally, gearing ourselves up for yet another move just sounds exhausting. As with our other moves, we have entered the period of the “lasts.” The last time I will see this, or the day we will have to say goodbye. The sound of our voices echoing off empty walls always brings back that familiar dread of transition. The other day we bought some coconuts at the market. Micah looked up at me with a big grin and asked, “Mom, can I have the water from it?” “Of course!” I replied. There are some things we really enjoy about living here in this city. One of those things are the coconuts that grow along the coast. The coconut peas I serve over rice, the coconut milk I grate and squeeze by hand, and the lazy hot afternoons spent on the front porch carving out coconut flesh. For the remainder of our walk home I began mourning the loss of coconuts as there’s not a lot of coconut trees on the shores of the lake. Then I remembered our previous move and the things that would become our new favorites. Back then it had been the avocado tree in our yard, the baby chicks and their mother’s proud strut as she led them around our courtyard. The view of the mountains surrounded by lush greenery-all seen from our front doorway. The new friends we made. All would not have been experienced had we not let go of the things back home or in the city. New experiences, new opportunities to grow as an individual and as a family. New depths to trust God in. In this new transition from city to village we are reminded again to let go of those mourned for things, to grab onto that which we cannot see, that which God has prepared for us. It is a difficult thing to exchange a tangible well planned out life with grocery stores, a neat and tidy schedule, and a house humming with electricity for a life filled with the unseen, the unexperienced, and the unknown. A life of casting ourselves ever more into him out of necessity. A life of finding fulfillment not in what can please the senses, but in following the Savior into whatever role he would have for us. As I’ve struggled to enter into the unknown and a life without modern convenience, I recently came across 1 John 2:15-17, which reads: “Do not love this world not the things it offers you, for when you love the world, you do not have the love of the Father in you. For the world offers only a craving for physical pleasure, a craving for everything we see, and pride in our achievements and possessions. These are not from the Father but are from this world. And this world is fading away, along with everything that people crave.” (NLT) So, we are pleading with God to change our desires and cravings. Give us vision for the Kisi people, give us passion and love for our future neighbors, and give us the ability to forgive each other and ourselves when we mess up. We look forward to a new kingdom and a day when there will be no more goodbyes, no more transitions, where the weak will no longer suffer. This hope gives us strength. Now I saw a new heaven and new earth, for the first earth had passed away. Also, there was no more sea. Then I, John, saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from heaven saying, ‘Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people. God Himself will be with them and be their God. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.’ Then He who sat on the throne said, ‘Behold I make all things new.’ - Revelation 21:1-5 Little gods all lined up,
Screaming at you as you wake up. Innocent as they might seem, Lulling you into a bad dream. If you let them soon they’ll start, Taking little bites out of your heart. They won’t stop until their done, Leaving you heartless and numb. If you feel it there’s still time, Though uphill you’ll have to climb. Smashing idols sounds like fun, But you’ll need help from someone. Someone made you out of dust, He’s the one that you must trust. Breathed life into you from above, He’ll heal your heart with his own love. One heart is all you’ve got, And with his blood that heart’s been bought. When you wake up remember him, Give him your heart, his song you'll sing. The old shepherd sat on a rock, looking out across the barren landscape. He shielded his eyes from the glaring sun and turned his head to keep the wind from blowing grains of sand into his face. He looked out again, scanning the hillside for his flock. Large boulders and small bushes dotted the landscape, with occasional tufts of grass growing where the topsoil had been eroded away. His flock was spread out across the hillside, diligently searching for the greenest blades of grass. A mountain towered above him and his flock, its shadow inching toward him as the day wore on. His mind started to wander; he hadn’t always been a shepherd in this remote wilderness.
He thought back to the day he’d first arrived in this desert. He’d been on the run, carrying little more than the clothes on his back. He remembered how thirsty he’d been after walking through that barren country. That day he had called out to a God whom he didn’t really know. It’s true he had some vague memories of his mother telling him stories about this God, she had said that He was the one their ancestors had worshiped. But he hadn’t seen his mother in years. Even so, this God was somehow different than the gods he had been raised with after being adopted into his new family. Maybe that was why when he really needed help that fatal day he had called out to Him, and He had answered and led him to a well there in the desert. There, he had met his future wife, the one who was now the mother of his children. He smiled to himself as he thought of how simple events could forever change a person’s history. He was thankful that he’d found a family to take him in, though at first he’d had his doubts about their hospitality. When he arrived at the well that day, he’d found some other shepherds harassing her. Never afraid of a fight, he’d fought them off and helped her water her flock. Then she’d just left him there at the well, wondering where he would sleep that night. He remembered feeling relieved when she came back later and invited him to her father’s house. Now, she was his wife and the mother of his children. His mind drifted to his kids. How different their childhood was from his own. He’d been raised on some of the finest foods in the world, prepared by servants and served on elegant dishes, complete with flavorful seasonings. He had watched the most famous entertainers perform and had rubbed shoulders with celebrities. He’d studied in the best schools and under the most qualified teachers anywhere in the world, yet his sons already knew more about shepherding than he did when he first arrived at this far off corner of the world. Its true they’d never been entertained like he had, and that they ate meat from their livestock cooked over open fires, served with sour milk, and their palates had never tasted the rich variety of foods that had been so common to him when he was their age. His mind continued to wander. He didn’t miss those foods anymore; he’d already grown accustomed to the simplicity of his new life. Yet, there was still something unsettling within him. The memory of his mother’s God would not die away. Was this the same God as his father in law’s God? They did share a common ancestor. But deep down, he knew he was different. All throughout his life, he’d wondered what his purpose was. He’d never really fit in back in the country where he was raised, despite his adoptive family’s efforts. But when he’d tried to help out his mother’s people, they had rejected him and tried to turn him into the authorities. Now, in this wilderness, he’d found a home with a new family, but even yet, he still somehow felt like an outsider. “God, who are you and what do you want with me?” Suddenly, as he sat there, the sound of crackling brought him back to the present. He looked out again across the hillside, and there, tucked away underneath the mountain, was a bush which had burst into flame… A few lines scratched in the dirt, a couple of towels, old shirts, or rags, and the kids are ready to play. For the time being, we’re staying at a guest house, and the back yard is full of banana trees, papaya trees, a fishpond, gardens, chickens, ducks, a couple cows, and clotheslines filled with drying clothes. It all makes for a good game of capture the flag, as there are plenty of hiding spots allowing for a fair amount of sneaking, but still enough open space to be able run. Like most games, there’s a certain amount of strategy involved, and the kids are always trying to get the grownups to play. There’s been a few times where they’ve succeeded, and sometimes it’s me who joins in.
Sometimes, I don’t pay attention to the little things, things like what the flag is. I know the object of the game, and I know all the rules to the game. I’m a little faster than most of the kids, and a bit sneakier. Yet is seems that every time I overlook this one little detail of the game (what we’re using for the flag), I never end up finding the flag, no matter how fast or sneaky I am. I’ll sneak around the back of the house, undetected. I’ll move over to the banana trees, scouting out the area. I’ll see several old rags, draped over a branch here or a tree there. I look across the garden to the clothesline. It’s full of towels, rags, and old shirts. I start to calculate the odds of picking out the right one, then I’m detected. I run back to safety, no closer to getting the flag than I was before. Recently I got the chance to visit a neighboring country. While I was there, I met many different people from different countries who had a lot of experience playing a whole different kind of game. I met people who had experience ministering in cross cultural contexts. I met other people who had experience working in their own cultural context. They discussed together the object, the different factors, and some of the details of ministry. I felt privileged to be there and to be able to learn from their experiences. I was reminded that it’s important to know what the flag is, to know what we’re aiming for and what steps we’re taking to get there, in order to accomplish our objective. I was encouraged that even when things look impossible, like Moses we can see the invisible as we walk by faith holding on to what God has said in the Scriptures. While I was there, I also visited a couple villages. Square mud huts with thatched roofs, spaced out with fields of beans, corn, and cassava in between them. We followed the narrow dirt road across creeks, cutting a straight line through the fields, then finally split off from the road onto an even narrower path leading to a cul-de-sac at the edge of a village. We were met by two families from the team there who prepared dinner for us, and although they didn’t speak English or Swahili, we were able to communicate with them through our translator. Later, their western co-workers arrived, and the next day they took us around the village. They showed us the translation work the team has done, and we got to see the translation being used in several places. One of these places was a small mud brick building with its thatched grass roof overhanging the entrance. We ducked down and stepped inside were met by a small crowd already gathered inside. They sat on wooden benches, but they had brought in plastic chairs just for us. We sat down, our eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering in through the small windows. One of the crowd, a teacher, sat in front and read from Luke 16. Some questions and discussion followed, all in their native language. The teacher had taught himself to read, but not everyone is able to do that, especially those who don’t already know how to read in the trade language. But the team was trying to help with that. The next day we walked into another dimly lit brick building, this one with a blackboard at the front. Next to the blackboard stood a young teacher holding a stick and pointing to the letters on the board. Facing him sat a group of around ten students, sitting on wooden benches. “Mwo, wo, wu, wi…” the voices of the students joined in unison as they repeated what the teacher pointed to with his stick. This was just one of several groups who are learning how to read and write. Several of the students have already gone on to read whatever materials available, including the translation of the Scriptures. The teacher himself had just learned how to read less than a year prior, and now he is teaching others. After visiting the class, it was time to say goodbye to the team we’d just met, but we left feeling encouraged having learned a little more of what the flag could look like. Another day, another trip to another village. This village was dotted with clean, neat square houses with hip style thatched roofs overhanging the mud brick walls by about four feet on all sides and held up by wooden poles. This overhang covered a patio area which extended around each house. In between the houses were fields made of light sandy soil ideal for growing cassava but not a whole lot else. Upon our arrival, we were welcomed into a guest house where we got cleaned up and ate dinner. The next day we went out to meet with some of the people from the village. First, we met with some kings who told us about the time when the team first came. They told us how they had moved in and sought help in learning their language, and how they had provided people to help them learn. Later, we met with a teacher and a translator, and they told us how they learned how to read, and how they now teach others in the same way. They also explained to us the process of how they translate, and all the steps and people involved. Later that same afternoon, we went and visited a group of people gathered under the shade of a large tree and sitting barefoot on straw matts. One of them sitting in the middle read from a small booklet, a portion translated from the first book of Moses. Others took turns reading as well, and they discussed briefly what they read. When the teaching was finished, they held out their hands and took turns talking to God asking him to help a sick woman in their midst. This was just one of several small groups there who have learned through the Scriptures how they can talk with God. The team there now is mostly made of locals, and despite setbacks and challenges, they want to continue teaching and translating and bringing the Scriptures to others. We spent another night in the village, and the next morning it was time to leave again and begin our trip back home. Here, I’d learned yet a little more of what the flag could look like, and that while some of the surrounding factors and details may not all be the same from place to place, the objective doesn’t change. Since then, I’m back at the guest house, reunited with my family. Just like in capture the flag, I’m seeing how knowing your surroundings in ministry is important, knowing your team is important, knowing what the flag is is important (what you’re aiming to do), having a strategy helps, and of course knowing the objective is important. Things like speed and sneakiness are only important if the other things are in place. And despite all the strategy in the world, if we can’t see the invisible and fix our eyes on Him, it’s not going to amount anything. Listen as the earth cries out,
Put your ear down hear it shout. What once was brown now starts to sprout, It calls out for a crown, What's it all about? The barren earth, dusty and dry Just like my heart, Listen to it's cry. Where did it start? What's the reason why? As it all falls apart, Am I left to die? Dry as sand and hard as rock, Cracked to pieces, under lock Out of the ground as hard as stone, A plant sprouts up, I'm not alone. It reaches up, in the wind it's blown, It doesn't break till it's all grown. There's talk of justice, talk of love, Righteousness, sent from above. Fulfillment of promise, When push came to shove, Covered by the wings of a dove. The roots reach in, penetrating Exposing all my secret sin. Breaking ground, The lost is found, A new feeling, I'm coming round The broken branch, broken no more, The earth knows what you have in store. In the wall you've made a door, You picked me right up off the floor. Some say that you're to far away, For you to ever hear me pray. They said you're too much Deity To ever care for you and me. Who told them that I'll never know, They listened to their hearts of woe. Shut out the sound of earth and sea, Amongst themselves they couldn't agree. They fought for power and control, Their own glory strove to show. Used to call out in the night, But didn't bother in the day. Didn't see a wrong to be made right, Thought that they were made that way. Won't give up without a fight, Against the wind it's hard to sway, The current carries me away. Hold on! Hold on! The branch does say, Come on in into the light, In the darkness please don't stay! The light, shine it on me bright, Mold me just like you mold clay, Take me from a place of fright, I'll soar with you in perfect flight. One day soon the birds will sing. And in my ears this song will ring, A song of greatness of the King, Justice, love, kindness he'll bring. Righteous, He'll encompass everything. January 23rd,
Today was the day we thought we'd be saying our goodbyes and heading back overseas. Our goal was to get back, begin forming a team, and start planning our next and hopefully permanent move to where we would begin learning our next language in order to translate and teach. Yet, plans change, as they often do. We've had to put these plans on hold for at least another few months, Now we're hoping to travel in late Spring. So instead of saying goodbyes and boarding airplanes, we spent the day resting trying to recover from a nasty flu bug we each picked up last week, making a puzzle, and staying home from school (Micah's first snow day). While we may feel some mixed emotions, such as disappointment, relief, you name it, God is still teaching us that it doesn't matter where we are, he'll be right there with us. As someone else who learned this lesson once said, "for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content." "For He Himself has said, I will never leave you nor forsake you." "In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." “Fish and chips, onions and garlic,
our mouths are salivating! All we have is simple manna, Moses, can’t you do something?” “God, what did I do to deserve this? I can’t take it anymore. Why don't they go find another, how did I end up their mother?” “Go get ready for some dinner, you’ll eat meat for thirty days.” “But God, maybe you don’t realize, we've got a lot of mouths to feed. Even counting all our livestock, I still think that more we'd need." “Jesus, don't you see the time? Don't you see it's getting late. Everyone is getting hungry, How long will they have to wait?" "Why don't you go buy them dinner, Maybe you could find some bread?" "Did you hear what Jesus said? He wants us to buy them bread. If we worked for half a year, I still don't think that we would clear." "Hey Jesus, I just found someone He has bread and fish with him, Five loaves and two fish to be exact, But I think we'll need more than that!" Lord, What exactly are you doing? I'd like to know my whereabouts, The disciples faith was growing, Yet even Moses had his doubts, I remember all you’ve done, But each new day I have to eat. You’re the God who stopped the sun Who made our enemies retreat. You were stronger than the Pharaoh, The water listened to your voice, Yet your eye is on the sparrow, Now you leave me with a choice. I've seen your beautiful creation, And you've given me your Word, So when I come across temptation, To believe just what I see, Lord, Remind me all I've heard, I choose dinner, you and me. "You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies." - Psalm 23.5 |