Sorry it has been so long since posting. I am still hoping to do the bits on personality characteristics of nationals here. I haven’t had time to write like I wish.
However I did want to update about the turmoil here. Things have been back to normal or busier in the last few days. Shops are reopening, taxis are running, and everyone and their brother are on the streets because they haven’t been in so long.
There have been some rumors that things could get ugly again Monday. The majority of people don’t seem to agree with the possibility. But continue to remember the situation here.
Stay on the look out for a Day of Prayer. We want to join together – all of us here with all of our partners around the world – to lift up this country. Our goal is to find a time where people all over the world can be joined together for the benefit of the people here. I’ll give you more when I know it. Also look for a new update letter soon.
Thanks for everything!
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Saturday, November 05, 2005
"So Long, Farewell..."
They tell me the hardest thing about this job is having to say goodbye so many times. People flow in and out of here frequently. Volunteers come in and become a part of your life. They fall in love with the people you know and work with and then they are gone. It hurts when they go.
However they are usually only here a short time. Some stay for weeks some stay for months. Tonight I’ll watch another friend leave. She isn’t a volunteer and she hasn’t been here a couple months. Steph has spent almost two years of her life here and it isn’t hard to see she has fallen in love. It is a struggle for her to leave and a struggle for us to see her go.
We met just over two years ago. I was headed here for the summer and she was looking to spend two years in Africa. She wasn’t sure where and we only knew each other through mutual friends. I put a two week team together and our friends connected us. She joined the team and spent two weeks here touching lives as hers too was changed. Nearly two years ago she returned and her impact on this world is evident.
I have never seen a person so committed to living her life completely for the people she is called to reach. She pours out all that she has and then some. She is an example to all followers of living ones life solely committed to the purpose we are called to. She is passionate about following the master and committed to pursuing his call.
Now she is headed home. For a time she will rest and spend time with loved ones. Then without fail she will be gone again. I don’t know where the call will lead her but I know the call will come and I know that she will follow. I can’t wait to hear the stories.
I’ll miss her soon after we drop her at the airport tonight. I’ll miss her smile. I’ll miss her patience. I’ll miss her commitment. I’ll miss her never failing perseverance. I pray before hand for those she will meet on the journey ahead. I pray they are prepared because wherever she goes the truth goes with her. It is impossible to come into her presence and not recognize you have just collided with the master reincarnate.
He awaits the day he will greet her with a, “Well done my good and faithful servant!”
However they are usually only here a short time. Some stay for weeks some stay for months. Tonight I’ll watch another friend leave. She isn’t a volunteer and she hasn’t been here a couple months. Steph has spent almost two years of her life here and it isn’t hard to see she has fallen in love. It is a struggle for her to leave and a struggle for us to see her go.
We met just over two years ago. I was headed here for the summer and she was looking to spend two years in Africa. She wasn’t sure where and we only knew each other through mutual friends. I put a two week team together and our friends connected us. She joined the team and spent two weeks here touching lives as hers too was changed. Nearly two years ago she returned and her impact on this world is evident.
I have never seen a person so committed to living her life completely for the people she is called to reach. She pours out all that she has and then some. She is an example to all followers of living ones life solely committed to the purpose we are called to. She is passionate about following the master and committed to pursuing his call.
Now she is headed home. For a time she will rest and spend time with loved ones. Then without fail she will be gone again. I don’t know where the call will lead her but I know the call will come and I know that she will follow. I can’t wait to hear the stories.
I’ll miss her soon after we drop her at the airport tonight. I’ll miss her smile. I’ll miss her patience. I’ll miss her commitment. I’ll miss her never failing perseverance. I pray before hand for those she will meet on the journey ahead. I pray they are prepared because wherever she goes the truth goes with her. It is impossible to come into her presence and not recognize you have just collided with the master reincarnate.
He awaits the day he will greet her with a, “Well done my good and faithful servant!”
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
A Bit Depressed...
I’ve been down the last couple days. Some tough stuff has been going on.
Monday morning I got word that a pastor I know died. I didn’t know Kyle well. We had met a couple of times. I wasn’t involved at UBC, but my friend Mark was and some other friends. When it happened my mind went to Craig. Craig and I aren’t the best of friends either. We know each other. We were in Jason’s wedding together. Craig was great friends with Kyle. Craig often kept Kyle’s three children. Craig loves those kids. Craig loves UBC. Craig loved Kyle. I’ve been depressed the last day or two thinking about Craig and Kyle’s family, and UBC.
From what I understand, Kyle was about to baptize in his church of probably over 90% Baylor students. It was Baylor’s homecoming so the numbers were greater. Apparently a microphone shocked him somehow and electrocuted him to death as he stood in the water.
How do things like this happen? How does a 31 year old guy die? How does a man who is passionate about reaching college students die in the midst of a worship service? The questions are more prevalent that the answers. It hurts. I trust God, but I don’t quite understand this and probably never will.
Monday night I lost another friend. She didn’t pass away but she left. She is a national here. She is 22 or 23 and a beautiful girl. Most the women here are beautiful by the way. Yemi left for Dubai. She continuously ran into road blocks here with school and work. She saw no way to improve her life here so she left. She has a responsibility to provide for her family. She has gone to Dubai to be a house worker for a man there. He is 29 and single. He is pretty demanding as I understand. Typically the people that step into these situations have a few guarantees: they will be paid little. They will likely be abused…physically, emotionally, verbally, and probably sexually.
The thoughts of this girl being abused devastate me. She is moving towards faith. She isn’t quite there, but she is asking great questions. She is even getting some persecution from her family because of her questions. Now she is headed to the Muslim world.
The hope is that miracles will happen. The hope is that she will be safe. The hope is that she will meet the master in that place. Join with me in lifting her up.
To add to troubles, today is psycho. Riots have started again. They began yesterday. According to CNN.com 8 were killed yesterday 40 or more were injured. There was more shooting today. The American Embassy is telling us to stay away from some areas of town (one is actually my neighborhood). We are all safe and holed up in our homes, but it is crushing.
The city is in an uproar. We long for peace. We hope for wisdom as compromises are reached among different parties. We don’t have the news sources that most of you are used to. Therefore we don’t know much. We don’t know where trouble is. We don’t see video clips of what is going on. We don’t have newspapers to read about the problems. We merely sit and wait for things to return to normal.
Approach the throne with me.
Monday morning I got word that a pastor I know died. I didn’t know Kyle well. We had met a couple of times. I wasn’t involved at UBC, but my friend Mark was and some other friends. When it happened my mind went to Craig. Craig and I aren’t the best of friends either. We know each other. We were in Jason’s wedding together. Craig was great friends with Kyle. Craig often kept Kyle’s three children. Craig loves those kids. Craig loves UBC. Craig loved Kyle. I’ve been depressed the last day or two thinking about Craig and Kyle’s family, and UBC.
From what I understand, Kyle was about to baptize in his church of probably over 90% Baylor students. It was Baylor’s homecoming so the numbers were greater. Apparently a microphone shocked him somehow and electrocuted him to death as he stood in the water.
How do things like this happen? How does a 31 year old guy die? How does a man who is passionate about reaching college students die in the midst of a worship service? The questions are more prevalent that the answers. It hurts. I trust God, but I don’t quite understand this and probably never will.
Monday night I lost another friend. She didn’t pass away but she left. She is a national here. She is 22 or 23 and a beautiful girl. Most the women here are beautiful by the way. Yemi left for Dubai. She continuously ran into road blocks here with school and work. She saw no way to improve her life here so she left. She has a responsibility to provide for her family. She has gone to Dubai to be a house worker for a man there. He is 29 and single. He is pretty demanding as I understand. Typically the people that step into these situations have a few guarantees: they will be paid little. They will likely be abused…physically, emotionally, verbally, and probably sexually.
The thoughts of this girl being abused devastate me. She is moving towards faith. She isn’t quite there, but she is asking great questions. She is even getting some persecution from her family because of her questions. Now she is headed to the Muslim world.
The hope is that miracles will happen. The hope is that she will be safe. The hope is that she will meet the master in that place. Join with me in lifting her up.
To add to troubles, today is psycho. Riots have started again. They began yesterday. According to CNN.com 8 were killed yesterday 40 or more were injured. There was more shooting today. The American Embassy is telling us to stay away from some areas of town (one is actually my neighborhood). We are all safe and holed up in our homes, but it is crushing.
The city is in an uproar. We long for peace. We hope for wisdom as compromises are reached among different parties. We don’t have the news sources that most of you are used to. Therefore we don’t know much. We don’t know where trouble is. We don’t see video clips of what is going on. We don’t have newspapers to read about the problems. We merely sit and wait for things to return to normal.
Approach the throne with me.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Conservationists...
The nationals here are kings at using things until they can’t be used anymore. I guess it comes from knowing the reality of having little. They say people in the states who lived through the depression have a similar mindset. But I’ve never known anyone quite like this; especially an entire culture that gets the most out of everything. Let me give some examples.
What you and I would consider trash in the states often doesn’t count as trash here. It is never littering to throw an empty plastic bottle or Pringles can out the car window. It is actually quite fun for us. The children look as if Christmas has come early when they see one skidding down the road or bouncing across the grass having just come from a moving car. Bottles are good for multiple things after you and I finish our filtered water. They are toys for children. They carry water for laundry, drinking, washing, etc. They make good storage containers. One in my own cabinets stores tea or something my house worker uses.
Speaking of trash and my worker, my trash is never safe from scouting. It is probably gone through multiple times after leaving my hands to go into the trash. My house worker goes through it first. I have found jars, jugs, Ziploc’s (I don’t even bother throwing these away now as I know they will be washed and reused), and Pringles cans to name a few things in the room she works in. After her my guard checks the trash. Then he gives it to the collection ladies who surely check it again. They take it to a collection point where it is surely checked again. Then it is hauled to a dump where I have often seen scavengers perusing.
Today as I was driving down the road I saw a young boy playing with a toy. I was never very good at flying a kite. I could figure out the hold the string and put the kite in the air thing, but I could never get it to fly unless I was running with it trailing a few feet behind me. The boy I saw was doing something similar. He had tied a piece of brown cord to a plastic bag. He ran down the street with his blue bag floating in the air just behind him. Plastic grocery sacks have multiple uses here too. My favorite is to see them used as rain hoods.
This shows a bit of how well they reuse, but let me share with you a couple illustrations of how they use things well the first time. It is typical in the states to go to a restaurant and find a ketchup bottle on the table. If it isn’t there originally it at least makes its way out once it is needed. Here it is rare to see the bottle. The nationals eat every bit of food on their plate and use every bit of any condiment available. Ketchup is usually put on the plate with fries. If you ask for more it is often brought in a dish. I go once in a while with a friend to have a burger; he loves them. I watch as he eats every bit of ketchup on his plate. He even licks up what he doesn’t finish with his fries. Now my sister is weird about ketchup, but this isn’t a ketchup thing it is a using all that is available thing. I am told that if the entire bottle were brought out, it would finish the meal empty no matter how much was in it at the beginning.
I could go on and on with stories of how well things are used and reused here. However my desire isn’t to bore you here, it is just to give you a taste of the culture.
What you and I would consider trash in the states often doesn’t count as trash here. It is never littering to throw an empty plastic bottle or Pringles can out the car window. It is actually quite fun for us. The children look as if Christmas has come early when they see one skidding down the road or bouncing across the grass having just come from a moving car. Bottles are good for multiple things after you and I finish our filtered water. They are toys for children. They carry water for laundry, drinking, washing, etc. They make good storage containers. One in my own cabinets stores tea or something my house worker uses.
Speaking of trash and my worker, my trash is never safe from scouting. It is probably gone through multiple times after leaving my hands to go into the trash. My house worker goes through it first. I have found jars, jugs, Ziploc’s (I don’t even bother throwing these away now as I know they will be washed and reused), and Pringles cans to name a few things in the room she works in. After her my guard checks the trash. Then he gives it to the collection ladies who surely check it again. They take it to a collection point where it is surely checked again. Then it is hauled to a dump where I have often seen scavengers perusing.
Today as I was driving down the road I saw a young boy playing with a toy. I was never very good at flying a kite. I could figure out the hold the string and put the kite in the air thing, but I could never get it to fly unless I was running with it trailing a few feet behind me. The boy I saw was doing something similar. He had tied a piece of brown cord to a plastic bag. He ran down the street with his blue bag floating in the air just behind him. Plastic grocery sacks have multiple uses here too. My favorite is to see them used as rain hoods.
This shows a bit of how well they reuse, but let me share with you a couple illustrations of how they use things well the first time. It is typical in the states to go to a restaurant and find a ketchup bottle on the table. If it isn’t there originally it at least makes its way out once it is needed. Here it is rare to see the bottle. The nationals eat every bit of food on their plate and use every bit of any condiment available. Ketchup is usually put on the plate with fries. If you ask for more it is often brought in a dish. I go once in a while with a friend to have a burger; he loves them. I watch as he eats every bit of ketchup on his plate. He even licks up what he doesn’t finish with his fries. Now my sister is weird about ketchup, but this isn’t a ketchup thing it is a using all that is available thing. I am told that if the entire bottle were brought out, it would finish the meal empty no matter how much was in it at the beginning.
I could go on and on with stories of how well things are used and reused here. However my desire isn’t to bore you here, it is just to give you a taste of the culture.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Catching Up...
I want to share a few things with you to catch you up on what is happening and what will be happening.
Thanks for everything. Thank you for staying faithful in lifting up me, the nationals, and the work here. Know that you are thought of and remembered often.
- I am recovering from malaria nicely. Saturday I was even able to play some basketball. Still have some issues with some pain in my ears. In the near future, when I get off my butt, I will go see a specialist about them.
- The time down with illness bored me to death. But interestingly, now I am having a tough time jumping back into society. I’m not sure what it is that has me hesitant, but I’m having to force myself to get out in the streets these days. Remember this with me as being with people is the core of my responsibility here.
- The next week and a half or so I am really diving into the discipleship material I have mentioned to you. We would like to have something to test in the next couple of weeks so I will be trying to get that together.
- After wrapping some of the material stuff up I will be getting more involved with my mapping project. I am going to hire a helper and commit several days a week to nothing but mapping.
- The guys that lived with me and have been gone for the last month will return today. They will be here a couple weeks or so. Ask that relationships flourish while they are here with me. Ask for patience and flexibility as we deal with new living situations…again.
- Some of you have asked about pictures. You likely see six to the right of this entry. If you click on any one of them they will take you to one of six slide shows of several pictures. Many are labeled and have descriptions of what is going on or where it was taken. I think you even have the ability to go to a specific picture and print it or download it to your computer. If you have problems let me know.
- I want to write a series of entries for this page. Each entry will describe a generalized characteristic of the people here. My hope is to give you a better glimpse into what the people here look and act like. My hope is to write/post one a day. We’ll see how that goes. Let me give a warning I will give again later. Some of the characteristics will be negatives based on my perception. It might even sound like I am complaining about or slamming the people. Remember I am in love with the people of this culture. I am going to be honest with my feelings and opinions as I analyze and critique. That doesn’t change that I love the people and the culture here and love the chance to live in the midst of it.
Thanks for everything. Thank you for staying faithful in lifting up me, the nationals, and the work here. Know that you are thought of and remembered often.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Getting There...
I’ve been hoping to give you more stories in the last few days. The truth is…I don’t have much to share. I’ve been spending my days working out of home. I’m not fully recovered yet so my return to the world has been slow. They say the malaria hit pretty hard and took several days to be diagnosed so it still may be a bit before I’m back to 100%.
The biggest problems currently have to do with some dizziness and tiredness. I’ve not been able to go a full day yet. I get tired earlier than usual.
I’ve had a good weekend hanging with some friends though. It is so great to have found some people to spend time with.
Thanks for continuing to lift me up as I recover.
The biggest problems currently have to do with some dizziness and tiredness. I’ve not been able to go a full day yet. I get tired earlier than usual.
I’ve had a good weekend hanging with some friends though. It is so great to have found some people to spend time with.
Thanks for continuing to lift me up as I recover.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Recovering and Newsletter
A new newsletter has been sent out. So look for it in your inboxes. When you get it you will see that I am starting to feel better. We learned Saturday that I had malaria. I have taken the medicine for it but they say it still may be a few days before I regain my energy. Somewhere in the process I also acquired a worm. Isn’t that gross?
Had some stories planned for here but ended up including most on the newsletter. So I hope to get some new things up here soon.
Also in the next few days there will be a new category of pictures on the right. I have taken a storage room outside my house and turned it into a type of prayer room. I put some cushions and things out there. On the walls I put pictures of some faces and scenes to encourage me and inspire me as I pray. I want to make the same pictures available to you. So in the next few days you’ll find a link to the slideshow.
Thanks for lifting me up while I’ve been sick. Don’t quit yet as I’m not quite out of the woods.
Had some stories planned for here but ended up including most on the newsletter. So I hope to get some new things up here soon.
Also in the next few days there will be a new category of pictures on the right. I have taken a storage room outside my house and turned it into a type of prayer room. I put some cushions and things out there. On the walls I put pictures of some faces and scenes to encourage me and inspire me as I pray. I want to make the same pictures available to you. So in the next few days you’ll find a link to the slideshow.
Thanks for lifting me up while I’ve been sick. Don’t quit yet as I’m not quite out of the woods.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Sickly...
If you have a chance lift up healing. Been sick since Saturday. Fever climbing over 102. Had one meal since Satuday night...barphed it back up. Sore body. The list goes on. Docs not sure the problem. Pray with me! Thanks
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Stuff I'm Reading...
Closing sentence in an essay: "If we don't pray according to the needs of the heart, we repress our deepest longings. Our prayers may not be rational, and we may be quite aware of that, but if we repress our needs, then those unsaid prayers will fester." - Madeleine L'Engle in Glimpses of Grace
Opening sentence in an essay: "An agnostic is somebody who doesn't know for sure whether there really is a God. That is some people all of the time and all people some of the time." Frederick Buechner in Beyond Words
Opening sentence in an essay: "An agnostic is somebody who doesn't know for sure whether there really is a God. That is some people all of the time and all people some of the time." Frederick Buechner in Beyond Words
Worship...
I had a chance to worship Friday night. Sadly those occurrences have become less frequent.
Weekly I meet with some friends and coworkers. We gather together in one of our houses to worship together. For some reason those events stopped being worship for me. I don't know what changed. I know our numbers have grown. I know the time has become more structured.
Perhaps it is the growth. Perhaps it is the lack of fluidity. Perhaps it is the separation of children from the grown ups. I'm not a fan of that part. A couple of years ago I read a book that began to change my mind about the participation of children in worship.
Now I'm still too western, so misbehaving children distract and frustrate me at times. But if I remain focused on the love of the master I can recognize that even he called the little children to him. We work so hard at keeping our children quiet and behaved when we worship. We tell them "come as you are" but we show them "you better come like I say you should."
Friday I was given the responsibility of hanging out with the two children that were with us. One was three the other was five. They are precious and sometimes wild. They love to laugh and play. I wasn't given much prep time considering I got their lesson as I walked up the stairs with them. Afterwards I was happy for the lack of preparation. We were able to play. Now we didn't get out toys and go crazy. We spent an hour or so playing with the master.
We laughed and tickled and wrestled a bit. Then Jackson found a piano keyboard under a shelf and he wanted to play with it. Now western me surfaced and I started to say, "No this isnt play time." Then I remembered to let the children come as they are. Jackson banged on the keyboard. Hannah sang on the attached microphone. They picked songs from Jesus Loves Me to Open the Eyes of my Heart. Together we sang and laughed and worshiped.
I miss worship. It was such a beautiful night.
Weekly I meet with some friends and coworkers. We gather together in one of our houses to worship together. For some reason those events stopped being worship for me. I don't know what changed. I know our numbers have grown. I know the time has become more structured.
Perhaps it is the growth. Perhaps it is the lack of fluidity. Perhaps it is the separation of children from the grown ups. I'm not a fan of that part. A couple of years ago I read a book that began to change my mind about the participation of children in worship.
Now I'm still too western, so misbehaving children distract and frustrate me at times. But if I remain focused on the love of the master I can recognize that even he called the little children to him. We work so hard at keeping our children quiet and behaved when we worship. We tell them "come as you are" but we show them "you better come like I say you should."
Friday I was given the responsibility of hanging out with the two children that were with us. One was three the other was five. They are precious and sometimes wild. They love to laugh and play. I wasn't given much prep time considering I got their lesson as I walked up the stairs with them. Afterwards I was happy for the lack of preparation. We were able to play. Now we didn't get out toys and go crazy. We spent an hour or so playing with the master.
We laughed and tickled and wrestled a bit. Then Jackson found a piano keyboard under a shelf and he wanted to play with it. Now western me surfaced and I started to say, "No this isnt play time." Then I remembered to let the children come as they are. Jackson banged on the keyboard. Hannah sang on the attached microphone. They picked songs from Jesus Loves Me to Open the Eyes of my Heart. Together we sang and laughed and worshiped.
I miss worship. It was such a beautiful night.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Happy New Year...
Yesterday afternoon I went to play basketball for a couple hours. I came home to find a chicken in my yard. I wasn't sure what was going on. I asked my guard, "Whose chicken is this?" "It is my brothers," he responded in a manner like I should have assumed the answer before asking the question.
It is New Years here. 1998 began today. I don't know the story behind why it is still 1998. I only know Y2K is fast approaching and yesterday and today are cause for great celebration. Even poor families will dish out the money to buy a chicken or a goat or an ox to eat.
It is four in the afternoon. I have had three meals already. None of them were dinner. Tradition here is that you celebrate the New Year by inviting friends and family to join you for a meal. When a white person becomes part of the tradition it means they invite you for a meal and likely won't eat with you.
The problem with being a white guy with national friends is that you get more invites than you can accommodate. I turned down two offers for lunch and accepted two.
The first lunch started at about 10:30. We ate a ton. They refuse to ever let you stop eating. "Eat, eat!" they say. And eat I did. I ate so much at the first lunch I was stuffed. Then I headed to the second.
The second was in the home of my house worker. This was the first time I had been invited to her new home. It has two rooms. You enter into what they call a salon; we would likely call it a living room. Just behind that room is a multipurpose bedroom/kitchen.
Two of her four children were there, along with a son-in-law and a two week old grandbaby. It was great to be in her home with her family. She is a wonderful, loving lady. Her family is also. They are devout Orthodox. They very much love the God of their understanding. My struggle is that that God speaks very little of grace or love.
As the new begins here I hope this will be a time of newness in all of life. She has a new year, a new house, a new grandbaby, and my prayer is she will gain a new perspective of the God who died to show his love for her.
It is New Years here. 1998 began today. I don't know the story behind why it is still 1998. I only know Y2K is fast approaching and yesterday and today are cause for great celebration. Even poor families will dish out the money to buy a chicken or a goat or an ox to eat.
It is four in the afternoon. I have had three meals already. None of them were dinner. Tradition here is that you celebrate the New Year by inviting friends and family to join you for a meal. When a white person becomes part of the tradition it means they invite you for a meal and likely won't eat with you.
The problem with being a white guy with national friends is that you get more invites than you can accommodate. I turned down two offers for lunch and accepted two.
The first lunch started at about 10:30. We ate a ton. They refuse to ever let you stop eating. "Eat, eat!" they say. And eat I did. I ate so much at the first lunch I was stuffed. Then I headed to the second.
The second was in the home of my house worker. This was the first time I had been invited to her new home. It has two rooms. You enter into what they call a salon; we would likely call it a living room. Just behind that room is a multipurpose bedroom/kitchen.
Two of her four children were there, along with a son-in-law and a two week old grandbaby. It was great to be in her home with her family. She is a wonderful, loving lady. Her family is also. They are devout Orthodox. They very much love the God of their understanding. My struggle is that that God speaks very little of grace or love.
As the new begins here I hope this will be a time of newness in all of life. She has a new year, a new house, a new grandbaby, and my prayer is she will gain a new perspective of the God who died to show his love for her.
Friday, September 09, 2005
Crooked Umbrella...
[Listening to: Africa - Toto - Billboard Top Hits - 1983 (4:22)]
What a day. It feels like it began weeks ago. Throughout a day I will have something happen and want to write about it. Today it happened more times than I can count or write about. The morning started with a meeting with an old friend I haven't seen in months. We had a macchiato and a donut together at a café.
Then he went with me to the post office. It is a mile or two from the house and takes some walking and one minibus (see previous posts for explanation). Today I couldn't get a minibus. I was also struck by an older couple there waiting too. The woman wore a white blanket of sorts which is customary. Her head was covered and she was in her 50s or 60s. She was trying hard to get a taxi.
The man with her had something wrong with his eyes. My friend found out he had just had surgery. He walked with a cane and clearly felt helpless. As she fought for a taxi see he sat on a stool beside the road.
After many failures my heart was broken for her. We waited probably 30 minutes with them. I gave up on a taxi, but had to get them on one before I would leave. I said a brief prayer silently asking for a contract taxi. Finally one came along.
I flagged them down and waved the lady and my friend over. "Get a good price for her," I told my friend. He did and she got in. We helped the man into the back seat which was a struggle. I handed the driver the money. The woman would have waited all day before paying the extra to ride in a contract taxi. She thanked me repeatedly and kissed my hand. I wished her a happy new year and muttered a few things about God blessing her.
As we left me friend said, "That was a good think you did for her." I couldn't stand to see them continue to fight for a seat with no help. I believe firmly the truth is seen in our lives. We don't always need to speak words to show the master. Today that couple saw the love of the master in a white man who paid barely over a dollar for a taxi ride. It felt good.
It started raining before getting home. We had a bunch of people coming to our house tonight so we needed to make a grocery run. We waited on a break in the rain. It slowed. We went to the grocery by minibus. The first store didn't have tomato sauce. I stopped at a second store to get some for spaghetti sauce our worker was making.
On the way out I had a boo boo. I slipped on the wet stairs. PARALLEL! My feet were the same level as my head. I caught the rail with my left hand to no avail. The jars of sauce shattered in the plastic bag in my right hand. It hurt so badly. My umbrella has a big bend in the middle.
At places like this they have a guard that helps watch cars and direct them in and out of the lot. He rushed to my side. He grabbed my arm and started pulling. Now the average guard at a place like this grew up with Moses. Not really but he was no young man. And he was about 1/3 the size of me. After much pleading I convinced him to wait. I needed to get my bearings before coming back up. I knew my elbow was sore from receiving the brunt of the fall, but I decided I was okay. After a few seconds I rose.
I turned to find two more men there to check on me. One tried to convince me I should sit and rest a while. I politely refused. The whole store stared. I was embarrassed. I couldn't even tell what they were saying about the fat white guy who fell down the stairs.
Humbly I walked back in the store and bought the last remaining jar of sauce. I used the rail the next time out. I got on a taxi and went home. I laughed with my roommates at my umbrella and my fall. Life goes on!
Later in the afternoon we were able to play with some children on the street in front of our house. It was beautiful to see them laugh as we played with a football and Frisbee. They are terrible at both, but they sure enjoyed it.
Today was the kind of day that ends in exhaustion. But days like this also end with a big smile. Today was a good day!
Oh yeah! And happy birthday Mom!
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Dentists and Spiders...
I went to see a dentist today. I wasn't going to get my teeth looked at. I'll be honest and tell you I was a bit terrified of the whole African dentist thing. I was pleasantly surprised.
I was going to meet the dentist because a dentist from the States is coming here next week. The visiting dentist will present an oral hygiene presentation at the resource center. The dentist's office is just above our center. We wanted to extend an invitation to the doctor and his helpers.
Once I climbed the stairs and finally found the office I came into a reception area where a woman in glasses sat behind a desk. All that was on the desk with her was a phone. I greeted her in her language and she asked what I needed. I asked if she spoke English. She said, in her language, "What do you want?" I explained in English. She said, "Have a seat."
I moved to a wall and stood to wait. I was almost forced to sit down. Their hospitality is so great. I sat in a room and waited with 9 nationals. All of them were enthralled. They weren't staring at me which happens quite often. Instead they were lost in the television that hung in the corner just behind me. I didn't have much of a view but I wanted to see what they were all watching.
I heard English but didn't recognize anything. Finally I saw a man running from a house full of spiders and realized it must be Arachnophobia. They were loving it. They love American movies. It has both pros and cons.
The plus is that it helps them learn language. This is one reason we try to stock movies at the resource center (we need more by the way). A downfall is they start to imitate us. They start to dress like us. They start to talk like us. These include all the negatives: to much flesh showing, lots of cussing, etc.
One little girl in the office must have been eight or ten. She was there with her mom and watched the movie intently. I could see her face scrunch as she got scared. I saw her bury her head in her mom's chest once, only to peek through her fingers covering her eyes. She was precious.
Three braided pigtails stuck out of her head sort of like Pippy Longstocking. She wore a white shirt and skirt that clearly went together based on the bright yellow sunflowers that decorated both of them. She wore white tights with an embroidered pattern and white cowboy boots that came just above her ankles.
They caught me watching her. We smiled at each other. They returned to the movie. I kept watching them. People here are so fascinating.
Apparently the receptionists understood me, because I was called to come and speak to a young lady in a black sweater wearing one rubber glove. I asked if she was the dentist and she told me he was gone today. Come to find out he is only there on Tuesday and Thursday; but today was Thursday. He had another program today. She told me to come back next week. I shared the details of the program and invited them all.
This could be a great chance for us to build a relationship. Approach the throne on their behalf.
I was going to meet the dentist because a dentist from the States is coming here next week. The visiting dentist will present an oral hygiene presentation at the resource center. The dentist's office is just above our center. We wanted to extend an invitation to the doctor and his helpers.
Once I climbed the stairs and finally found the office I came into a reception area where a woman in glasses sat behind a desk. All that was on the desk with her was a phone. I greeted her in her language and she asked what I needed. I asked if she spoke English. She said, in her language, "What do you want?" I explained in English. She said, "Have a seat."
I moved to a wall and stood to wait. I was almost forced to sit down. Their hospitality is so great. I sat in a room and waited with 9 nationals. All of them were enthralled. They weren't staring at me which happens quite often. Instead they were lost in the television that hung in the corner just behind me. I didn't have much of a view but I wanted to see what they were all watching.
I heard English but didn't recognize anything. Finally I saw a man running from a house full of spiders and realized it must be Arachnophobia. They were loving it. They love American movies. It has both pros and cons.
The plus is that it helps them learn language. This is one reason we try to stock movies at the resource center (we need more by the way). A downfall is they start to imitate us. They start to dress like us. They start to talk like us. These include all the negatives: to much flesh showing, lots of cussing, etc.
One little girl in the office must have been eight or ten. She was there with her mom and watched the movie intently. I could see her face scrunch as she got scared. I saw her bury her head in her mom's chest once, only to peek through her fingers covering her eyes. She was precious.
Three braided pigtails stuck out of her head sort of like Pippy Longstocking. She wore a white shirt and skirt that clearly went together based on the bright yellow sunflowers that decorated both of them. She wore white tights with an embroidered pattern and white cowboy boots that came just above her ankles.
They caught me watching her. We smiled at each other. They returned to the movie. I kept watching them. People here are so fascinating.
Apparently the receptionists understood me, because I was called to come and speak to a young lady in a black sweater wearing one rubber glove. I asked if she was the dentist and she told me he was gone today. Come to find out he is only there on Tuesday and Thursday; but today was Thursday. He had another program today. She told me to come back next week. I shared the details of the program and invited them all.
This could be a great chance for us to build a relationship. Approach the throne on their behalf.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Driving Miss Daisy...On Speed...
Driving here is a bit crazy. They don't tend to follow western rules or procedure. Many have visited and asked if the lines on the road were merely suggestions. I'm not sure they have that much authority. The typical driver does the majority of learning on a dirt patch with some wooden posts sticking out of the ground. So pavement and lines are a bit of a stretch.
Personally I think it is a blast driving. Reminds me of a video game. Not to mention I drive pretty similar in the states anyway. Ask my parents or Jason.
Two intersections are fairly well known. One is named after the gigantic grain bins that sit in one corner of the intersection. It has numerous nicknames: "malfunction junction," "mass chaos," "confusion corner." Contrary to initial thoughts when viewing the thoroughfare it is actually only a four way intersection. But each lane has three to six lanes of traffic. There are no lights or signs and traffic police only make a bigger mess.
The other is kind of town center. It is a six way. Each road has 4+ lanes going each way. The meeting point of the six has about 8 lanes proceeding each way. This place serves as a taxi stop, a meeting place, a training facility for athletes, a concert venue, and many other things. There are actually stop-lights here that are fairly well followed and this is the only place in town you can turn right on red.
Today as we walked through the square I noticed something odd. A man was sprawled out face down in between the opposing lanes of traffic. I asked my friend if he was okay at which he said, "Of course, he is sleeping." He wasn't a bit shocked and I don't know why I was. It isn't unusual to see people sleeping in strange places. But perhaps the problem was this one looked dead. Made me a bit nervous. I rarely get shocked here anymore; it was nice. I hope the man really was just sleeping though.
Personally I think it is a blast driving. Reminds me of a video game. Not to mention I drive pretty similar in the states anyway. Ask my parents or Jason.
Two intersections are fairly well known. One is named after the gigantic grain bins that sit in one corner of the intersection. It has numerous nicknames: "malfunction junction," "mass chaos," "confusion corner." Contrary to initial thoughts when viewing the thoroughfare it is actually only a four way intersection. But each lane has three to six lanes of traffic. There are no lights or signs and traffic police only make a bigger mess.
The other is kind of town center. It is a six way. Each road has 4+ lanes going each way. The meeting point of the six has about 8 lanes proceeding each way. This place serves as a taxi stop, a meeting place, a training facility for athletes, a concert venue, and many other things. There are actually stop-lights here that are fairly well followed and this is the only place in town you can turn right on red.
Today as we walked through the square I noticed something odd. A man was sprawled out face down in between the opposing lanes of traffic. I asked my friend if he was okay at which he said, "Of course, he is sleeping." He wasn't a bit shocked and I don't know why I was. It isn't unusual to see people sleeping in strange places. But perhaps the problem was this one looked dead. Made me a bit nervous. I rarely get shocked here anymore; it was nice. I hope the man really was just sleeping though.
Taking Over the World...
Today I went to one of those big sales bazaars like they have in the states. You know the kind you pay five dollars to get into so that you can see what is for sale. It is like a flea market without the dirt, and junk.
Much of the stuff was the same I can find on the street here. But some of it was from other countries. They had crafts from Egypt and food from there too. A friend bought a shirt from Pakistan. I bought a couple of those energy saving really bright lights. They have them elsewhere here, but I wasn't elsewhere.
The funniest thing I saw was in a small stall of Christian books. Many of them where in the national language, but a few were in English. They had a couple books from Francine Rivers. They had a couple from Bruce Wilkinson. They even had a couple copies of The Message. However my favorite of their supply I don't even know the name of. I didn't focus as much on the title as I did the sticker in the top right corner.
It had a barcode on it and all the words were in English. As I got closer I saw it costs 6.95 but there was a US dollar sign on it. A tad closer and I saw the original seller...Wal-Mart. I laughed as I left; they had no clue what I thought was so funny. How do you explain Wal-Mart to third world residents?
Much of the stuff was the same I can find on the street here. But some of it was from other countries. They had crafts from Egypt and food from there too. A friend bought a shirt from Pakistan. I bought a couple of those energy saving really bright lights. They have them elsewhere here, but I wasn't elsewhere.
The funniest thing I saw was in a small stall of Christian books. Many of them where in the national language, but a few were in English. They had a couple books from Francine Rivers. They had a couple from Bruce Wilkinson. They even had a couple copies of The Message. However my favorite of their supply I don't even know the name of. I didn't focus as much on the title as I did the sticker in the top right corner.
It had a barcode on it and all the words were in English. As I got closer I saw it costs 6.95 but there was a US dollar sign on it. A tad closer and I saw the original seller...Wal-Mart. I laughed as I left; they had no clue what I thought was so funny. How do you explain Wal-Mart to third world residents?
Monday, September 05, 2005
Trash or Toy...
The creativity of people who have nothing amazes me. My grandfather tells a story of when he was a child. He says that his family was so poor they had to come up with homemade toys. If you know Dub you probably know he tells the story a bit differently but I'm not sure it is appropriate for all readers. But if you can't sleep without knowing ask him about his pants' pockets. It reminds me of an old Chuck Berry song my mom introduced me to.
Today I was walking down the street with a national friend of mine. I noticed a young boy who was clearly a beggar. But at this moment he wasn't begging; he wasn't paying attention to passersby; he was playing.
Beggars are a bit noticeable. They tend to be dressed in brown or green. It is usually faded a shade or 10 shades but it is still the noticeable brown or green. Often their faces are dirty and their haircuts are a bit unordinary. Usually the little boys have a shaved head with a little tuft at the hairline. They tell me that this has two purposes. The shaving is to prevent lice or other things that come from lack of cleanliness.
The tuft is about a continuing superstition. They believe evil spirits attack things that are nice and pretty. Because of this in some places they spit on babies - to make them less appealing. The tuft of hair is so that the angels can rescue them when they get attacked. They believe the angel swoops down and grabs them by their hair to remove them from danger.
So back to today's little boy. He was having a blast. He was sitting on his butt with his legs spread out in front of him. All of his focus was on his toy. It wasn't a toy I would have been satisfied with as a child. I have to admit I was a bit spoiled.
The little boy who captured my attention had his attention on a Coke cap. We drink from glass bottles here. The tops are sometimes thrown in trash cans and sometimes on the street. Apparently this one had made it to the street. And what you and I would consider trash was a treasure to this boy. Over and over again he would toss it about a foot in the air and catch it again. He threw it and caught it and threw it and caught it as long as I could see him.
I was impressed by his ingenuity. I was blessed by his joy in spite of poverty. I was touched by the smile on his face as he played with a piece of metal which to him meant as much as a gold coin would have. What a wonderful world!
Today I was walking down the street with a national friend of mine. I noticed a young boy who was clearly a beggar. But at this moment he wasn't begging; he wasn't paying attention to passersby; he was playing.
Beggars are a bit noticeable. They tend to be dressed in brown or green. It is usually faded a shade or 10 shades but it is still the noticeable brown or green. Often their faces are dirty and their haircuts are a bit unordinary. Usually the little boys have a shaved head with a little tuft at the hairline. They tell me that this has two purposes. The shaving is to prevent lice or other things that come from lack of cleanliness.
The tuft is about a continuing superstition. They believe evil spirits attack things that are nice and pretty. Because of this in some places they spit on babies - to make them less appealing. The tuft of hair is so that the angels can rescue them when they get attacked. They believe the angel swoops down and grabs them by their hair to remove them from danger.
So back to today's little boy. He was having a blast. He was sitting on his butt with his legs spread out in front of him. All of his focus was on his toy. It wasn't a toy I would have been satisfied with as a child. I have to admit I was a bit spoiled.
The little boy who captured my attention had his attention on a Coke cap. We drink from glass bottles here. The tops are sometimes thrown in trash cans and sometimes on the street. Apparently this one had made it to the street. And what you and I would consider trash was a treasure to this boy. Over and over again he would toss it about a foot in the air and catch it again. He threw it and caught it and threw it and caught it as long as I could see him.
I was impressed by his ingenuity. I was blessed by his joy in spite of poverty. I was touched by the smile on his face as he played with a piece of metal which to him meant as much as a gold coin would have. What a wonderful world!
Guard Duty...
I had to do something Thursday. It is one of the hardest things I've done since living in this country. I had to release a guard. The way houses are set up here is that everything is inside its own compound. It makes no difference whether you are in the city or the countryside each house or sometimes a families' grouping of houses is inside its own gate.
My gate is green. Around the top of the fence is razor wire. In the states we would assume someone really rich lives in my house, or else it is a small prison. Each house always has a person standing guard. We have three. They switch off so that one of them is always here.
Very little major crime happens in this country. However there is some theft. In the local logic, if you have something that you don't protect you must not care if someone takes it. At our learning center the phone had no lock on it. One month someone made repeated calls to Austria. We must not have minded if they made calls or we would have locked the dial pad...it is now locked. The same logic applies to a car or my house. If I don't have a guard I must not care if someone breaks in. But I do care so I have guards.
Thursday I had to release one. He had only been here a couple months. He was a great guy, but he couldn't make the cut. For a while I thought he was lazy or a bit dumb. Over time I began to think maybe he couldn't hear. We would knock on the gate and he would never come answer. One day I came out the front door and he wasnt more than fifteen feet away. As I drew within five I said hello; he didn't respond. Finally when I slammed the car door I got his attention.
The problems continued and were compounded by a lie he told the guards and his inability to help our house worker. Eventually we decidedwe would have to let him go. I have limited language so I started the conversation and then had an advisor finish it. I thought the guy was gonna cry; I thought I was gonna cry.
It is tough to live in a place of such poverty. Standing before me was a young guy who wanted a job. He was a good guy, but he couldn't protect the house. I released him from his work and gave him a gift as new years is approaching. I asked him to call me sometime and we would get tea or coffee. I'm not sure I'll ever hear from him. I think I crushed him. I crushed me. I'm still not sure what the right thing to do was.
My gate is green. Around the top of the fence is razor wire. In the states we would assume someone really rich lives in my house, or else it is a small prison. Each house always has a person standing guard. We have three. They switch off so that one of them is always here.
Very little major crime happens in this country. However there is some theft. In the local logic, if you have something that you don't protect you must not care if someone takes it. At our learning center the phone had no lock on it. One month someone made repeated calls to Austria. We must not have minded if they made calls or we would have locked the dial pad...it is now locked. The same logic applies to a car or my house. If I don't have a guard I must not care if someone breaks in. But I do care so I have guards.
Thursday I had to release one. He had only been here a couple months. He was a great guy, but he couldn't make the cut. For a while I thought he was lazy or a bit dumb. Over time I began to think maybe he couldn't hear. We would knock on the gate and he would never come answer. One day I came out the front door and he wasnt more than fifteen feet away. As I drew within five I said hello; he didn't respond. Finally when I slammed the car door I got his attention.
The problems continued and were compounded by a lie he told the guards and his inability to help our house worker. Eventually we decidedwe would have to let him go. I have limited language so I started the conversation and then had an advisor finish it. I thought the guy was gonna cry; I thought I was gonna cry.
It is tough to live in a place of such poverty. Standing before me was a young guy who wanted a job. He was a good guy, but he couldn't protect the house. I released him from his work and gave him a gift as new years is approaching. I asked him to call me sometime and we would get tea or coffee. I'm not sure I'll ever hear from him. I think I crushed him. I crushed me. I'm still not sure what the right thing to do was.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Rooney...
Much of the summer I drove a car. Life is typically much easier here in a personal car. But something is missing. Months ago I wrote about the modes of transport here and shared the pros and cons of driving or riding or walking. I won't bore you with that again. But I do want to share a reality of driving.
I become more likely to miss the beauty and joy of the society when I drive. Even today I was walking through the streets people would call out to me. "Rooney" they would yell. I always know they are speaking to me. It isn't my name and it isn't a new nickname I've developed; well I guess it sort of is.
The people here tend to think I look like this guy. His name is Wayne Rooney and he is a football (soccer) player for Manchester United. Typically one thing can always be known here. If a national likes Manchester he/she doesn't like Arsenal and vice versa. Therefore I often ask who they like and pick the opposite. It is a fun way to play with them.
It used to drive me crazy to hear them yell this name as I walked by. But I've grown to love it. I've learned that the people here have strange ways of saying hello. They yell "you" or "foreigner" or to me "Rooney." The first two are always in their language. It can be frustrating and even seem rude. The truth is they just want your attention. They want to see your face and your smile. Some want to see your pocket book, but most are satisfied with the smile or a handshake.
I swear these are the most beautiful people on the face of the earth. I'm glad to be walking the streets more.
I become more likely to miss the beauty and joy of the society when I drive. Even today I was walking through the streets people would call out to me. "Rooney" they would yell. I always know they are speaking to me. It isn't my name and it isn't a new nickname I've developed; well I guess it sort of is.
The people here tend to think I look like this guy. His name is Wayne Rooney and he is a football (soccer) player for Manchester United. Typically one thing can always be known here. If a national likes Manchester he/she doesn't like Arsenal and vice versa. Therefore I often ask who they like and pick the opposite. It is a fun way to play with them.
It used to drive me crazy to hear them yell this name as I walked by. But I've grown to love it. I've learned that the people here have strange ways of saying hello. They yell "you" or "foreigner" or to me "Rooney." The first two are always in their language. It can be frustrating and even seem rude. The truth is they just want your attention. They want to see your face and your smile. Some want to see your pocket book, but most are satisfied with the smile or a handshake.
I swear these are the most beautiful people on the face of the earth. I'm glad to be walking the streets more.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Material...
I don't consider myself much of a writer. I remember writing papers in school and having my little sister proofread them for me because she was so much better at it. I remember writing a paper in grad school that a friend read and said I wrote like I talked (never figured out if that was good or bad).
In spite of this reality, I am in the midst of trying to write something. For some time in the States there has been a problem in churches. We have functioned as if a decision to follow the master is the finish line. We allow people to come to that point and then we ask them to barefoot the rest of faith. This runs a very dangerous risk of becoming a fire insurance style, stay out of hell, salvation.
It seems to me that the book talks of more of an on going relationship. Walking in faith is a journey with the God. A decision to join the journey should be the starting line, not the finish line. We need to work harder at raising up those who are joining our walk.
With this in mind we are trying to prepare a resource to help raise up healthy believers here. I am taking the lead on compiling/writing this material. Tons of stuff currently exists. However the majority of those things are written for western minds. And while the call is the same for followers all over the world the means of getting there differs depending on culture.
As we try to prepare material several issues arise. Join us in asking for wisdom as we work through these things. Also realize these are beginning thoughts. I am still learning what the culture looks like. I am constantly asking for wisdom as we try and reach these people.
Well this is getting long and I am at the end of my current thoughts on the issue. Please join me in asking for wisdom as we move through this process.
In spite of this reality, I am in the midst of trying to write something. For some time in the States there has been a problem in churches. We have functioned as if a decision to follow the master is the finish line. We allow people to come to that point and then we ask them to barefoot the rest of faith. This runs a very dangerous risk of becoming a fire insurance style, stay out of hell, salvation.
It seems to me that the book talks of more of an on going relationship. Walking in faith is a journey with the God. A decision to join the journey should be the starting line, not the finish line. We need to work harder at raising up those who are joining our walk.
With this in mind we are trying to prepare a resource to help raise up healthy believers here. I am taking the lead on compiling/writing this material. Tons of stuff currently exists. However the majority of those things are written for western minds. And while the call is the same for followers all over the world the means of getting there differs depending on culture.
As we try to prepare material several issues arise. Join us in asking for wisdom as we work through these things. Also realize these are beginning thoughts. I am still learning what the culture looks like. I am constantly asking for wisdom as we try and reach these people.
- Orality v. Literately - The illiteracy rate in this country is as high as 70%. That is a lot of people that can't read or write their own language much less English (which the majority of material is written in). Even if we write something in English and then translate it, we would have to teach many of the people here to read before they could begin growing in faith. Even those that can read learn in an oral manner. They don't learn through reading and writing as well as through hearing and speaking. Therefore teaching methods here need to involve stories and sharing aloud truths. They will then repeat and memorize as they learn. A desire of mine as we write material is that we write it for us the American literate mind. As we reproduce it with others we will do so orally. They will never have the printed work in hand.
- Indigenous v. Imported - For something to be indigenous it means that it is of the culture. Many of the bodies here don't carry that trait. They look more like my culture than theirs. We do believe that we have some thoughts, and goals, and principles that are valuable to the believers here. However we want them leading their own people because they understand the culture more than I ever can. This is another reason to dodge printed material. This way we can give them nuggets and they get to take those and do with them as they have been led, not so much by us as the Spirit.
- Black v. White - This is less of a color issue than a cultural issue. The foreigners have great respect here. Last week I sat in a meeting with the heads of a college that wants to partner with our ERC. This week they called and invited us to come to their first graduation as the special guests. They want to put a robe on us and have us sit up front. We have no partnership yet; they don't even know us; however we are white. The desire is that those being raised in the faith will be raised up by national believers. Several issues come into play here. First, we don't have enough national believing partners to lead those making decisions. Second, is in line with the issue mentioned above. Many of the believers here have been taught a way that goes against culture. Now I won't deny that our faith is countercultural. It goes against the norm; it bucks the system. At the same time, it is culture sensitive. Shepherd stories were told because J. was teaching shepherds. Those challenged to be "fishers of men" weren't the tax collectors, they were fisherman. The goal was to communicate the truth in a way that fit with their current worldview, but at the same time stretched their world to new places. Third, people tend to place great respect in those that walked the journey with them. We want that to be a black face, not a white one. The day will come we will leave. We aren't here forever, we are here to accomplish the task and then let it run wild, fired only by the passion of nationals and the wisdom of the Spirit. We also don't want to see a repeat of the issues in the body at Corinth. It seems Paul was dealing with the believers fighting over who had more worth because of who led them on the way. Paul says who cares, what is important isn't the person but God.
- Lifestyle v. Program - As we read of the master leading his followers we don't see a weekly meeting to digest ideas. We don't see occasional teaching sessions and the rest of the time it is do as you will. He walked beside his followers. He journeyed with them. He laughed with them, cried with them, and grew with them. That is the goal of discipleship. It is the idea of one farther down the path walking with one who just began the journey. A major issue is how to turn printed material to oral material that is about living life together not teaching. The lack of partners adds to this, because relationships currently will have to be manipulated rather than natural.
Well this is getting long and I am at the end of my current thoughts on the issue. Please join me in asking for wisdom as we move through this process.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Computer...
Well it is back in working order. I'm not pleased yet as I still have programs left to add but I am getting there. Gonna try and put a few new posts on in the next few days. Those checking in have dropped in my absence. Thanks for those of you that stick around.
