Have you considered tithing your professional life?

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, so I invite you to read Grandma’s Letters from Africa, to read over my granddaughter Maggie’s shoulder and learn how a mid-life woman—I—moved to Africa and even lived to tell about it!

And while you read, keep in mind that maybe you could do something like this, too.

Consider the words of Shane Claiborne:

“All around you people will be tiptoeing through life,

just to arrive at death safely.

But dear children, do not tiptoe.

Run, hop, skip, or dance.

Just don’t tiptoe!”

Give it serious consideration!

Keep in mind, though, that change is inevitable. In the years since Dave and I returned home from Africa, Wycliffe Bible Translators has changed, as have other mission agencies. If you were to work with Wycliffe today, you would work with a different Wycliffe than we did. Field training (orientation) courses, such as Kenya Safari, have changed. Financial policies have changed, the U.S. headquarters has moved to Orlando, and furlough schedules are more flexible than they used to be.

           

And while Africa has changed, too, I’m sure some things have not changed: the flowers, animals, and birds; the vast open spaces, jungles, and deserts; and especially the dear, charming African people—their laughter and their music, their spirit, soul, and faith.

Perhaps a second career in missions

is just what you’ve been looking for—

maybe for a few months, maybe for a few years.

Working on the mission field is doable

as long as people are willing, flexible, and strong in their faith.

So while you read over my granddaughter Maggie’s shoulder,

I hope you’ll say to yourself,

“If that gal could do it, so can I! Where do I sign up?”

In many parts the world, not just Africa,

 the needs are enormous.

The rewards are, too.

P.S. Have you read my newest memoir? Entitled Please, God, Don’t Make Me Go: A Foot-Dragger’s Memoir, it covers three years my husband and I and our two little kids worked in rural Colombia, South America.

From the back cover:

What’s a comfortable—and cowardly—suburbanite to do when her husband wants to move their young family to Colombia so he can teach missionaries’ kids?

Linda K. Thomas has always planned to chase the American dream. Adventure doesn’t appeal to her and she’s ill-equipped for missions work. She prays, “Please, God, don’t make me go!” but after months of soul-searching, she hears Him say, “Go!”

So, with flimsy faith and wobbly courage, she sets out with her husband, Dave, and their kids on a life-changing adventure at the end of the road in the middle of nowhere.

But when culture shock, tropical heat, and a certain boa constrictor threaten to undo her, she’s tempted to run away and hike back to the U.S. Instead, she fights to settle in and soon falls in love with her work alongside modern-day heroes of the faith disguised as regular folks. God has sent her where she didn’t know she wanted to go.

Once life is under control and easy, she gets a surprise—an invitation to one of the world’s most dangerous drug-dealing regions where hundreds of people have lost their lives. The country is perilous in other ways, too. Marxist guerrillas don’t like Americans, proving it with bombs, kidnapping, and eventually murder.

Linda doesn’t trust God to help her make the trip, and she can’t trust herself, either. Gripped by anxiety, she longs to stay in the only safe place, the mission center. Again she prays, “Please, God, don’t make me go!”

In this heartwarming, sometimes humorous, sometimes shocking memoir, you’ll walk alongside a young wife and mother as she faces two universal struggles:

• choosing between her plans and God’s, and
• choosing faith and courage over fear and cowardice.

This compelling memoir will inspire you to cancel membership in the Society of the Faint-Hearted, take a trembling leap of faith, enjoy God more, and relish the adventures He dreams up.

You can order both Grandma’s Letters from Africa and Please, God, Don’t Make Me Go: A Foot-Dragger’s Memoir from your local bookseller or from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and many other online booksellers around the world.

Night sounds: There’s a reason the Maasai say that the day is for people but the night is for wild animals

On the equator at six o’clock each night, darkness settles quickly, and there in the wilderness surrounding us, the earth quieted, the temperature dropped, and we people spoke in hushed tones, wondering what our first night would be like in a vast land ruled by lions, leopards, and Cape Buffalo.

We didn’t expect Cape Buffalo to be a problem, but our director, Brian, warned us we might hear lions or leopards walking around our tents. There’s a reason the Maasai say that the day is for people but the night is for wild animals.

Tourists flock to Africa to see wildlife

in its natural habitat,

but most of them stay in tourist lodges

protected by walls and fences and guards.

We, however, were experiencing Africa’s wildlife for real—

with no walls, no fences—

with only our flimsy tent wall surrounding us,

and a couple of Maasai guards.

At such a time, I suppose it’s normal to remember stories of lion attacks, and to recall photos or movies or videos of a lion attack (click on that link). In “Top 10 of Africa’s Most Dangerous Animals,” the lion takes the lead with an estimated 250 annually across Africa.

Another article, “These Are The Top 15 Deadliest Animals on Earth,” states that “A 2005 study found that since 1990, lions have killed 563 people in Tanzania alone, an average of about 22 a year.” At Eleng’ata Enterit we were within walking distance of the Kenya/Tanzania border.

But that night Dave and I slept well—perhaps exhaustion was a gift—and we didn’t hear frightful noises.

In the morning, we unzipped our tent and examined the ground for animal footprints.

We didn’t see any that morning, but on other mornings we did—massive footprints all around the edge of our tent.

The unsettling moments—

the most alarming moments—

were the mornings when Dave asked me

if I’d heard the big cat outside our tent

making a low growl.

By God’s grace, I slept through each incident.

Lessons learned from being “preoccupied with control”

We had invaded territory belonging to lions and leopards and cape buffaloes. The land belonged to them and we had to play by their rules.

In the middle of nowhere in Kenya, Dave and I and about forty other newcomers had just begun our six-week stay in part two of our orientation course, preparing to live and work in Africa. All of us trainees had pitched our tents and a couple of the guys had dug a hole in the ground for our latrine.

The sun would soon set—it always sets around 6 p.m. on the equator—and we had to hurry to get oriented and settled because it wasn’t safe for us to walk around after dark. The animals reigned over a vast swath of earth after nightfall.

The orientation staff handed out plastic containers about the size and shape of a coffee can. “This is your loo,” Jenny said, “your chamber pot. Use it in your tent during the night and, in the morning, empty it and clean it.”

The ramifications of being confined to our tents at night rubbed us the wrong way. Using a chamber pot?!? You’ve gotta be kidding!

We understood the rationale, and even agreed with it—who wants to tangle with a lion or leopard?—but we were taken aback when confronted with our need to change our way of doing things.

Dave and I didn’t have a vehicle. None of the other trainees had a vehicle, either. Only the directors of our orientation, Brian and Jenny, had one, a Toyota Land Cruiser. But the place didn’t have any roads and Dave and I couldn’t have found our way back to civilization even if we did have a car. Life felt a bit out of control.

We Americans are accustomed to having control over much of our lives, day by day, hour by hour. We’ve lived lives with abundant personal freedoms, making our own plans, and expecting to have fun. As a result, when we have constrictions imposed upon us, it’s a shock. We protest anything that interferes with the control we’ve always wielded.

That’s why, during our current coronavirus pandemic, we chafe under our restricted movements. We mutter and complain about following rules imposed upon us. Staying home is an irritation. We grumble about missing birthday parties and Easter church services. We’re annoyed that beaches and parks are closed. And some of us are really grumpy about missing basketball and baseball seasons.

And, just like during our orientation course, we understand the rationale, and even agree with it—who wants to come down with the coronavirus?—but we’ve suddenly had to adjust our way of doing things and to re-shape our expectations. We’ve had to give up control and surrender it to something bigger than ourselves.

We experience that in our spiritual lives, too. We’re trained, by both our culture and our churches, that our lives are our own and we get to make plans, set the rules, choose the fun and when to have it. Yes, even our churches too often give us the message that we humans are in control, the masters of our own fate.  

But wait. God’s best for us doesn’t look like that. The Bible says that all things—that includes you and I—were created through Him and for Him (Colossians 1:16).

And both the Old and New Testaments teach us that our primary focus, the most important commandment given to us, is this: “Love the Lord your God with  all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength” (Deuteronomy 6:5, Mark 12:30).

That means we give God priority. We give Him control. He calls the shots. We surrender to Someone bigger than ourselves.

Henri Nouwen wrote about “an enormously radical attitude toward life.”

He said such a life “is trusting that something will happen to us that is far beyond our own imaginings.

“It is giving up control over our future and letting God define our life. . . .

“The spiritual life is a life in which we wait, actively present in the moment, expecting that new things will happen to us, new things that are far beyond our own imagination or prediction.

“That, indeed, is a very radical stance toward life in a world preoccupied with control.” (The Path of Waiting, Henri Nouwen)

Yes, our world, and our individual and collective lives are preoccupied with control.

Looking back now, I recognize that in being confined to our tent at night in the wilds of Kenya, and in having neither a vehicle nor roads, God was offering us a lesson, a learning opportunity: Experiencing new circumstances in which we must give up control can teach us how, on a deeper level, to give up appropriate control to God.

And I see now that in the restrictions placed upon us during the coronavirus pandemic, God is offering us another learning opportunity: Experiencing this unfamiliar stay-at-home lifestyle and letting go of many things we used to control can teach us how, on a deeper level, to give up appropriate control to God.

That’s what Nouwen meant when he wrote of

“a very radical stance toward life

in a world preoccupied with control.”

That’s what he meant about

“giving up control over our future

and letting God define our life.”

God offers us ways to practice

surrendering to something bigger than ourselves—

surrendering to Him.

Each lesson we learn offers us opportunities

to give more and more control to Him,

trusting Him and loving Him with all our hearts,

souls, minds, and strength.

(Mark 12:30)

The coronavirus pandemic: Hope and comfort in these increasingly uncertain times

These are uncertain, frightening times for you and for me and for our families and friends. Thousands of people have died in our nation and around the world, and many thousands more will die in coming days and weeks, all because of the coronavirus pandemic.

And here’s a startling development: Health officials have discovered that a tiger in the Bronx Zoo has tested positive for coronavirus.  Several other tigers and lions are showing the same symptoms.

That raises alarming questions:

Does that mean the coronavirus will spread to other animals—cattle, chickens, pigs, and fish? If so, what will that do to our food supplies?

Could our pets catch the virus from other people’s pets? Could sick humans infect their pets? Could we catch coronavirus from our cats and dogs?

Talk about uncertainty!

At this time, when our thoughts dart wildly in every direction, when our hearts race and we fear what we and our loved ones are facing in coming days, it’s good to remember God’s role in our lives. We need to remember we can trust in His presence and His sovereignty in our lives.

Psalm 139 is a rich resource for you.

It reminds you that God Himself knit you together in your mother’s womb (verse 13). He made every part of you with His loving care:

“You were there while I was being formed

in utter seclusion.

You saw me before I was born

and scheduled every day of my life

before I began to breathe.

Every day was recorded in your Book!”

(Psalm 139: 13-16, TLB)

The NIV Study Bible says that Book is “the heavenly royal register of God’s decisions.”

That reminds me of what God says in Jeremiah 29:11, “I know the plans I have for you.”

Pastor Ray Noah writes, “God is so involved in my life that he was even there at the moment my mother and father conceived me in love, and while I was in the womb, he superintended even the most infinitesimal details of my physiological and temperamental formation.”

Ray says, “I find great comfort and security in knowing that God has my life so ordered that I will neither die a day sooner nor live a day longer than what has already been recorded in his book.” (Click here to read Ray’s encouraging post, “Psalm 139: My Days Are Numbered.”)

Experts predict that in the coming week or two,

death tolls will rise dramatically.

But let’s be honest.

Despite the passages in the Bible

and reassurances from pastors, the big question,

 the elephant in the room is this:

Each of us wonders:  Will the coronavirus kill me?

My loved ones? My friends?

I worry about those of us in North America, but I also worry a great deal about my dear friends in Kenya. (Click here to read Urgent prayer for Kenyans during the coronavirus pandemic. Click here to read Please pray for Ugandans’ desperate needs during coronavirus pandemic.)

Ray Noah reminds us that according to Psalm 139, God “can be completely trusted to keep me safe until the Divinely allotted number of days ordained have expired and then take me to the next life that he has prepared for me.”

I hope that gives you peace. I hope that encourages you to relax in God’s loving arms, knowing He has good plans and, whether sooner or later, He will eventually take you and your loved ones Home to be with Him, a perfect place beyond what you or I can imagine.

May the God of hope

fill you with all joy and peace

as you trust in him,

so that you may overflow with hope

by the power of the Holy Spirit.

(Romans 15:13)