Grandma's Letters From Africa: Quaint I Ain't

I had no idea what memories that day would create

2012-02-22T12:29:00.000-06:00

To recap: Our friends and coworkers, Marvin and Joyce, asked us to join them for a two-day cultural celebration among the Suba people on Mfangano Island, near the east shore of Lake Victoria, where Bible translation was taking place.

“…Our six-seater plane lifted off the tarmac at tiny Wilson Airport in Nairobi, and we set out toward the northwest and Mfangano Island, some three hundred miles away.

“Since Wilson borders Nairobi’s game park, we watched out our windows for giraffes, buffalos, or antelopes.

“Before long, we approached the east fork of the Great Rift Valley. The morning sun’s rays created shadows along the Valley’s ridges, like stair steps, and accentuated the way the earth pulls apart kidogo, kidogo (little by little) year after year.”

“In the highlands beyond the Valley, we flew over hillsides and dales, green from recent rains. Small family-owned farms, shambas, dotted the landscape. Through our windows, in every direction, we saw thatch-roofed huts, stick-and-mud, the same color as the orange soil. Farmers’ crops, laid out in tidy squares, looked like a bright green and orange checkerboard.”

“And then we saw it—Lake Victoria!—stretched out before us, wide and flat and shiny in the sunshine. It looked almost as big as an ocean. Marvin told us to watch for Mfangano Island off the lake’s east shore.” (from Grandma’s Letters from Africa, Chapter 7)

I could not foresee the adventures, sights, smells, tastes, and sounds awaited me.

I could not imagine the sensations, joys—and stresses—that day would hold.

I had no idea what memories that day would create.

What would YOU have done? Part 2

2012-02-15T13:48:00.000-06:00

Continuing with What would YOU have done?

Would I sleep on the floor

in a home in which rats would share that floor?

I had read in the local newspaper

about children with scarred toes

because rats nibbled at them while they slept.

What should I do? What would I do?

Last week I asked, What would YOU have done? Would you have stayed on Mfangano Island and slept on the floor with rats? Or would you have risked offending the Suba people by opting to stay on the mainland in a modern facility?

I appreciate comments several of you left. Penny was right-on when she said that spending the night in their homes would mean so much to them—more than most North Americans comprehend: Hospitality is much more important in the African culture.

Sarah left the funniest comment: “I’D STAY! And I’d flank myself with the kids or girls or something.” (Check out dear Sarah and her blog, The Yellow Dress. Also, this week one of her most-shared blog posts, “They Don’t Understand,” was published at Women of the Harvest blog.)

When I pondered the decision, perhaps something from deep in the far corners of my memory subtly suggested that because I’d swallowed chicha, I’d already paid my dues when it came to earthy perplexing mysterious exotic cross-cultural stuff. (Click here for a link to that otherworldly moment.)

Well, anyway, Marvin, Joyce, Dave, and I had to decide. We had a brief, awkward conversation with clumsy pauses and unfinished sentences.

In the end, we decided we’d take a small, hand-hewn wooden boat to the mainland and spend the night at a dudu research institute. Yes we did. Dudu, to North American ears, might sound about as icky as sleeping with rats, until you learn that dudu means insect in Swahili. We chose the dudu research institute.

Ah, but “People may make plans in their minds, but the Lord decides what they will do” (Proverbs 16:9, NCV).

We had no idea that despite our plans and our druthers, we might want to sleep with rats after all.

To be continued.…

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What would YOU have done?

2012-02-08T11:14:00.000-06:00

Our friends Marvin and Joyce asked us to join them for a two-day cultural celebration among the Suba people on Mfangano Island, near the east shore of Lake Victoria, where Bible translation was taking place.

Marvin, who had traveled there before, said he’d arrange our flight, but he wanted the four of us to decide ahead of time where to stay overnight. We could stay with a Suba family, he said, or we could take a small boat to the mainland and stay at a research institute.

I wondered why we’d want to stay on the mainland instead of the island—until Marvin explained the Subas believe it’s a blessing to have a rat in one’s home. In fact, it’s more than a blessing. It’s a must. If a house doesn’t have a rat, they tear it down. (Grandma’s Letters from Africa, Chapter 7)

Only a few months earlier, my husband, Dave, and I completed our orientation to living in Africa. For three months, we had listened to lectures on the importance of appreciating and respecting and honoring the cultures of our host nations.

We learned the importance of not offending our host country’s people—our new coworkers.

During our orientation, we learned to stretch our thinking and scrutinize our assumptions.

We had opportunities to stand back and examine our American ways.

And when we did so, many times the African ways seemed better than ours.

Often Dave and I said to each other, “We Americans have much to learn from Africans.”

So now, with an invitation to stay overnight in a Suba home, the time had come to apply all that to real life: Would I sleep on the floor in a home in which rats would share that floor?

I had read in the local newspaper about children with scarred toes because rats nibbled at them while they slept.

At first, their belief made no sense, but I suppose the real blessing is having food in the house, and the evidence of that blessing is the rat’s interest in being there. However, to my way of thinking, a rat is not a blessing—it is a rat. (Grandma’s Letters from Africa, Chapter 7)

What should I do? What would I do?

What would you have done? Would you have slept on the floor with rats? Or would you have risked offending the Suba people by opting to stay on the mainland in a modern facility?

The most unlikely people can be God’s answer to prayer

2012-02-01T11:17:00.000-06:00

Grab a handful of tissues and read on:

Friday, the day after I posted True hunger is—

I read a heart-pounding, tear-inducing story

from World Concern,

a ministry dear to my heart

(a story I want to share with you sometime).

It was a perfect follow-up for True hunger is.

It shows that the most unlikely people

—because they are the most needy—

can be God’s answer to the pleas and prayers

of those who are starving.

“This week we received a donation of $60,” writes Cathy Herholdt of World Concern, a Christian ministry that provides emergency food, medicine, and water for families affected by famine.

“While that [relatively small donation] might not seem worthy of its own blog post, it is,” she said. “Trust me.”

Women of Hope International had sent the check—which seemed unusual to Cathy because WOH is a nonprofit humanitarian agency in Sierra Leone, West Africa, that helps needy women with severe disabilities.

Why, Cathy wondered, would WOH send World Concern money instead of using it for their own needs?

This question led Cathy to call Kim Kargbo, WOH’s Director, for the answer.

Cathy learned that most of these women are beggars living on less than a dollar a day. Most are illiterate. Some are crippled, some are blind.

In recent years, Sierra Leone has been torn apart by war.

These women have witnessed the murder and mutilation of tens of thousands of people.

They’ve watched the destruction of crops, health clinics, and schools.

More than two million of them have been forced into refugee camps.

On top of that, the WHO women suffer with a variety of physical disabilities—many were “thrown away” by parents or abandoned by husbands. According to the WOH website, “They have no place in society, no common ground, and nowhere to call their own.”

WOH addresses the women’s physical, emotional, economic, social, and spiritual needs. It offers them a safe place to heal, regain their dignity, and learn to support themselves and their families.

In November, Kim told the WOH women about the ongoing famine in Somalia. Because of limited educational opportunities, some had never heard of Somalia so Kim showed them World Concern’s Eyewitness to the Famine video online.

They also discussed 1 Kings 17 in which a widow, suffering in a severe drought, was gathering a few sticks to cook what she expected would be her last meal and, she said, “then my son and I will die.”

At that moment, Elijah arrived and asked her for food. Can you imagine what thoughts must have gone through that poor dear’s tormented mind and heart?

But that impoverished, hopeless widow gave all she had—because Elijah promised God would provide for her. She put her trust in God and His mysterious ways, and He did, indeed, meet her needs.

In Sierra Leone, those WOH women could relate to the widow in the Bible as well as those in the Eyewitness to the Famine video—they knew all about hunger and malnutrition. They knew all about refugee camps in their own devastated country.

But they also knew—from experience—that God can provide in the most unlikely times and ways.

Cathy tells what happened next:

“Kim asked them a question. ‘If any of you didn’t eat today, would you die?’ They all shook their heads, no. They might be hungry, they said, but they wouldn’t die. ‘Well, some of these [Somali] people, if they don’t eat today, will die,’ she said. ‘Do you think there’s anything you could do to help?’”

They answered yes, pointing out that even if they donated only a few coins, they could help a little. Then Kim stepped forward and told them that WOH would match whatever they offered.

Cathy continues:

“The women returned a month later … and had raised a bit of money, but not much. They wanted to do more. So they decided to take an offering that night. What happened next was amazing.

“About 50 women came forward to give. One by one, they lined up—blind women being led by the hands of children, and others in wheelchairs—to drop their few coins in a cardboard box.” (Click here to see a picture.)

Those dear souls collected $30. With WOH’s matching gift, they sent $60 to World Concern!

“‘I know it’s not much,’ Kim said when I spoke with her on the phone,” Cathy says.

“‘Oh, but it is,’ I said. We’ve been asking donors to give $60 to provide emergency food rations, access to clean water, and long-term assistance to a family affected by the famine.

“‘It’s perfect.”

Perfect, indeed!

I hope you’ll join me in praising God for those dear women in faraway Sierra Leone. Pray with me that God will provide for those impoverished, hopeless women in the same way He did for the widow who gave, for Jesus said,

“Give and you will receive. You will be given much. It will be poured into your hands—more than you can hold. You will be given so much that it will spill into your lap. The way you give to others is the way God will give to you.” (Luke 6:38, New Century Version)

Let us never doubt the truth of these words, spoken by a man who knows—because he has seen it over and over again:

“God can do so much with just one person

who is willing

to respond to His call.

What He asks is not that we possess great skill

or ability or fame.

Instead, He simply asks

for us to be willing to be used by Him.

Whether that results in

the liberation of nations or racial groups,

or whether it means that one child can go to school,

saying ‘yes’ to God changes the world.”

Rich Stearns, President of World Vision

True hunger is—

2012-01-26T10:43:00.000-06:00

.

“The proper definition of the word ‘hunger’ is ‘a compelling need or desire for food’ or ‘the painful sensation or state of weakness caused by the need for food.’ I recognize that my hunger,” says Michele Tvedt, “pales in light of what others go through, and the endless access I have to food is abnormal compared to the majority of the globe.”

Writing on the World Vision Blog, Michele continues:

“True hunger, especially at a young age, leads to a lack of brain development, an unhealthy heart, cracked skin that leads to infections, and weak bones that prevent proper growth.

“True hunger means making the painful choice of entering into the sex trade to provide for your family, or watching your family slowly get weaker and weaker.

“True hunger is an upstanding, honest man stealing maize from his neighbor to fill the bellies of his children.

“True hunger is a child unable to focus at school because of the weakness and dizziness pounding through her body. Or a child unable to go to school because he must beg for food on the streets instead.…”

According to World Vision, 13.3 million people have been affected by the drought in East Africa: Somalia, Kenya, Ethiopia, and Tanzania.

In Somalia, 53 percent of the population—4 million people—are in crisis: a child dies every six minutes.

Millions more are at risk.

But it’s not just East Africa that’s suffering. A few days ago Deb, blogging at Avec Deux Mains, told of the severe food crisis in Niger, West Africa, where she lives and works.

When I worked in Africa, my job took me to Niger for about a week and my heart aches when I think of the acute suffering there now.

The problem is twofold: food shortages combined with increasing violence carried out by militants in the nation to the south, Nigeria. You’ve probably heard about this in the news lately.

According to the BBC News, the cereal harvest took a blow from both drought and pests in much of the Sahel region, a semi-arid band along the Sahara Desert’s southern edge “… but it is Niger—one of the world’s poorest nations with chronically high levels of child malnutrition—that has the largest number of vulnerable children.

“The European Union’s Commissioner for Humanitarian Aid, Kristalina Georgieva called it ‘a race against time.’ She said that because of the poor harvest the traditional hunger season was expected to start in February or March rather than two months later.”

She urged, “If we act quickly to protect the most vulnerable we can prevent a catastrophe from happening.”

Can you help? Do you know others who can help?

Here’s what’s so sad: We all waited too long to help in East Africa a few months ago.

In “Slow Response to East Africa famine ‘cost lives,’” BBC reports:

“Thousands of needless deaths occurred from famine in East Africa last year because the international community failed to heed early warnings, say two leading British aid organizations.

“Oxfam and Save the Children say it took more than six months for aid agencies to act on warnings of imminent famine.

“Between 50,000 and 100,000 people have died in Kenya, Ethiopia and Somalia.

“The agencies say governments, donors, the United Nations, and NGOs need to learn from the mistakes.” (Read more at “Slow Response to East Africa famine ‘cost lives.’”)

Read about babies left to die alongside the road at “Horn of Africa Drought: Survival of the Fittest.”

See BBC pictures at “Combating Drought in the Horn of Africa.”

How can you help? I hope and pray you’ll look into participating with one of these organizations already on the ground in Africa:

World Vision

World Concern

“God can do so much with just one person

who is willing to respond to His call.

What He asks is not that we possess great skill

or ability or fame.

Instead, He simply asks

for us to be willing to be used by Him.

Whether that results in the liberation of nations

or racial groups,

or whether it means that one child can go to school,

saying ‘yes’ to God changes the world.”

Rich Stearns, President of World Vision

Do you know someone who could help? If so, see the little square box below with the “f” in it? Click on that and this post will show up on your Facebook wall! Try clicking on those other little gray and white boxes, too, and you can e-mail this, share to Twitter, Google Buzz, or +1.

“If life held more challenges, it also unfolded new pleasures.”

2012-01-24T09:58:00.000-06:00

This time of year, a number of people are taking the biggest leap of faith in their lives: Young and old, many are preparing to go overseas to the mission field, maybe for a few months, maybe for a few years.

And, oh! Thinking of those people brings back so many memories for me!

When I recall the newness, the scariness, the disorientation of letting go of everything familiar and getting started on the mission field, I think of Joshua and the Israelites when they set out for the Jordan: “You have never been this way before” (Joshua 3:4).

With that in mind, you’ll marvel at this excerpt from Through the Outhouse Floor by Barbara Thomas. As you read about her arrival in Africa and the beginning of her three-month orientation, you’ll see that God brought them challenges, but He also handed them new pleasures:

When I first thought of Phase One of our orientation and Limbamba Bible College, I naively had in mind a quadrant of red brick buildings with paved sidewalks winding their way through smooth green lawns under shady trees. The college, as it turned out, consisted of several cement-block buildings roofed with tin.… Classrooms were unadorned except for utilitarian wooden desks and benches. They had no windows except for a latticework made by gaps in the cement bricks. The cafeteria was little more than a cement rain shelter filled with picnic tables. Had I been more a veteran and less inclined to measure the world by American standards, I would have given thanks for the cement floor, running water, flush toilets and electricity.…

The cook introduced us to the kitchen … “These basins contain the water filters. Use only these jugs when you want drinking water. Whenever the market team purchases fruits and vegetables, they are soaked in these buckets with potassium permanganate. If the water is purple, it’s still good. When the water turns brown, use more permanganate. All dishes must be rinsed and all silverware dunked in boiling water.”

… Slowly we adjusted to this different life. The ants, the mosquitoes, fly bites, our resident rat, screens with holes, and leaking roofs faded into the backdrop scene of our lives.

Yes, moving to the mission field can be uncomfortable, especially at first.

A few words come to my mind:

Vulnerability.

Unpredictability.

Maybe even panic.

Being out of control and at the mercy of something (or Someone) larger and stronger than you.

But, Barbara continues:

If life held more challenges, it also unfolded new pleasures. We tasted football-sized papaya with lime juice, mangoes, fresh pineapple and sweet bananas. We sacked on corn roasted over a charcoal fire and sucked peeled sugar cane.

The inland weather was surprisingly comfortable. Temperatures rose to the mid-80s, with breezes. The clouds built up in the afternoon and the humidity pressed down, until four o’clock when like clockwork, every spigot in the sky opened and the rain pounded on the tin roofs. An hour later the rain suddenly stopped and the sun reappeared.

One of our greatest pleasures was gazing up at the equatorial African night sky. No outdoor lighting interfered. No tall building obstructed the view. The stars of the Southern hemisphere shined in all their brilliance and multitude. We recognized the Big Dipper and Orion as old friends from the north, and then turning south, beheld the Southern Cross.” (Barbara Thomas, Through the Outhouse Floor; emphasis mine)

If you are getting ready to move to the mission field—if you are taking a wild, screaming, blind leap of faith—keep in mind words God spoke to Moses, precious words that make all the difference. He said, “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest” (Exodus 33:14).

And remember: Your life will hold more challenges, but watch for all the ways God unfolds glorious new pleasures!

Through the Outhouse Floor is available as a Kindle ebook and in paperback.

Below is a page from my scrapbook showing a scene from my orientation to Africa:

A very, very small role in the ministry of Bible translation

2012-01-19T11:49:00.000-06:00

A couple of times recently I’ve mentioned that my husband and I felt both honored and humbled to play very small roles in the ministry of Bible translation. Here’s a story that will shed light on what I mean:

Todro, Democratic Republic of Congo. The nation was at war. Few vehicles traveled the roads that remained and, because of limited commerce, people suffered an acute shortage of food and medicine.

But even during that time of war, a colorful group gathered: the Logo people, almost all the pastors from the entire region, and top church leaders—over a thousand in all. It was a Sunday afternoon and crowds waited under tarps, umbrellas, and trees, seeking shelter from hot African sun.

Soon a truck appeared carrying precious cargo: heavy boxes of the Gospel of Luke, newly translated into the Logoti language, as well as newly-published hymnals.

With boisterous singing, flowers, and waving palm fronds, the people of Todro welcomed the books and those who brought them, Bible translators (and colleagues of mine), Doug and Beth Wright.

The jubilant Logo people formed a human chain to pass the boxes from the truck to an office building so they could place the treasured books into the hands of pastors inside.

Doug, however, noticed the layer of dust that had gathered on the boxes during their three-day road trip and hurried to wipe them off before they reached the dressed-up pastors.

He shouldn’t have worried. "We're happy to have these," they said, delighted to be receiving the first printed Scripture book for the Logo people.

And that was the start of a four-hour dedication ceremony and celebration among the Logos. The service focused on God’s faithfulness to three Logo translators, Akudhi, Aguma and Atake, and to Doug and Beth, all of whom endured numerous challenges during the translation process.

By that evening, hundreds of people had bought copies of both Luke and the songbooks and they sat around the fire singing worship songs in their very own language.

Absent from the celebration that day was the area’s oldest pastor, home-bound due to a dislocated hip, so Doug took a copy of Logoti Luke to him.

When Doug arrived, Pastor Madrangi, over 90 years of age, shuffled outside for a visit under the thatch of his veranda.

Doug handed him Logoti Luke and waited.

Pastor Madrangi sat silently, his eyes sparkling, for what seemed like a long time.

Eventually he smiled, and finally he spoke, almost laughing. “It’s really true. God has given us His Word before I die!”

You see, when this elderly man was just a small boy, he started praying that, before he died, God would give him Scriptures in his own language.

And so, after Bible translation began among his people, over the years Pastor Madrangi faithfully encouraged the Logo translators, Akudhi, Aguma, and Atake. He often stopped in at the translation office and said, “I just came to pray.”

He encouraged Doug Wright, too, throughout the painstaking, tedious process of checking countless important details such as consistent use of key Biblical terms. Many times, Doug persevered because of Pastor Madrangi’s quiet encouragement and because Doug knew how much he longed to have Scriptures in his own language, the language of his heart, the language he understood best.

And so, on that day, out on his verandah, under the thatch, at the moment when Doug handed him his copy of Logoti Luke, God answered Pastor Madrangi’s prayers—probably at least 75 years of prayers. No wonder he was left speechless!

Right now you might be asking, “So, Linda, what does this story have to do with your role on the mission field?”

Here’s the answer: My husband, Dave, started a school for MKs (missionary kids), and Doug and Beth Wright’s daughter, Sarah, was one of the students. In that way, Dave played a small role that helped keep the Wrights on the mission field and that, in turn, enabled the translation of Logoti Luke.

My role was even more indirect because I did not officially work in the Children’s Ed realm (some other day I’ll tell you more about my job), but let me assure you: unofficially, I worked really, really hard to help establish that new MK school!

So I hope that now you have a better idea of what I mean when I say that I felt both honored and humbled to play a very small role in the ministry of Bible translation.

“A song of Africa”

2012-01-17T10:30:00.000-06:00

“If I know a song of Africa,

of the giraffe

and the African new moon lying on her back,

of the plows in the fields

and the sweaty faces of the coffee pickers,

does Africa know a song of me?

Will the air over the plain

quiver with a color that I have had on,

or the children invent a game in which my name is,

or the full moon

throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive

that was like me,

or will the eagles of the Ngong Hills look out for me?"

Isak Dinesen, Out of Africa

“I thought I knew the Christmas story by heart, but....”

2012-01-12T12:04:00.000-06:00

“A row of teenage girls stared at each other in wide-eyed wonder and then dissolved into a group hug. Eyes glistened with tears. As the last word was read, a spontaneous cheer erupted.…”

That scene occurred on the Cape Verde Islands off the coast of West Africa during my final Christmas in Africa.

What had caused such amazement, such jubilation?

It was the first Sunday in December, and the church pastor began his sermon as he always did.

“Our reading will be from Luke 2, verses 1 through 7,” he announced.

But he had a big surprise for his congregation.

Instead of reading the Christmas story in the nation’s official language, Portuguese, he read from a copy only recently translated into the congregation’s mother tongue, Kabuverdianu.

A highly trained translation team from that very congregation had worked hard to make it ready for Christmas.

“The translation team began to sob,” says Bob Creson, President/CEO of Wycliffe U.S.A.

“After the service, a woman who was educated in the official language approached a team member and said that at first she tried to follow along in her Portuguese Bible, but then she decided to close her eyes and just listen as the pastor read in her own language.

“‘I let the words fall over me,’ she said. ‘I thought I knew the Christmas story by heart, but I must confess that today I feel like I’ve heard it for the very first time.’”

That’s what Bible translation all about: providing people with Scriptures in their own language—their mother tongue, their heart language, the language they understand best.

And that’s why my husband and I moved to Africa. We played behind-the-scenes roles but, in our own small ways, we helped make it possible for Bible translation to happen.

Would you like to hear the Christmas story just as the Cape Verdeans heard it that December morning? Click here to listen to an audio version on the AKTB website. Click on the box labeled “Stória di Natal” in the top left corner, and then scroll down and click on “Nasimentu de Jizus (Lύkas 2:1-7).” (PC users: use Internet Explorer as your browser, rather than Firefox.) You’ll also get a good look at the Kabuverdianu language in writing.

Information for this story is courtesy of the Cape Verdean Translation Association.

Read Bob Creson’s original post at TheWordisLife.net.

The Journey Deepens

2012-01-10T10:43:00.000-06:00

A special note to mid-lifers, empty nesters, and baby boomers:

A number of years ago my husband said, “At church they teach us to tithe—give 10 percent—of our money, so why not encourage people to also tithe their professional lives?” In other words, after people have worked, say, thirty years in their careers, how about working three years in a ministry? Great idea!

And, in fact, a number of mid-lifers, empty nesters, and baby boomers—instead of retiring to a life of leisure—are transitioning into ministries, even overseas missions. Most people in this age group have good health, energy, and a wealth of experience and wisdom to share. Many organizations recognize this and actively recruit such people.

Maybe you, too, are ready to try something new, ready to make a difference that really counts. (from the Preface, Grandma’s Letters from Africa)

Perhaps you sense God nudging you toward missions but you don't know where to start. Or maybe you have questions or doubts or worries.

On the other hand, maybe you're ready to go! Maybe you're saying, "Just show me where to sign up!"

Wherever you find yourself, I encourage you to attend The Journey Deepens, a weekend retreat sponsored by The Finishers Project (associated with over 80 sending and mission service organizations) and Mission Next. TJD is also endorsed by In His Image and the Perspectives Study Program.

From TJD's website:

"The weekend consists of worship, large-group teaching sessions, small-group sessions, one-on-one appointment, mission agency interaction with prospective missionaries, and quiet time breakouts. Attendance is intentionally limited to create a personal interaction between individuals, coaches and fellow sojouorners with the Holy Spirit's guidance."

The Dallas area retreat takes place March 16-18 at Mt. Lebanon Retreat and Conference Center in Cedar Hill, Texas.

The Portland area retreat, April 20-22, will take place at Canby Grove Christian Camp and Conference Center in Canby, Oregon.

The Philadelphia area retreat, May 18-20, will happen at Worldwide Evangelization for Christ (WEC) International, Fort Washington, Pennsylvania.

So, what do you say? What are your lifle's goals?

Do you have a burning desire to use your God-given talents and skills in a bolder way?

Will you consider tithing your professional life? If you’ve worked thirty years in your career, how about working three years in a ministry?

Do you sense an urgency? Max Lucado said, "Life is racing by and if we aren't careful, you and I will look up and our shot at it will have passed us by."

"The thought of coming to my old age," said John Piper, "and saying through tears, 'I've wasted it! I've wasted it!' was a fearful and horrible thought to me." (from Don't Waste Your Life)

"Do what you can, with what you have," said George W. Carver, "and do it now."

While it's still fresh in your mind, click over to The Journey Deepens and prayerfully consider how and when and where you can participate.

Make 2012 the year you begin living the best, most rewarding years of your life!

"What if … I did what I could? …

What if I didn’t just think about acting

but actually acted?

What if I didn’t act out of obligation? …

What if I didn’t just wonder

about what difference I could make

but just took a step?"

Elisa Morgan, She Did What She Could

Troubling questions

2012-01-05T09:38:00.000-06:00

In recent days my life has consisted of cough drops, naps, a tight chest, naps, sneezing, naps, lethargy, and naps.

Tylenol, Mentholatum, and Kleenex are my best friends.

In recent days, my life has also consisted of thoughts about people I know in Kenya and others across Africa and around the world, hundreds of thousands—no, millions—who cannot afford Tylenol, Mentholatum, or Kleenex.

Cannot afford a doctor appointment.

Cannot take a day off for frequent naps.

Some might not even have beds or blankets.

I am troubled by questions I asked so many times in Africa and since my return to the US:

Why me? Why should I have such an easy life?

In Africa, I wrote this in a letter to my granddaughter, Maggie:

These people carry the constant burden of worry—worry about violent crime and threats to bulldoze down their neighborhoods. But, most important, will they have food for their children?—money for medical help?

Why has God blessed me with abundant material possessions and the benefits of the modern world but withheld such things from vast numbers of Africans? I’ve searched for answers. My heart aches for so many souls across the continent.

When our friends explain their current crisis and ask for help, sometimes I see dark desperation in their eyes. Too many live always on the edge, always on the brink of malnutrition, clinging to their unadorned, spare existence, fighting against unrelenting poverty. Even with help from Kenyan churches, programs, and organizations, their lives are so fragile, so precarious. I see a flicker of hope in their eyes when we give them a job, money, or food. Our help seems like a small thing, but for them, it is an answer to prayer.

My heart cries out for justice. The Bible says God is good and just, but why do I have so much while many of my Kenyan friends have so little? They’re good, hard-working people who love God and serve Him, and something within me expects that good things should come to them. They must cry out, like David, “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” (Psalm 13:1).

I search Scripture, I pray, and I ponder. What is poverty? What is wealth? Our Maasai friends believe your grandfather lives in poverty—only one wife, only two children, and no cattle.

Who is rich, and who is poor?

Compared to many of our Kenyan friends, your grandpa and I look rich in material goods, but compared to our friends and family back home, our missionary income makes us look poor. And, as poor and desperate as some of our Kenyan friends are, they’re rich compared to millions of people living in places like Zaire and Sudan. It’s all so confusing. (from Chapter 18, Grandma’s Letters from Africa)

It all boils down to this

2012-01-03T19:30:00.000-06:00

What really matters,

when all is said and done,

at the end of the day,

it all boils down to this:

December 26, Boxing Day

2011-12-29T09:30:00.000-06:00

I wrote the following in a letter to my granddaughter, Maggie, after my first Boxing Day in Kenya—a surreal experience because it was my first time stepping into this subculture within the local culture. Everything caught me by surprise, from the food, to the skin color, to the accents.

On the day after Christmas, people in Great Britain celebrate Boxing Day, and here in this former British colony, white Kenyans—people of British or European background who settled here during the colonial period—observe Boxing Day, too, with horse races, ostrich races, and dog shows. They also set up booths and sell food, art, and jewelry.

A couple of our colleagues invited us to the Boxing Day celebration. There, nibbling on strawberries and cream, we found ourselves no longer in the minority—throngs of white people surrounded us.

White Kenyans have their own culture here, separate from that of native Kenyans.… They make up the privileged class. They stick together, smoking and laughing, drinking and partying. Descendants of aristocratic early settlers, they own enormous tracts of land. White Kenyans have their suburban communities, country clubs, doctors, and favorite restaurant hangouts. As far as I can tell, they don’t exclude Africans, but those places tend to be white places.

White Kenyans speak in their clipped, crisp British way—no sloppy enunciations for them! We lazy-mouthed Americans drink “boddled wadder,” but they drink “boTT-l’d WOE-Tah.” We pronounce the word duty as “doody,” but they say “deuty.” We park our cars in a parking lot, but their drivers pull their motor vehicles into a “cah pahk.”

I couldn’t help but notice their customs, speech patterns, and interactions with each other—a study of their unique culture within this culture. (From Chapter 4, Grandma’s Letters from Africa)

Have you ever gone to ostrich races? Click here to see a short, hilarious video clip.

Where you don’t need a gift to know you’re loved

2011-12-27T10:19:00.000-06:00

Ngina Otiende writes fondly of her home, Kenya, East Africa, a place of “warmth, deep family and relational roots. Where I don’t need a gift to know [I] am loved.…”

This year Ngina spent her first Christmas in the U.S. and in a recent blog post she shares memories of childhood Christmases in Africa. I found them endearing, even calming, because of the ways I experienced Christmas in Kenya—they were different from those I experienced at home in the U.S.

Reading Ngina’s post enabled me to step back onto Kenyan soil for a couple of minutes.

She writes of Christmases when her brother, on leave from the army, returned home with “incredibly exotic treats” to eat, “the most delicious and rare meals,” and the family enjoyed nyama choma, big barbecues.

On those Christmases, her mother did not monitor the children’s portions—she didn’t need to because she knew everyone would have enough to eat. Ngina writes that another of her brothers didn’t pester everyone to share their food with him because, on those rare occasions, he got his fill. “O the bliss,” she says.

She writes of doing farm work, gathering firewood, tending cattle, sheep, and goats—but not on Christmas.

“All animals were in their pens on Christmas, no farm work a few days before and after Christmas. We loved Jesus for being born on the day, for giving us a break from all the work.

“Everyone went to church.… And I mean everyone. Even the heathens (those who did not attend the rest of the year).… It was about the birth of Jesus.…

“We did not know that we could send letters to Santa Claus. To us, Santa was just a picture on a coloured gift wrapper [or] decorations for the Christmas tree. We did not even think twice about his existence (he did not exist). If we got gifts, we knew where they came from … [our] parents.

“We did not have a gift-list to present to our parents.… Our parents decided what they would get us. And if they did, it was mostly functional—dresses, trousers and items for the house.… Gifts were not a guarantee. We did not fuss about it, [we] were happy about them and just enjoyed the day.”

Ngina continues, “Most city folk traveled back to the countryside to be with family during this season.… [a] time to meet and see new neighbors, cousins.… People hang out along the roads talking, dropped in each other’s houses, celebrated late into the night. The air was just different during Christmas. Even the cattle rustlers tried to stay away then.”

Ngina’s memories bless—and teach, and remind—this Christmas.

They remind me that in Kenya, minimal commercialism felt refreshing. Modest decorations seemed oh-so-right. I did not miss frantic shopping or pressing crowds that characterized American Christmases. In Kenya, I could focus on the real meaning of Christmas.

Thanks, Ngina. And thanks, Kenya—I learned so much from you! Thank you for teaching me that I don't need a gift to know I'm loved.

I enjoyed reading Ngina’s insights,

as a newly arrived Kenyan,

about American culture.

I hope you’ll take a couple of minutes to read her blog post,

A View of Washington DC.…

I found it very interesting.

Keeping Christmas: Why some missionaries live far from home and loved ones

2011-12-22T10:32:00.000-06:00

I remember the ache, the longing—my six Christmases in Africa and three in South America at the end of the road in the middle of nowhere.

I know the strangeness, the numbness of living on the mission field at Christmas.

And so, this Christmas, my heart embraces missionaries far from home and loved ones.

On December 15, I shared with you Grace Cabalka’s A Christmas prayer for those far from families they love.

December 20, I shared with you Henry Van Dyke’s A Christmas Prayer For Lonely Folks.

Today I share another Henry Van Dyke piece, Keeping Christmas, published in the early 1900s. He captures some of the reasons missionaries are willing to live far from home and loved ones, even on Christmas.

Keeping Christmas

Roman, xiv, 6: He that regardeth the day, regardeth it unto the Lord.

[“He who regards one day as special, does so to the Lord.” Romans 14:6, NIV]

It is a good thing to observe Christmas day. The mere marking of times and seasons, when men agree to stop work and make merry together, is a wise and wholesome custom. It helps one to feel the supremacy of the common life over the individual life. It reminds man to set his own little watch, now and then, by the great clock of humanity which runs on sun time.

But there is a better thing than the observance of Christmas day, and that is, keeping Christmas.

Are you willing to forget what you have done for other people, and to remember what other people have done for you; to ignore what the world owes you, and to think what you owe the world; to put your rights in the background, and your duties in the middle distance, and your chances to do a little more than your duty in the foreground; to see that your fellow-men are just as real as you are, and try to look behind their faces to their hearts, hungry for joy; to own that probably the only good reason for your existence is not what you are going to get out of life, but what you are going to give life; to close your book of complaints against the management of the universe, and look around you for a place where you can sow a few seeds of happiness—are you willing to do these things even for a day? Then you can keep Christmas.

Are you willing to stoop down and consider the needs and the desires of little children; to remember the weakness and loneliness of people who are growing old; to stop asking how much your friends love you, and ask yourself whether you love them enough; to bear in mind the things that other people have to bear on their hearts; to try to understand what those who live in the same house with you really want, without waiting for them to tell you; to trim your lamp so that it will give more light and less smoke, and to carry it in front so that your shadow will fall behind you; to make a grave for your ugly thoughts, and a garden for your kindly feelings, with the gate open—are you willing to do these things even for a day? Then you can keep Christmas.

Are you willing to believe that love is the strongest thing in the world—stronger than hate, stronger than evil, stronger than death—and that the blessed life which began in Bethlehem nineteen hundred years ago is the image and brightness of the Eternal Love? Then you can keep Christmas.

And if you keep it for a day, why not always?

But you can never keep it alone.

(From The Spirit of Christmas by Henry Van Dyke, in the public domain, courtesy of archive.org; emphasis mine.)

A Christmas Prayer For Lonely Folks

2011-12-20T08:03:00.000-06:00

.

“Lord God of the solitary,

Look upon me in my loneliness.

Since I may not keep this Christmas in the home,

Send it to my heart.”

Thus wrote Henry Van Dyke in A Christmas Prayer For Lonely Folks.

My heart and thoughts continue to embrace Grace Cabalka’s words:

“Many of us glamorize missionaries, or think that they are somehow more spiritual than the rest of us, that they've been given extra measures of strength to live in difficult circumstances. Not true….”

So, because I spent a number of Christmases on the mission field, away from home and loved ones…

… and because I know some of you are far from home and lonely this Christmas, I offer the rest of Henry Van Dyke’s prayer:

“Let not my sins cloud me in,

But shine through them with forgiveness in the face of the child Jesus.

Put me in loving remembrance of the lowly lodging in the stable of Bethlehem,

The sorrows of the blessed Mary, the poverty and exile of the Prince of Peace.

For His sake, give me a cheerful courage to endure my lot,

And an inward comfort to sweeten it.

Purge my heart from hard and bitter thoughts.

Let no shadow of forgetting come between me and friends far away:

Bless them in their Christmas mirth:

Hedge me in with faithfulness,

That I may not grow unworthy to meet them again.

Give me good work to do,

That I may forget myself and find peace in doing it for Thee.

Though I am poor, send me to carry some gift to those who are poorer,

Some cheer to those who are more lonely.

Grant me the joy to do a kindness to one of Thy little ones:

Light my Christmas candle at the gladness of an innocent and grateful heart.

Strange is the path where Thou leadest me:

Let me not doubt Thy wisdom, nor lose Thy hand.

Make me sure that Eternal Love is revealed in Jesus, Thy dear Son,

To save us from sin and solitude and death.

Teach me to know that I am not alone,

But that many hearts, all around the world,

Join with me through the silence, while I pray in His name:

Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed by Thy name.

Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever.

Amen.

From The Spirit of Christmas by Henry Van Dyke. New York, Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1905; in the public domain, courtesy of archive.org

A Christmas prayer for those far from families they love

2011-12-15T10:28:00.000-06:00

Grace Cabalka , evacuated five years ago from Congo due to violence, wrote recently in her blog, Sacred Space:

“Many of us glamorize missionaries, or think that they are somehow more spiritual than the rest of us, that they've been given extra measures of strength to live in difficult circumstances. Not true….”

I think of Deborah, an Occupational Therapist working in Galmi Hospital in Niger, West Africa. Her work, lifestyle, stamina, and commitment leave me in awe.

Her blog, Avec Deux Mains, is one of my must-read favorites. Her posts are delightful. I’ve never met her, but she must be delightful, too! She has a fun sense of humor and faces countless cultural challenges with optimism and wit.

Every once in a while, though, in the midst of fatiguing, emotional workloads, Deborah admits to the toll missions work can take. She writes:

“My six-year-old friend, N., died last night. Her last twenty-four hours of life were spent suffering, fighting to not succumb to the grip of death. She came for a surgery on her leg that would allow her to walk again, but then contracted malaria. We often tell ourselves that death is simply part of life, part of the process. But if it were really so natural, why would she have put up such a fight?…

You know, here at Galmi, we make a big difference every day. Patients come from all over the country to be treated in our hospital. I even have a patient right now arrived from southern Nigeria because they had gone to several local hospitals, and were turned away by ‘there’s nothing we can do,’ until one day someone said, ‘you should try Galmi Hospital in Niger.’ I was once asked to work with a spinal cord injured patient—he had a bullet lodged in his spine—as he had come here because people say ‘miracles happen at Galmi.’

But, to be honest with you, most of the time the severity of the loss experienced outweighs and overshadows the ‘difference’ made. I want to climb up our water tower and scream out over Galmi, ‘LITTLE N. CAME HERE TO BE ABLE TO WALK AGAIN, NOT TO DIE!!!!’

Because Deborah is so upbeat 99 percent of the time, I worried when, on another day, she wrote:

“Last week … I realized just how tired I was. It had been a rough couple of weeks … and my capacity for staring suffering and death in the face has reached its maximum. I am tired, and I have nothing left.

… Monday, I nearly broke down in tears three times during wound care of our burn patients … three times by 9 a.m.

On Thursday a baby I’ve been treating died just a few hours after I washed his burns and redressed them.… [I had gone to] his room to bring his roommate to therapy and there was a new child in bed where I had left baby. I turned to the little boy I had come to see. ‘Where’s baby?’ I asked. He stared at me. ‘Did he leave, did he go to his house?’ My little friend silently shook his head, no.

… There comes a point when nothing is left, that feels a bit like emotional shock. Everything sort of shuts down temporarily … the instinct to survive kicks in and only what-is-necessary-to-keep-going functions. It is only when survival-mode shuts off that the emotional dam breaks.

Back to Grace Cabalka’s blog, Sacred Space: Grace wrote a touching prayer for missionary women during this Christmas time:

"Dear Jesus, I abide with you this morning

for my sisters around the world

who have left homes, family, familiarity and comfort

to take your message of salvation to your children.

It's December, Lord, and good or bad,

we all have expectations of what this month should bring.

I pray for those far from families they love

and long to be with,

comfort them Dear Comforter.…”

Read the rest of Grace’s moving, insightful prayer at Prayer for those far away, and perhaps you will join Grace and me in praying for thousands of missionary ladies like Deborah, and for men, too, far from home this Christmas.

Life-changing, life-giving Christmas gifts

2011-12-13T08:49:00.000-06:00

“Does your giving bring you joy? If not,

discover what stirs your heart

and sacrificially support it.”

Richard Stearns, President, World Vision, U.S.,

and author of The Hole in Our Gospel

Richard Stearns’ words above caught my attention because I feel a holy discontent over what we’ve done to Christmas—materialism; our attitude toward gift-giving—buying junk and trinkets and gadgets no one needs or wants; over-spending; competing; stressing over all we “need” to accomplish.

Last night just before I turned off the computer, I ran across Jeff Goins’ Discovering the True Spirit of Christmas in which he, too, writes of his discontent with Christmas in North America:

“Every made-for-TV movie I watched between Thanksgiving and New Year’s preached the same gospel: ‘It’s not about presents.’ But then, every Christmas morning, I was inundated with presents. It didn’t make sense.…

“My parents, and probably yours, would conclude every December 25 with the same nervous question: ‘So … did you get everything you wanted?’

“Are you kidding me? Everything I wanted? Is this what we want to teach our children about life? That you can get everything you want?

“… My parents had the best of intentions at heart. Most do. But this is telling of our culture.

“… Over the years, I’ve grown cynical about Christmas. I’ve run out of good gift ideas, gotten fed up with the shopping mall feeding frenzy.…”

If you, too, feel a holy discontent with what Christmas has become,

if you, too, are looking for a way to honor the real reason for Christmas, read on!

Last week I blogged about ways you and I can buy Christmas gifts that will meet real needs and bring real joy.

Another way is to buy gifts to help Rafiki Foundation, a ministry dear to my heart for two reasons.

First, it’s a ministry in Africa, for Africans.

Second, when I served as a Teaching Leader in BSF International (Bible Study Fellowship), my “boss,” (BSF’s Executive Director) was Rosemary Jensen, the founder of Rafiki Foundation. Rosemary played a huge role in training me for life as God’s child and making me who I am today.

From Rafiki Foundation’s website:

“Rafiki” means friend in Swahili and depicts the purpose of the Foundation—to befriend orphans and widows in their distress (James 1:27). The mission of the Rafiki Foundation is to help Africans know God by caring for and educating orphans, providing materials and training in education and Bible study, and giving economic opportunities to widows.

Rafiki established ten Rafiki Training Villages within the African countries of Ghana, Liberia, Nigeria, Tanzania, Zambia, Malawi, Uganda, Kenya, Rwanda, and Ethiopia. These villages provide living, educational, and medical facilities through Rafiki’s four programs: Childcare, Education, Training, and Widows.

Yesterday, Rafiki Foundation posted this on Facebook:

“When Lemmy arrived at Rafiki Village Zambia as a small three-year-old in 2007, he was only able to walk in awkward, halting steps. It was questionable whether he would ever run with the other children. He recently lined up with other boys his age (7) to compete in a field day 100-meter dash. Tension ran high as the whistle blew; the runners bolted; the crowd rose to its feet in an excited roar. Lemmy eyed only the finish line. Imagine his joy as he was called to receive his First Place ribbon!”

To help Lemmy and hundreds like him, click here to buy gifts for your friends and loved ones at Rafiki Exchange, Rafiki’s store in Florida. Your products will be shipped on time if your order is made by DECEMBER 14—tomorrow! Products ordered after tomorrow will be shipped to you in January.

Last week I also shared ways you can make Christmas special for two people with just one gift and here’s one more:

World Vision invites you to give a gift that’s too big for a box!

By giving a gift to one of the world’s neediest people in the name of (in honor of) someone on your list, you can help:

clothe and shelter little ones,

give emergency aid,

nourish and educate children,

provide clean water,

provide training, jobs, income, and self-sufficiency.

When you help needy families around the world in this way, at the same time, you can honor someone special on your gift list. World Vision will send you a card to give to your loved one.

Jeff Goins writes in his blog post, Discovering the True Spirit of Christmas:

“This year my wife and I are doing something different for Christmas.… We will be finding a way to connect with those in need.

“We’re buying gifts. But not just any kind of gifts. The kind that make a difference.

“In your hustle-and-bustle holiday, I hope you find an opportunity to something similar.… Check out World Vision’s Gift Catalog. It’s one of the best ways I know to reconnect with the true spirit of Christmas.”

So, Jeff Goins and I and so many other good folks hope you’ll check out World Vision’s Gift Catalog.

Jesus said “I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me” (Matthew 25:40, The Message).

This Christmas, may we celebrate by giving to the overlooked and ignored, in Jesus’ name.

Together, we can buy life-changing, life-giving Christmas gifts for some of world’s neediest people—to God’s glory!

Christmas: We can meet real needs and bring real joy

2011-12-08T15:20:00.000-06:00

Continuing with Make Christmas special for two people with just one gift:

If you are looking for a way to escape materialistic chaos of the season, let me suggest life-changing, life-giving alternatives.

Tuesday I gave you links for opportunities to give a gift to one of the world’s neediest people in the name of (in honor of) someone on your Christmas gift list.

Here are additional opportunities for you to meet real needs and bring real joy:

A gift through Compassion International can provide clean drinking water, medical treatment, disaster relief, food supplies, and much more for Compassion-assisted children and their families.

For example, you could help a child survive to age five. The costs of childhood immunizations are unthinkable for impoverished parents.

Their limited funds can cover food or immunizations, but not both. Which would you choose for your children—food or immunizations?

Without immunizations, a child's health and even life are at risk. Your gift can provide one child with immunizations through his or her fifth birthday.

Be sure click here to look over Compassion International’s gift catalog.

Perhaps your family could make a long-term commitment to sponsor a child monthly. Compassion International says:

“When you sign up to sponsor a child, you welcome a new little boy or girl into your family’s heart and help rewrite that child’s entire future.…What better gift to please the heart of our Heavenly Father than to share His love with a broken and vulnerable child living in poverty.”

Do you need to be convinced that sponsoring a child can rewrite a child’s entire future?

Well, grab a handful of Kleenex and watch this video of Maureen. She was sponsored by someone like you through Compassion International starting in 1992. Compassion flew her to the U.S. to speak to thousands of students at Student Life Camps and, believe me, you’ll need that Kleenex.

Now age 26, Maureen heads up a new ministry dear to my heart in Nairobi, Kenya, called The Mercy House. It provides options for pregnant girls (often rape victims) living in the streets of Kenya. The maternity home aids them in nutrition, housing, prenatal care, Bible study, counseling, and job skills for sustainable living.

In this excerpt from my earlier blog post, I KNEW something like this would happen, Kristen Welch tells how God opened her eyes and heart to the need for The Mercy House:

I saw it with my own eyes. I smelled death in Africa’s slum.

I cried out to God and shook my fist, “Why do you allow so much suffering? Why?”

He asked me the same question.

I prayed for an answer for the countless pregnant girls, desperate for a home, for an alternative to their hell.

He answered my prayer with this:

Now that you’ve seen it, you must respond to it.

Next click on I KNEW something like this would happen, part 2 for additional riveting info about this important ministry. You won’t be sorry!

By buying gifts online at The Mercy House’s shop, you can help support this valuable ministry. Some of their jewelry and home products are made by the girls living in maternity home.

You can get acquainted with The Mercy House through their blog and on Facebook.

Together, we can buy life-changing, life-giving Christmas gifts for some of world’s neediest people—in God’s name, to His glory!

Make Christmas special for two people with just one gift

2011-12-06T04:50:00.000-06:00

Would you like to do your Christmas shopping in a stress-free, crowd-free, line-free environment?

And, at the same time, would you like to make Christmas special for two people with just one gift?

Are you looking for a way to escape materialistic chaos and find a way back to the spirit Christmas?

If so, let me suggest life-changing, life-giving alternatives.

You can give a gift to one of the world’s neediest people in the name of (in honor of) someone on your list—a good idea, especially for those who are hard to buy for.

Consider giving gifts through OneVerse (a sister organization with Wycliffe Bible Translators and SIL International; my husband and I worked for 11 years with both organizations in South America and Africa).

Jim Bob & Michelle Duggar write this:

“It pains us to think that this Christmas, 340 million people speaking more than 2,000 languages will not be able to hear the account of Jesus’ birth in their own language. We wish everyone on Earth could have access to God’s Word like we do. Gift-a-Verse is a perfect gift idea for people who appreciate God’s Word themselves and would like to see others have access to it. A gift of $26 will cover the cost to translate one verse for a people group without Scripture in their language.”

Click here to find out more about OneVerse or make your gift via telephone by calling 1-866-ONEVERSE (663-8377).

World Concern is another ministry dear to my heart. Experts in developing sustainable communities, World Concern lifts up struggling people in Africa, Asia, and the Americas, seeking those living in remote areas with no other aid. From HIV/AIDS support, to microfinance, and education World Concern provides hope.

Whenever I hear breaking news about a disaster—in Haiti, the Horn of Africa, or Japan, for example—I know World Concern is already taking action, and I praise God for these good folks.

You can make a difference in the world by helping the poorest and most vulnerable: Buy a World Concern gift in the name of (in honor of) someone on your Christmas list.

Recently I searched World Concern’s Global Gift Guide and I’ve gotta tell you: I wish I had enough money to buy every one of their gifts.

Eventually I chose “Cure a Child for Just 44¢.” Just $44 can cure a hundred children of debilitating worms for a whole year. The catalog says, “Worms stunt growth, hinder learning and, in severe cases, they kill. But after receiving the de-worming mediation and Vitamin A, kids’ stomachaches go away, their immune systems are strengthened, and they can absorb vital nutrients again!”

I bought enough for 200 children for a year, and I rejoice to think of them being much healthier by next Christmas! (And if certain members of my family read this, they now know what one of their Christmas gifts is!)

In Meaningful gifts for those who have everything, Elizabeth Griffin writes this about giving a gift from World Concern’s gift guide:

“‘It’s a way to give without giving something [the recipient] doesn’t necessarily need. The idea is that you don’t have to give something random at Christmas, you can give something meaningful, like a goat,’ said Derek Sciba, marketing manager at World Concern.

“While another box of chocolates or a tie may not mean much to the recipient, a goat given to a family in Haiti or Africa can be life changing.”

Jesus said “I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me” (Matthew 25:40,The Message).

This Christmas, may we celebrate

by giving to the overlooked and ignored,

in Jesus’ name.

Waking before dawn to a slight noise outside our tent—the rattle of a teacup on a saucer

2011-12-01T11:20:00.000-06:00

On safari with Karen, continued ~

In Grandma’s Letters from Africa, I wrote this in a letter to my granddaughter, Maggie:

In the Maasai Mara, we lived in canvas tents with British Colonial-style safari furnishings, beds draped in mosquito nets, and a modern toilet, sink, and shower.

I’ll long remember waking before dawn the first morning to a slight noise outside our tent—the rattle of a teacup on a saucer.

A Kenyan man spoke in his deep, slow, careful English, “Goood mawning to you. I have brought your tea.”

Your grandpa unzipped the tent flap, and there he stood with a linen-covered tray, a pot of Kenya tea, cups and saucers, spoons, cream, and sugar.

He stepped into our tent, placed the tray on a small table, and disappeared as silently as he had appeared.

The tranquil setting, the cool still morning air, the gracious Kenyan, and the bracing tea created an indelible moment in time, and often I long to live it again.

I didn’t know it then, but that occasion initiated my quest after serenity and simplicity, my pursuit of a calm and gentle lifestyle.

After we eased into the morning in that fashion, we grabbed binoculars, cameras, canteens, toilet tissue, and hats, and set out for the morning’s game drive.

The bold African sun arose from low in the east. For two hours, we drove throughout wide-open savannahs and discovered, with childlike glee, an abundance of game animals. Then we headed back to the lodge for a hearty breakfast buffet.

Our driver took us on game drives when the animals are most active, at sunrise and just before sunset.

When we arrived back at the lodge at dusk, the aroma of wood smoke signaled that we could take warm showers.… (from Chapter 5, Grandma’s Letters from Africa)

“The wild animals, your Excellency, are perhaps proof of the existence of God”

2011-11-29T10:06:00.000-06:00

.

On safari with Karen, continued ~

Karen, just 22, came to visit us in Kenya after her first year of teaching.

She traveled halfway around the world all by herself! Would I have been that brave? I’m sure the answer would be “No.”

Thanks to missionary discounts, we could afford a couple of days on safari in Maasai Mara.

We took game drives when animals are most visible—at sunrise and just before sunset—in pop-up vans. Rifle-toting Kenyan drivers served as tour guides.

One day we spotted a bird perched on the top branch of a shrub beside the trail. I’d never seen anything like it—shimmery turquoise and lilac. Our driver stopped so we could snap a picture. I expected the bird to fly away, but it simply sat there, content to let us snap photos. Later I learned its name, a Lilac-breasted Roller.

The twiga—giraffe—is my favorite African animal. Giraffes move gracefully and their brown and white hides give them a pristine appearance. Most of Africa’s animals have cold eyes—buffalo, lion, elephant—but giraffes’ long-lashed, soft brown eyes look especially tender. Karen Blixen called giraffes “proud and innocent creatures, gentle amblers of the great plains.”

“Oh yes, your Excellency,” said the showman,

“God sees the Giraffes.

While they have been running about

and have played in Africa,

God has been watching them

and has taken a pleasure in their demeanor.

He has made them to please him.

It is in the Bible, your Excellency,” said the showman.

“God so loved the Giraffe that He created them.

God has Himself invented the square as well as the circle,

surely your Excellency cannot deny that,

He has seen the squares on their skin

and everything else about them.

The wild animals, your Excellency,

are perhaps proof of the existence of God....”

(Out of Africa, Isak Dinesen aka Karen Blixen)

We saw zebras, antelopes, gazelles, impalas, Cape buffalos, warthogs, ostriches, rhinos, wildebeest, secretary birds, and topis.

A Thanksgiving perspective

2011-11-24T11:09:00.000-06:00

Help Me

(A Thanksgiving Day Prayer)

O God, when I have food,

help me to remember the hungry;

When I have work,

help me to remember the jobless;

When I have a home,

help me to remember those who have no home at all;

When I am without pain,

help me to remember those who suffer,

And remembering,

help me to destroy my complacency,

bestir my compassion,

and be concerned enough to help,

By word and deed,

those who cry out for what we take for granted.

Amen.

(Samuel F. Pugh)

borrowed from Sherrey’s blog, “Righting” My Life Story

"For I was hungry and you gave Me food,
I was thirsty and you gave Me drink.

I was a stranger and you welcomed Me..."

Matthew 25:35

On safari: life under mosquito nets and canvas

2011-11-22T10:30:00.000-06:00

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Continuing on safari with Karen ~

“‘Safari,’ … is a Swahili word and, like many other words in the Swahili language, comes from the Arabic. It means literally ‘a journey’. But its uses are liberal. It may mean a hunting trip, it may be applied, coupled with the verb 'make', to African sport generally.” (Patrick Chalmers, Sport and Travel in East Africa, from diaries of the Prince of Wales)

Photos from my scrapbook:

“… You may live in what I call excitement from the moment you first look out of your tent in the morning until you lie in your cot at night, listening to the night sounds—the hollow, terrifying roar of the lion, the bark of the zebra, the ghostly laugh of the hyena, and the pad, pad of invisible feet.” (Martin Johnson, Camera Trails in Africa)