You’d think we have dirt floors…until you looked closely and realize it’s just the heavy layers of sand that blew in from the Sahara in the last few minutes. Sweeping is either an endless task, or so ridiculous with this wind that you avoid it altogether. The powerful wind the last few days has been steady and strong, howling at night like a wolf on the snow-covered mountains of Alaska. Somehow the wind seems to fit in with all that’s been happening in our little corner of Africa. This is the season where everything turns brown – no matter what color it started with! We abandon using ball-point pens in this season, because the dust on the paper makes it impossible to write!
Wow. I don’t even know where to begin. It feels like an eternity since I’ve had a quiet moment to sit, think, pray and write. The last 10 days or so have been so full. I have only begun to process it all.
As always with this blog, I try to be honest. When I write of joys, they are real. And when I write of trials, they are also real. You will hear a mixture today.
It’s December 30th, 2011, I think. It’s all been such a blur lately that I haven’t known what day it is. It doesn’t really seem to matter out here anyway. No one really pays attention to “days”. One just rolls into the next, like a paper chain of dolls all holding hands.
Christmas. You celebrated, didn’t you? Was it what you expected?
On December 23rd, we decorated an Acacia tree wanting to pass down some of our traditions to Lili and Yan. Our collection of 10 ornaments is mostly from my childhood, with a few handmade ones and one brought back from Poland by Ben’s mother. We had an impressive mound of gifts to put under the tree, thanks to friends and family who filled a suitcase and a half! We bought a nice piece of meat for Christmas dinner, pulled out the Christmas pudding and all was set. And then…
“Samson” and his family of five surprised us with a visit. It was mid-afternoon when I heard the gate open, looked out and there was Samson, tall and thin, walking through the gate with this tribe behind him. His young and beautiful wife, “Deborah” looked nervous to be entering a town again (this is only the second time she’s been to this town), much less the house of a “toubab” (white person). Her white and blue “wutte” blew in the wind as she got closer, holding the hands of her youngest, a boy named “Joey”. “Joey” is three and was named after my younger brother “Joey” after he and I visited this town 5 years ago. Every time they call his name, it warms my heart. I wish my brother Joey could meet him and see this precious little guy.
The other two children followed – a boy and a girl looking more excited than nervous, and the boy, happy to meet his name sake, my own Ben.
I could tell by their luggage that this was no small visit. Compared to a westerner, it was nothing. But these people travel light. So when two sacks tied up with a large cloth appeared with them, I knew it meant a nice long stay. I think they brought all their clothes and bedding with them.
The hours that followed were filled with lots of talking, tea and well, from my perspective, destruction as the children explored every inch of the house and garden (at least, the parts we let them into!). Our salon (lounge, living room) became their bedroom and the enormous mosquito net we had made last year, finally got used!
In this culture, you never say why you are here, or how long you will stay, so it’s all a mystery until the moment it happens!
Within a few minutes of their arrival, I looked out as one of the children peed on our front steps. A few minutes after that, I heard the repetitive growl of our squeaky crocodile, only to see another child stomping it mercilessly. A few minutes after that, I went outside to find that the whole front of our house had been graphitted with Lili’s playing chalk. At this point, the battle for gratefulness began in my heart. I was happy to see them. Happy to have them share our house. But our values and cultures clash…big time. So where is the balance of insisting on my values, and showing understanding and tolerance of theirs? Could I still be grateful? Could I still see the good, and not dwell on the frustrating?
After everyone was settled and went to bed, I snuck in Lili and Yan’s room, removing most of the presents to be saved for another time. Not only could we not open them in front of our guests, but it didn’t seem fair to give them to our kids and then tell them they couldn’t play with them!
I felt torn and sad as I put the gifts away. It was somehow a symbolic thing of saying goodbye to the kind of Christmas celebration I wanted and we had planned. Putting the gifts back in the suitcase for me was also putting my plans and dreams aside in my heart to embrace something new.
Living overseas has meant giving up many things that most people consider a normal “right”. And so things become even more precious because so much is already taken away or not possible. Being away from our families on Christmas is always hard. It’s one of the times I struggle the most to embrace God’s call on our lives. It is times like this, I struggle to feel the joy of following Jesus more than the cost. It becomes a time for faith, more than feelings. And from faith, come new feelings!
Lili and I took a walk into town to buy warm clothes for our guests as a Christmas gift. It is wintertime here, and we wanted to get them something useful and special. We walked through the busy market hand in hand. Walking with the only blond in town is better than walking with a celebrity! We found good quality clothes in all the right sizes and enjoyed a “popsicle in a bag” together along with a chance to get out of the house a bit.
I checked my e-mail a few hours later and my Mom (who has the gift of encouragement) had sent me a note, “Jesus fed 5000. You can too!”. It was just what I needed to hear! J Mom, you never cease to amaze me!
On Christmas Eve, our Christmas meat was converted into peanut stew for lunch, and meat and potatoes for dinner. We had a constant stream of guests all afternoon, which meant our phone appointment to the Lashes in America was quick and limited. While it was great to talk with two of my sisters, my Dad and Mom there were 13 others we didn’t talk with. I was torn again. Another visitor arrived. But, it was Christmas. Yes, it was Christmas. The day we celebrate Christ’s coming to earth. His humility, his mercy, his presence as God with us. It all seemed so real as I made another pitcher of sweet milk.
Jesus left his home to come to earth. We left ours’ to come here. Jesus came to us – to be with us – God with us, Immanuel. And here we are WITH these people. Not home where we could be, here with them. Jesus humbled himself and became a servant; here I was serving drinks to strangers. Christmas. That’s what it’s all about. My heart continued to battle to embrace it, wishing I could have both – Christmas “my” way, and “God’s”.
I went to sleep exhausted from serving and speaking Pulaar and was up 7 times that night for various things, children, wind, guests, etc…
Christmas day started with the call to prayer as every day does here. But it didn’t matter. It was still Christmas even of most of the world here just was moving on. Soon everyone was up, coffee and bread with jam served, and it was time to give our guests their presents! Lili and I had so much fun seeing their faces as they tried on their new clothes. Perhaps my favorite thing was seeing the boys put on their knit winter hats. They LOVED them!
In the morning we did drawings and stickers with them, which was also fun because they had never done stickers before! I told Lili that for Christmas God gave her children to play with. She really enjoyed having other small ones to run around with, and all of our Pulaar has been improving rapidly while they are with us!
The rest of the day was busy with serving as I blasted Christmas music from the kitchen, much to Ben’s annoyance! :-) It felt like the only familiar thing in spite all the other changes – Christmas music! There was more letting go as I noticed that one of the children had chewed off an ink pen and drawn all over the walls in our salon, making permanent reminders of this time.
For the evening meal, there were 25 people here and it was non-stop serving until midnight or so. In word and action, we tried to model the whole meaning of Christmas and I finally lay my head down on my pillow again, exhausted. I felt such happiness, worship and thankfulness at the celebration of Christ. But also I felt sadness missing family, friends and my own traditions of Christmas. I felt asleep with a wet pillow all my emotions having come to the surface. I will never forget this Christmas. I have learned so much about giving, and about the gift God gave us in the sacrifice of coming to earth and being a servant. But I have also reflected on how much I have been served by Jesus, who loves me infinitely. Amazing.
The following days continued with blessing and challenge, not the least of which was an announcement by the government that there would be no water for 5 days! Having guests, I found this news quite stressful. We managed to secure a barrel of water from our office. That meant we had two for all of us. We enjoyed a broken up skype call with Ben’s family, though seeing them only made us miss them more!
Two days later I was fighting a cold, my body and spirit worn down and tired and Ben struggling as well. Thankfully Lili and Yan are well.
Along with all this, I have been visiting one of our elderly neighbors every day to dress a head wound. It’s badly infected and he’s had real trouble sleeping. I am thankful I can do this for him.
However, yesterday something wonderful happened. During this whole time, I felt God giving me the choice…..hold on to my plans, and I could keep them. Give them up, and He would give me something better – something eternal. John Elliott’s words came to mind, “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose”.
In letting go, God had a better plan. There was new birth yesterday. Deborah came to life.
And somehow, it’s all worth it. The struggle. The pain. The changes. The pee on the floor. The late nights. The endless drinks. Our sore throats. The financial burden of hosting. The sharing of privacy. The stuffed away gifts. And even missing our family Christmas celebrations.
Somehow I feel that we celebrated Christ this year in a way as never before. And that’s what Christmas is all about.
God, soften my heart. Make me more like you. Make me thankful. Take my earthly offerings and do eternal things that make Your name great.
Merry Christmas to you all. We miss you and love you. Whether or not we’ve been in touch, we do love you deeply. We hope you had as good a celebration as us!
….and the water has come back on again!
