These Shoes Were Made For Walking [and that's just what they'll do]

I mentioned in an earlier blog post that we were so privileged to be able to go to a Cru conference for most of the international interns in Nerja, Spain. After the week-long conference, we had a week of vacation time to take.

We were needing a break from our at-times-stressful-third-world, so we took some time to relax after our conference in 2 countries in Europe. It was nice to be able to drink Starbucks, eat something other than rice, drink fountain drinks, drink water straight out of the tap, have clean feet for a week, sleep in beds that weren’t on the floor, feel cold, and EAT MCDONALDS.

What I have failed to mention was that I bought new shoes in Senegal for our vacation. Apparently packing closed toed shoes wasn’t high on my priority list in October… Anyways, I got these shoes for $10 at an African market. And here’s all the places they took me.

So much swag, Dakar couldn’t handle it.

Safely arriving in Nerja, Spain.

Leaving Nerja at like 4 a.m. Yup. I wanted to go back to bed.

arriving in Athens, Greece!

At the Parthenon in Athens

This was by far my favorite spot. It was Mars Hill in Athens where Paul threw down the mike in Acts 17:16-33

Next stop: Berlin, Germany. And of course not without eating McDonald’s breakfast first… so. delicious.

We got a free tour of the Bonhoeffer house in a suburb of Berlin. Really interesting!

Walking into a concentration camp. One of the most, if not the most, disturbing things I’ve ever seen.

walking around in Corinth. I’m pretty sure we weren’t actually supposed to be IN the ruins, but you know..

sleeping in the Athens Airport cause our flight was at 4 a.m.

Bonne Année! [Bringing in the New Year right...]

I am unashamedly sitting in our room at the Phare D’Esperance (Lighthouse of Hope) eager to inform you of the events that occurred on New Year’s Eve. Okay, so I am also dancing around the fact that I am listening to Celine Dion’s My Heart Will Go On… There’s no judgement here, you judgers.

Can I just be honest? Of course I can. Dakar on New Year’s puts our Fourth of July celebrations to shame. No. Joke. Here’s what had happened…

Since we’re having our Pamoja conference here at the Phare, we decided to have a dance party. Two observations: 1. Who would have known our boss would be so great at Gangnam Style? 2. Senegalese music is so fast, but they dance so slow. I prefer lé Wobble.

Around 11 p.m. we walked up to the top of the lighthouse that overlooks all of Dakar to watch the fireworks. My team of seven, our boss Pascal and his family, and our students watched Dakar as it was beautifully illuminated with “le feux d’artifice” (fire works, translates to artificial fire, who knew?…).

The whole “Island Time” thing or “Senegal Time” doesn’t disappear just because it is New Years though. We celebrated the end of one year and the birth of another for about 10 minutes. No one knew what time it really was! Fireworks began going off about 15 minutes before my clock said 12:00 a.m., and they continued until long after 1:00 a.m. If there hadn’t been as beautiful and as many fireworks, I would say it would have been anticlimactic. Thank goodness for there not being any laws against the selling and setting off of fireworks here otherwise this would be a very different blog post.

I can’t even begin to describe to you what the city looked like. There’s about 2 million people in the city of Dakar. It seemed like every family had their own set of fireworks and were lighting them all at the same time. There wasn’t an area in the sky that wasn’t being grazed by a magical display of greatness. Seriously. I’m not trying to be dramatic. It’s just true! This was truly a great celebration into my last year in Senegal. Thank you Dakar!

Anyways, next time you feel like going anywhere for New Year’s, I’d suggest Dakar. It’s beautiful, especially when you’re bringing in the year right: with a glimmer of hope and the next generation of African leaders.

Photo Credit:

Mamadou Toure Behan/AFP/Getty Images

http://www.theatlantic.com/infocus/2013/01/new-years-celebrations-around-the-world/100431/

Pamoja: Senegal

I would love to say I was bored at work and created this, but we’re totally busy and this is one of the creations that came from said busyness. I’ll write a blog updating you on what’s happened within our ministry and why we’re doing Pamoja in Senegal and not in Ngeria, but here’s what I have so far. It says, “Your power to give a compassionate witness about Jesus to unbelievers will grow in direct proportion to how precious Jesus is to you.”

Have you the news?

In Senegal when you’re asking about someone’s family you ask, “Have you the news of ___?” We  frequently hear from our precious friends here, “Have you the news of Whitney, Rachel, Paige or Michelle?” And we know they are asking how they are, what they’re up to, and if they send their greetings. If anyone asks you in America if you have the news of Mary, here’s what you can say:

The old, broken A/C unit in my bedroom has come back from the evil snares of hell and is blissfully kissing my sweat-soaked skin with a cold breeze. Have I died and gone to heaven? Sorry, I just fell into a joy driven daydream about my A/C unit. That’s awkward… We have air conditioning in one room and we’ve already established boundaries to it. Considering the high cost of electricity, we don’t want running it to be the norm. We don’t wanna become too luxurious here. But tonight’s our first night with it so you better believe I’m busting out my comforter and pretending like it’s really fall (Side note: It’s been in the mid to upper 80s every morning with a heat index of over 105, pretty much daily. Sweating is a new hobby. Eat that, water retention!).

There may have been tears of joy.

Okay, news number 2:

I’ve decided that I am the world’s worst about daily disciplines-whether that’s spiritual, being intentional in relationships, taking malaria medicine/bringing it to Senegal at all, working out.. Wait, did working out just come out of my mouth? Yes. I am now an active member of the “Let’s Get Fit” club. Okay, so that club doesn’t really exist that I know of, but all the girls on my STINT team love exercising in the morning. I am now working on developing a workout schedule for every day of the week to help become more disciplined. So, if you follow me on Pinterest and you see 329,487 posts about fitness, don’t be alarmed. I’m just trying to find workouts I like, will actually do, and ones that are creative and fun.

News Number 3:

Katie and I are quite excited about next weekend. Why you ask? We were asked to lead a seminar at a women’s retreat for missionary women throughout Dakar, Senegal, the Gambia, and outlaying countries. And what’s our topic? Fashion.

I think we’re wanting to address it in a way that isn’t, “Hey ladies, come fit into this box because that’s what the world says is cool.” That’s just not my thing. As Tullian T. says it in his book Unfashionable, Christians don’t do the world’s styles as good as the world does. We’re made to be different. Embrace who God has made you. If you’re a J.Crew girl, get on your sail boat and rock it. If you’re a I-wear-so-many-layers-that-sometimes-make-I-look-like-a-hobo, look like a homeless man for the glory of the Lord (#ilovethelayeredlookalittletoomuch…).

So, that should be interesting. We’re planning that this week. I’m excited to see what we come up with. I’ll let you know how that goes.

With all that said, I’m now going to go into our bedroom that we’ve all newly nicknamed Narnia. It’s like we’ve stepped through the wardrobe into the wintery lands of Narnia! Until next time.

So Far

Bonjour à tous!

Hello to all! We have safely arrived in Senegal and are all doing so well. We are still working on getting fully settled into our apartments and getting adjusted to the humid, hot heat. Although we only experienced two weeks of fall in the United States, I’m missing chunky sweaters, boots and lattés already. Fortunately, our boss Pascal makes us Starbucks coffee before every training session. It will never be too hot for Starbucks.

Thank you to all of those who have been praying for our team’s safety and adjustment here. I feel like the new STINTers are adjusting wonderfully! They are full of questions, eager to learn and are so flexible and willing to try new things. It’s been very encouraging seeing them step out in faith and try new things everyday. We might still be in the honeymoon phase, so I would love for you to come alongside of us and pray against intense culture shock. I know it’s going to hit all of us in different ways, but I pray that our team would find hope and security in the culture of heaven and not in our native culture. Would you be praying for wisdom for the returning STINTers on how to help the first-year STINTers adjust? We can’t make Senegal easy for them, but we would love to walk through the ups and downs of cross-cultural living with them. So, please be praying for that.

Ministry Wise:

This past week our team went through ministry training with Pascal. It was so informative and refreshing to cast vision for what this year will look like and how to accomplish our goals. Pascal is really great at helping us learn culture and what does and doesn’t work here. We’re so thankful for him!

Today we did language learning with Pascal. I love learning French; note: my college French professors would probably argue with that statement.  Je ne suis pas un maître de français…

Lastly, us girls hosted a welcome back party with some of our friends from last year. I think around 15 girls came. We’re excited for what the Lord will do in these women’s lives this year and how He’ll use our new team!

 

At the airport headed to Senegal!

My friends, Awa, Awa, Awa and Awa. My Senegalese name happens to also be Awa.

 

In The Hustle and Bustle of the Quiet

One of my favorite things I’m learning is how to be quiet and still before God and allow Him to be Lord in my life.

Coming back to America was a lot more difficult than I had anticipated in some ways and a lot easier in others. I miss the warm African sun on my unusually pale skin. I miss hearing Wolof, even if it does sound like people are incredibly angry all the time. I miss being on campus around college students who are so vivacious and eager to learn; students who have been hardened by their difficult lives but still know that there is something more than this. I miss my friends like DiaDia, Koudu, Monique, Alice, Yvonne, Rebecca, Ida, Awa and Pacifique. I miss walking through life with my STINT team and being spurred on to chase after God with my whole heart everyday. I miss seeing people’s need for Jesus; it’s so easy to mask that need in America.

I love that God has me in this quiet place of rest for now while I am learning to wrestle through my heart that still longs for Africa. I am learning that this (America, family, friends) is my ministry right now. The God I followed to Africa is the God I want to follow wherever-even if that is all over America in 50 days.  I listened to a sermon the other day by a pastor named Jeff Parrish. He said in parallel to our lives, “You learn how to trust [God]. I have watched Jesus put these disciples in situations to teach them to trust him…” Amen. I said, can I get an amen? I fully expect you to get up out of your seat and let out a firm, “Amen.” It’ll feel good. Do it.

I am learning to be still, be quiet and allow God to be the Lord of my life. I am so thankful and excited about being a part of what God is doing in Senegal. I love that He has led me to return to Senegal and be His hands and His feet. With that being said, I don’t want to neglect who He has called me to be on a daily basis and to be a part of building His kingdom here and now. Wherever ‘here’ happens to be that day…

Here’s what I’m thankful for right now: Jesus. Friends. Family. Truth. Access To The Word And The Body. Air-Conditioning. Encouragement. Support. Clean Water. Sunshine. The English Language. Panera. Clean Bed Sheets. A Mattress. My Phone. My Resurrected Computer. Clear Communication. Grace. Sweet Tea. Lemonade. Constant Electricity (sorry Senegal). Microwaves. Lattés. Old People. Target.

Dear _____,

It’s that time again for a new blog post, but I ran out of new and creative ideas for blogs. I hope you don’t mind I’ve stolen this topic from a fellow missionary (Jenn). I hope you enjoy it!

Dear Dust Storm 2012,

I really, really love the wind you bring to Dakar. The cool spring breeze upon my freshly sunkissed face is marvelous. I can’t explain to people how much I love it when you make my hair dance in the wind.

This picture is of a missionary friend, Tricia’s, house. They got it worse than we did for sure!

What I don’t like about you, however, is that when my happiness eludes me and a large smile sweeps across my face, you- in all your glory- hit me in the face with excess dirt. I am getting rather sick of having brushed my pearly whites, only minutes later to feel like I bit the dust while running down a sand dune (Katie).

This just isn’t working out for me. I might see you around, but I really would prefer for you to clean yourself up next time around.

Sincerely,

Crusty.

Dear Ladies Outside the Mosque,

I. Love. You. Buganala torop.

I love the fact that we don’t speak each other’s language, yet we get so much joy out of seeing each other. One day, I would love to be able to sit with you and find out about your life. If only I could speak Pular, Wolof, and Serar… un jour mes amies… un jour!

Even though I can see the hardness of African life on every wrinkle on your face, I think you are all so beautiful. You are all so unique and welcoming. You were created for a purpose and you are so incredibly loved by the maker of Heaven and Earth.

Sincerely,

Yaangi Ci Sama Xol, Buganala

Dear Americans Who Donate Clothes To Africa,

Please do not send used underwear.

Sincerely,

Person Who Sifts Through “Gently” Used Underwear At The Market

The day our team learned about dating: scratch that: chocolate bars

Our national director, Pascal, is awesome. Pascal is a Senegalese man, aged around late 30s, father of two, and husband to the beautiful Aurelie. Let me tell you something about Pascal, that man loves to laugh. At nearly every meeting we have at Pascal’s, our team goal is to make Pascal laugh so hard he cries. We’ve succeeded twice.

One day Aaron told us, “We have another meeting with Pascal after our prayer meeting. We’re dating with Pascal.”

Excuse me? Est-ce que tu peut repete s-il vous plait? Dating with Pascal?

Yup. Ladies and gentlemen, c’est vrai. After 7/8 of us spent our Valentine’s day flying solo, Pascal thought he’d help us desperate, barely maneagable singles. Is it really that apparent that even in this culture that we are in dire need of a resuscitation into the dating world? Yup. Lord help us….

The first thing to know about dating in Senegal is that women are prized commodities, sort of.  You see, when a man wants to marry a woman he is supposed to give something like a dowry to the bride’s family. Pascal is our family here, so he has priced us all appropriately. I, personally, am worth a whopping 50 goats. Rachel, because she is blonde and has a boyfriend in the United States, is worth 100 goats. Pascal joking states that we all need to get married because he wants his goats. Now that we’ve started our dating lessons, I don’t think he’s really joking.

How endearing it is to know I'm worth this fight times 50. What a warrior...

The first thing Pascal asked us where we are on the dating spectrum: left side-dating, right side-marriage. He asked, “Mary, where are you on this line?” I replied, “About a foot away from where the paper begins on the left side.” My response was as if I said something completely horrificly perverse in front of his 105-year-old grandma. [again, I think he is banking on those goats]… His reaction wasn’t truly that bad; I’m being way overdramatic, but I think he was shocked to hear about half of us say we don’t date/aren’t dating/don’t plan on dating soon.

We then learned about what love is: agape, phileo, and eros; serving, giving, selfless, not based on an emotion, etc… We learned what it isn’t: lust, infatuation, self-seeking, prideful, controlling, arrogant, romance, etc. It was actually really helpful for me to better put into practice how to love everyone the way God does. But then…

Our homework was to be thinking about what kind of spouse we want. He then said, “I asked all the girls at our church’s dating conference what they wanted in a man. Do you know what they said, ‘I want a man with chocolate bars.’ Do you know what chocolate bars are?”

If you're picturing this, you're only half-way right.

I’m sorry. Even after the typical announcement of, “We’re all adults here…”, I could not keep my laughter in. I hid my face in my hands and started cracking up for a good three minutes. My uncontrollable ruckus was caused mostly because::

1. I don’t know what chocolate bars are and was too scared to find out.

2. Typically when around the opposite sex, I get a rare case of an undiagnosable disease that makes my hands sweat and truly unflattering, illogical sentences fly right out of my mouth. [Have I not told the goat story? Oh, just the worst date ever. Not with a goat. Gosh. So Awkward; it's painful]. Talking about dating/chocolate bars with an older man just made it worse. Only solution: laugh like a 5th grader sitting through the first ever health class.

3. Even if I am almost 24-years-old, talking about relationships, seeing people fall, or hearing someone fart STILL cracks me up.

Turns out, chocolate bars are an African man’s meticulously chisled abs. Chocolate bars. Don’t let that sink it too much ladies.

So, I will keep you informed on what else we learn, how we’ve been practicing (or not), and our success with the Senegalese’s method of dating as soon as more news is to be reported. Well, I’ll probably just keep you updated until he finds out about this blog and asks me to take it down. If I hear anymore dating slang, I might just keep it to myself because as I’m sure you all love it, I’m slightly mortified knowing my mom checks my blog everyday. [Sorry Mom].

Until next time!

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

Why Bubbles Don’t Work.

Life is not a bubble.

As much as I try to create a comfort-friendly, 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 I created 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.

Sometimes here, 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, 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.