All things appealing to the eye

Michelle and I took a hike and broke all the rules.

Awa hosted all us for dinner!

I need You, I want You, I choose You

As we are preparing to depart for our mid-year conference in Europe, my heart is heavy. We’ve never left Senegal before. We’ve never not seen our friends here. What’s it going to be like when we for certain leave in July?

Yesterday Katie and I met with a sweet friend, DiaDia. We have shared the message of hope and love with her numerous times before. But yesterday was different. I know that I am not guaranteed another day in Senegal let alone this world. The sense of urgency was there to tell DiaDia that Jesus is God, He died for our sins, He is the ultimate sacrifice and we must turn to Him in repentance and receive Him as our Savior and Lord to become children of God. My heart longs to see sweet DiaDia come to know the God of the universe.

My heart broke when she walked away still not having received Jesus as her savior. My heart broke when she cried because we were leaving for two weeks. My heart breaks knowing that in a few short months, I might be saying goodbye to DiaDia forever. I trust God with her, but my heart breaks that she is in bondage of self-works and striving for the acceptance of God when it is so freely given.

I am comforted by God’s immense love for me and all the people He is calling to himself. I am thankful that God has promised me an eternity with Him because of what Jesus did, not anything that I can do.

Please, continue praying for Senegal during this election period. Please be praying the Gospel would go forth and for our sweet friends like DiaDia to come to know the amazing grace He has lavished upon us.

Thriving.

“The heart of missions is bringing God’s glory to the nations. John Piper has states emphatically that God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him. Missions, then, is about bringing God glory by freeing Satan’s captives of all nations to find their satisfaction exclusively in Him. God receives great glory when passion for Him replaces devotion to idols and material possessions, aspirations of power and fame, or obsession with personal peace and affluence.”-STINT Playbook, Thriving Overseas

We are so embarrassing.

Cultural context: Senegalese people take extreme pride in their appearance. Wrinkles, stains, and sloppy clothes are not okay. People will skip meals in order to afford presentable clothes. And most of our students dress up when they come to meet us because people think Americans are rich, dress nice and care about our appearance the same way they do. Well, I’m just going to say that when I was packing to come here I packed a few cute things, but knew that hand washing clothes would ruin a lot of my good clothes. So, I packed v-necks, tee-shirts and stuff that I wouldn’t mind leaving behind. So, there’s some background context.

Here’s the story: One day we had a ministry party and one of our girls who is the most Western, fashionable cutey came in wearing a long baggy v-neck and a long bohemian skirt. Conversation started after the party and someone mentioned, “So-and-so, didn’t look herself today. Normally she’s so fashionable but today she looked frumpy. What was up with… OH MY GOSH. She was dressing like us!” Ha, yup. We realized that we might need to step up our game and try to fit in with the culture a little bit more by being more presentable.

Here’s a video: So, I was watching some videos on YouTube and I stumbled upon this one that pretty much made me laugh at my long skirts and v-necks. [I don't really understand the latter half of this video, so if this is all bad words and such, my sincere apologies.]

 

wow God, wow.

So there’s this YouTube video that I love. Here’s the video.  Watch it before you read any further.

Did you watch it? No? Go back and watch it.

Okay, now that that’s done we can advance onto more serious talk. I just love that video for various reasons. One: the kid is so stinkin’ adorable. If I ever have children, I hope our everyday conversations are like that. Two: This video is ridiculously catchy. I bet you’ll find yourself quoting this video. “Wow, daddy! Wow!”  Three: what a sweet, patient and trusting relationship this kid and father have. I really just love the patience the father displays and the trust the kid has in his father to protect him from the claw!

So, I didn’t just post this blog to show you that video (although that would be okay in my book!). I just wanted to update you from the last blog that was maybe, slightly depressing and not so encouraging. Sorry about that. I’m human. Go figure.

This past week some of our parents were able to visit us in Dakar. Whitney, Michelle, and Paige’s parents came all the way from America to see what our lives look like here and what God is doing. We hosted a small party for some of our friends to come over and meet our moms. Fifteen girls came! It was ridiculous how great of a turnout we had.

Our moms were able to share their stories of how and when they gave their lives to Jesus, what trusting God with their daughters means and how their daughters being away has strengthened their walk with the Lord. It was super encouraging to hear how each mom had made a decision to receive Jesus, give God their lives and follow Him.

We then played a game where each Senegalese girl took a piece of paper that was either green, red, blue, or white. We had corresponding questions with each color. Although we didn’t really plan the conversation to be about us, many people got the questions, “What has one of the American girls taught you?” or “Tell the moms something about one of the Americans.” I think we were thinking people would answer, “This one time we went shopping and [blank] happened. It was so funny!” or “They taught us how to make pizza and muffins.” But that is not at all how these women answered the questions.

Several of our girls said things like, “Your daughters have taught us how to know God and taught us about Jesus.” Others said things like, “Your daughters have taught us how to love.” And one in particular stood out to me, “Your daughters teach us that Jesus died for our sins and made a sacrifice for us. Your daughters left family, parties, and other things to come here to tell us about Jesus. They made a sacrifice too.”

These past few weeks I’ve been feeling so terribly dry. We have been praying, laboring, and hoping to see people come to a saving faith in Jesus and there hasn’t been any fruit that we could see. My discouragement levels were at an all time high and I had just been wanting to escape from this mission God gave me. All of that was true of me until yesterday.

Yesterday, I was sweetly reminded that our labor is not in vain. 

Although I may never see DiaDia, Awa, Fatou, Koudu, Aissatou, or Oumy come to know Jesus as Lord and Savior, our work is not in vain. People are hearing the good news of Jesus for the first time. The glory of God is being proclaimed to the nations. And some girls really are beginning to understand. My eyes do not have to be the judge of whether or not God is working. Sometimes I’m fully convinced that if I don’t see God moving, then He isn’t. That’s not true. It’s great to see God working and to be reminded of that, but my heart can’t rest in what I see. It needs to rest in the truths of God and in Him alone.

There’s a popular quote, “If I only see one person come to know Christ in all of my years of ministry, it will all be worth it.” I hate that dumb quote. To me that quote inadvertantly implies two questions: What if I spend all of my days serving Him and I don’t lead anyone to Christ? Was it worth it?

Serving God isn’t for me. It’s for His glory and honor. It is true that people coming to know Him through faith in Jesus brings Him glory and honor. Lives transformed because of what the Spirit does brings God and immense amount of glory. But my work for God is always worth it because He is worth it, not because of the results that I see.

It took me being discouraged from what I haven’t been seeing to appreciate the small steps I did see yesterday. And the work I saw God doing in the hearts of our girls yesterday reminded me that faith is not dependent on what I see. God is good and wants these women to know Him. God sent us here to proclaim the gospel and to shepherd the lost to Him. God has a purpose for our lives here even if I don’t see it.  Giving up holidays with family, comfort in the U.S., my hair straightener (trust me, that’s been a hard one!), and wonderfully brewed Starbucks for a year to serve God isn’t a sacrifice. It’s an honor.

I’m still amazed at the patience God has with me. I am taught the same lessons over and over again. They are always like onions in that once you get through one layer there is another. I love that God sweetly teaches me to trust Him and gives me a glimpse of what He’s doing. I’m thankful for His patience and love and the fact that He leads us if we let Him. Sometimes you follow and serve and don’t see anything. But the times that He does give you a glimpse of His plan as a reminder of His faithfulness it just leaves you saying, “Wow God, Wow.”

Why Bubbles Don’t Work.

Life is not a bubble. As much as I try to create a safe-zone that happens to be flimsy, translucent and encircles me, life is not a bubble.

We spent New Year’s Eve with German, British, Irish, and two other American missionaries who were all so fabulous in every unique way possible. I loved investing in them, getting to know them and sharing our deep love for the Savior with them. I loved praying in the year, singing worship songs, and aligning our hearts to seek Christ in all things in 2012. But that sweet, little, enjoyable bubble didn’t last.

Let me back up a little. Can I be totally honest here? Of course I can. This is my blog. I didn’t want the Europeans to come over on New Year’s Eve. I thought, “Thirteen people? Here? I can’t entertain that many people. What if they have an awful time and hate us?” Anxiety set in. Of course, these thoughts were highly irrational. I usually am able to humble myself and admit this after I’ve had a rare case of irration-ability (yes, I made that word up). Nonetheless, this was not the first time that week that fears, anxieties, and undealt with emotions have had a foothold/stronghold effect on me.

I have a fear of going outside. Sounds crazy huh? Just wait, it really isn’t that insane. It is easier to stay inside than to see the faces of the women who are living and begging for food and money on our street. It is easier to hide from the hundreds of Talibe boys who grow up without family, who beg on the streets, and who are often sexually abused. It is just easier for your heart not to break for the people here who do not know the name of the One who brings salvation.

So, insert bubble. Last week, my bubble was my home. Once that bubble was burst, I recreated it briefly with our new Euro-American city. Now that they have all left Dakar, and we’re back to work, my bubble has burst once again. And this time, it is good. It hurts, but it is so good.

Bubbles don’t work. They are not reality. My reality is that I serve with a team of eight Christ-followers in a nation where 95% of people do not have hope, where up to 12 students live together in one dorm that is smaller than my kitchen, where friends have been kicked out of their homes for giving their lives to Jesus, where friends do not know where their next meal is going to come from. I am serving God in a place where He is. Despite the circumstances, despite what my anxieties, fears, and failures try to tell me, God is here and He is good.

The reality is that God wants to use me here. I’m realizing that ministry is going to look different in Senegal than I thought it would three months ago. And that’s okay. I am learning that I’m here because God lead me here. He wants to lead me still. Despite my expectations of what everyday “should” look like, I am praying that I would follow faithfully in every moment. I am praying that I would surrender to the Spirit’s prompting even if it doesn’t fit into my schedule. I pray that I would put His will before my will in all things. I pray that I would commit to trusting Him for my security instead of running to things I feel I have control over.

My security and comforts are being gently removed so that the only thing I have left is Christ. And I pray the same for you. I am being beautifully broken in the sweetest way possible. And all I want to know is Christ and Him crucified.

Four Things I’ve Learned From Relationships in 2011

The title of this blog was taken from a friend’s post on Facebook. One of her friends wrote a blog similar to this and she reposted it. I have yet to read the friend’s blog, but I plan on doing that soon-ish.

The term relationships doesn’t necessarily apply to boyfriend-girlfriend relationships. I’ve learned a ton this past year from living in a 1000-square-foot house with two girls and two dogs, and living in an even smaller apartment in Africa with 2 girls. Trust me, one bathroom and two mirrors for three girls will do a ton for your character development.

So I digress….

1. People aren’t perfect even if you truly think they are. People will disappoint you, not meet your expectations and give you fragments of a maybe-one-day-could-be promise. The one thing I had to ask myself in this one was, “Where was my hope found from the beginning?” If my hopes were in my plans, my standards, and another person’s hollow promises, I’m going to be devastated to the point of withholding much needed grace and forgiveness. So, number one: People are not perfect. My hope is in God alone. I am able to love, be a giver of grace, and forgive because of what Christ has done for me.

2. Holding onto the promises of people always seems easier than holding onto God’s promises in the midst of any relationship setting. Shallow phrases and even my own idealistic,  high view of a person means nothing. But the whispers of God saying, “Beloved, I am yours and you are Mine,” far outweighs the here and now. They are promises for forever. We, who are in Christ, were bought with a price because God loves us. He will never leave us nor forsake us. He is the bridegroom and we are the bride. Number two: Tangible doesn’t mean biblical, true, or purposed by God. God’s promises remain true and are a safe place to rest.

3. My grandma once observed me and my cousin having a fight over a miscommunication. She said, “You know, two people who majored in communications should be able to know how to communicate well.” If only that were the case! I am the worst communicator. I’ve seen my lack of communication tear at the best relationships and friendships. Holding inside expectations of  friendship duties (ie: friends do this, y, and z together), frustrations and hurts truly only creates bitterness from a wound that was not properly dealt with. The wound might have even been so tiny that a 5 minute conversation could have healed it. Number three: Communication is so important. I’m learning that even if what I say sounds irrational, it’s so important to be vulnerable and humble enough to reconcile.

4. It’s easy to get comfortable in friendships and lose your identity in them. The, “I’m Mary, you know. I’m the girl who lives with so-and-so and works in Africa, whose best friends are Blink and Blank. The girl who loves to write, who wants to be a Bible scholar, go to seminary and one day be a pastor’s wife. Writing for Re:Lit isn’t a bad expectation for her, but that’s something she’d never tell people.” See how subtle that change is? It went from “I am” to “the girl.” The girl who is defined by all of the above except: a follower of Jesus. These things aren’t bad in themselves, but my identity can’t be found in what I do, who I am friends with and who I live with because those things always change. Number 4: My identity is in Christ alone. I will not be content in this life if I try to find my identity elsewhere. I was not created for that and neither was whatever else my identity is found in.

Christmas Eve In Africa

we made cookies.

we opened a present from WhitLo's mom!

All us girls even slept in the same room!

And that room we slept in, might have been the kitchen.

Joyeux Noel

Last night we hosted our major Christmas outreach party that included Senegalese students, Congolese staff and us American STINTers. We had five female students show up and eight-plus male students. We sang Christmas carols, told the Christmas Candy Cane story, danced, played games, shared how God gave us the best gift of all over 2,000 years ago, and even did a gift exchange. It was a so much fun.

It’s crazy to know that at all of our Christmas outreaches, every single woman that has attended has never celebrated Christmas. Making ornaments, decorating cookies, White Elephant, hearing the story of Jesus’ birth from one of the gospels is all new to them. It’s so exciting watching these women be given a childhood again, even if only for a moment.

Here are some photos for you to enjoy:

Rach, Whit and I

We're missing two other women students from this photo, but here's most of the women!

An Island of Bugs

On our less than leisurely stroll to campus this morning, my sweet roommate Whitney turned around and asked, “How long was I laughing last night?” Random question I suppose, but not too random because little miss Whitney laughs more than any other person I know. Nonetheless, I was slightly confused as to what she was talking about.

told you.

“Huh?,” I said. “Last night, when you were sleeping.”-Whitney. Okay. This conversation is getting weirder and weirder. “What are you talking about?!”-Me. Whit responded, “Last night, I was laughing in my sleep and it apparently woke you up. You sat up in your bed and told me to stop laughing, and that you were on an island of bugs.”

Ladies and gents, I knew I responded to people  in my sleep, but I had no clue that I arise out of my REM to let the world know the ridiculous thoughts that are livestreaming across my mind. Nonetheless, I cracked up and tried really hard to remember doing that. I couldn’t remember anything except for hearing Whitney briefly laugh in her sleep. I thought I decided not to wake her up because that would be rude, but I guess subconsciously I just wanted her to know that I was living on an island of bugs.

This story holds no weight to the one I’m about to tell. My other little roommate, Rachel, yells in her sleep. This story takes place in Chicago at STINT briefing. Rachel, Whitney, Michelle and I shared a hotel room that week. Rachel and I shared a bed.

 

We celebrated Lil' Rachel's 24th birthday at STINT briefing in Chicago.

 

In the middle of the night on our third night there,  Rachel quickly sits up and screams, “There’s a rat in here!” I shoot up, turn on the light and start searching for the rat. Out of the corner of my eye I see Rachel start slowly slipping back under the bedsheets and then her head calmly hits the pillow. What? “Rachel, where is it?” She responds, “Where’s what?” Me: “The rat. You just screamed about a rat.” And the sweetest most innocent chuckle and reply came, “Oh, I did? Sorry about that.”

So.. there’s no rat? I lost it. I uncontrollably, hysterically laughed for a good 10 minutes. I laughed so hard that I woke up Michelle, and couldn’t fall back asleep for another hour. I’d finally get control of my giggles, and then silently lose it not even four seconds later. Gosh. It was so funny.

So, ladies and gents I would just like to let you know, I talk in my sleep. Normally that kind of stuff would make me feel really insecure and crazy, but my one roommate laughs in her sleep and the other one screams. I guess I’m pretty normal.