2013

Question: What does a person do when it is the end of the year and she is immobile and cannot leave the house?

If you answered "Watch four episodes of Gilmore Girls," then you would be correct. But if you answered "Pray and reflect on the previous year," you would also be correct. Such is my post-knee injury life. But seriously, it's the end of 2013 and this has been a pretty intense year for me.

Here's a quick recap, in case you are at all interested:
I begin the year at Urbana, an missions conference for students that takes place every three years in Saint Louis, Missouri. It was a great experience and I actually made a commitment there to serve in overseas missions. At Urbana, I had been hoping that God would just kind of speak to me and tell me what I should do for the rest of my life. This did not happen, but actually I felt a lot of peace.

The winter of 2013 then happened, and this included tons of work on the big scary thesis, learning to drive a stick, buying my first car (woo hoo!), my first car breaking down, my first repair bill, my first insurance bill, etc....  But really, God blessed me with incredible friends, incredible student leadership and sweet sweet breakfast-and-worship sessions. Yes, there was a lot of stress. But there was also a lot of joy among the stress: playing with brand-new baby Ian. Introducing our prairie roommate to fresh lobster. Walks on the dykes followed by free samples at everyone's favourite grocery store, Pete's.

One of the few photos I have of my beloved car, Gertrude (taken at Three Pools)

And then suddenly, everything happened all at once. My thesis was due. We planned a huge end-of-the-year party for IVCF. I was planning and support-raising for my summer work. And then my grandmother passed away.

My Grammy Main had suffered from Alzheimer's for about six or seven years. It had been a few years since she even recognized me or since we could even have a coherent conversation. So, in a way, her death was a gift. The sooner it came, the fewer years we had of remembering her in this uncharacteristic state. Although we had been expecting Grammy to go for some time, it did not change the fact that it was very sad. I miss her. She was one of the biggest role models in my life.

It seemed that from that point, I never rested (until now, of course). First exams, then getting ready for the Halifax Urban Partnership and for my Wycliffe internship in Mozambique, then, well, the HUP, and smack in the middle of that, graduation.

I have been thinking a lot about the Halifax Urban Partnership (affectionately known as the HUP) and what God was doing through that. I think one of the biggest things I learned from that is to treat every day (every moment!) as an opportunity to listen to God and to serve him and others. I remember one day a few of us were walking back "home" from church. We had to stop by the grocery store to pick up some things for lunch, given a few dollars of "team cash" to use. Outside of the grocery store there was a young man begging. We felt compelled to chat with him and to get him some food. He really appreciated it, and it was a joy for us to be able to help him. But you see, that was not the task in front of us. The initial task was to buy ourselves a couple loaves of bread. Too often, I am so single-mindedly thinking of the thing I have to do that I forget to be open to the things God may have me do. Sometimes, things just seem to get in the way of what I am doing. It is an everyday thing to learn to be open to God leading. Like seriously. I have to relearn it every single day.

I liked this photo that I took during the HUP

I was at home for a day before heading over to Mozambique. I spent a lot of time on airplanes and in airports before finally looking out the plane window and seeing the coconut trees, tin roofs and red dusty streets of Nampula, Mozambique. It took so much prayer and support from all of you to get that far, and I was groggy and wide-eyed as I met the folks with whom I would spend the next three months. Those three months were times of learning humility, as I learned to deal with life in a different culture. I learned about taking risks and saw a beautiful sunset every single night. I had a ton of fun babysitting three of the most wonderful kids in the world. I learned how to slackline. I acted out a folk story about the sun and the North Wind.  I got to know people from Mozambique, the United States, Britain, Germany, and Sweden, to name a few spots. And my Old Testament professor would be proud to hear that I did a presentation on imprecatory Psalms.

 I thought I would share this photo of slacklining in Mozambique. I think it's a good metaphor of my time there. When you are slacklining, the best way to have good balance is to keep low and keep going. And from my limited experience, I am pretty sure that is the key to living and serving in a different context than what you're used to. I need to always remember to stay humble and to never give up.

A photo from the 24-hours of prayer we had at Acadia

After Mozambique, I came back to Canada with a lot more questions than I had when I left, especially about the direction my life should be going. I had hoped to have a little more time to spare this year in Wolfville, but somehow I managed to be just as busy as always. With a job as a server, a class at night-time, weekly potlucks, Bible studies and tutoring sessions, I was stretched thin. But God was very much present. Spontaneous worship and prayer is becoming a part of our little Christian student subculture and I am thrilled. One of the highlights of the past few months has been learning more about different spiritual gifts, including things I have been skeptical of like prophecy and healing. But I know God is much bigger than my skepticism. He will work how he will work.

Another big surprise of the year was winning a trip to Cameroon! I am still pretty much reeling from that.

So, my prayer for 2014 is this: I want to be more available to God. So much of my time and energy go into things that are not worshiping him.

I spent the first few moments of the year reading Habakkuk, of all books. I love love love Habakkuk's prayer in chapter 3. This, too, is my prayer:

O Lord, I have heard of your renown,
    and I stand in awe, O Lord, of your work.
In our own time revive it;   
 in our own time make it known. (verse 1)


Though the fig tree does not blossom,
    and no fruit is on the vines;
though the produce of the olive fails,
    and the fields yield no food;
though the flock is cut off from the fold,
    and there is no herd in the stalls,  
yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
    I will exult in the God of my salvation. 
 God, the Lord, is my strength;
    he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,    
 and makes me tread upon the heights. (verses 17-19)


 

The earth is filled with his glory (December thoughts)

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty;
    the whole earth is full of his glory.”
-Isaiah 6:3

I have a lot of thoughts. Everyone does, I suppose. Here is a collection of them.

Thought one: I need to intentionally create beautiful moments in my life.
The other day as I was at work, I peeked out the window and happened to notice the view. It was an incredible, peaceful crisp scene of the morning light over the Bay and Cape Blomidon. Just seeing the beauty of that panorama made my day a little bit better. It is easy for me to forget the beauty and glory in the world, on days when I am on my third cup of coffee, have sore feet and feel like the time I need to accomplish everything I need to do in the day exceeds the number of hours in the day.

But God has blessed me with some beautiful moments in this life lately, the sort of moments I am realizing I need to make sure I have more often. Like laying in a trailer in the old orchard, watching the stars with my sister. Like running with abandon through the new fresh snow. Like raising my voice to echo praises along with the grand piano and some good friends in a study hall (like a cathedral) in the wee hours of the morning. Sometimes these moments just happen, but often they do not. And I want to make sure they happen, because they help remind me of God's beauty and glory, which the whole earth is full of. 

Just a beautiful moment

Next thought: Worship is all over
You may have noticed, I really like worship music. I listen to it all the time and I love the sweet times that my friends and family spend in musical worship. We do it whenever we can: in my living room at home, with my dad on the guitar and my brother on the piano, or maybe in the woods behind the university, or perhaps just in various friends' rental units.  I love to raise my weak, occasionally off-key voice to join the instruments and the others singing. Someone plays the guitar, usually, and someone the keyboard if there is one, and the percussion, and once in a while there is a violin or something as well. But I do not know how to play any instruments (except for the bagpipes, sort of, but that's another story). And my voice is not really anything to write home about. So I wonder my place in all of it. But then I realized this wonderful truth: God is really big. And he is really good and really creative. And he created music and music is awesome and I love it. But he also created other things. Like language. And I think I can use language to worship him. Oh, you may have a guitar, or a drum with which you worship. Me, I have a pen. Worship to God is not limited to only music. It is so much more expansive than that. 

That being said, let's all just appreciate this song.

Penultimate thought: Rejoicing in hope
I have sung the song "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" every Advent season basically since forever. The chorus goes as follows: "Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel/Shall come to thee, O Israel."
I was singing that and then I noticed something interesting: they are rejoicing before Emmanuel (the Messiah) even comes! It is an expectant rejoicing. 
And I had to ask myself: do I rejoice in expectation? Do I praise God for things he has promised but that have not yet occurred?

Final thought: Thirst

As the deer pants for streams of water,
    so my soul pants for you, my God. 
 My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
    When can I go and meet with God?
-Psalm 42:1-2

Last night I was thirsty and then I drank some water and then I was amazed by the miracle of the satisfaction of thirst. Because when I am thirsty, all I want is water. Yes, I like coffee and wine and pineapple Fanta but nothing satisfies thirst like water does. It is precisely what I need and when I am thirsty, my favourite food is water. And then I was chatting with a friend about how cool it is that Jesus said he gave water that will cause us to never thirst. 

Nothing satisfies our soul-thirst quite like Jesus. There are things that come close (the pineapple Fantas of spirituality?) but they still leave us with thirst. Jesus satisfies our souls the way water satisfies our tongues. Do you think God specifically created things in the world to be analogies for eternity? Maybe everything is an analogy.

So, here is another song.

Freedom

And I heard the sound
of a great engine pounding
in the air, and a voice asking:
"Change or slavery?
Hardship or slavery?"
and voices answering:
"Slavery! Slavery!"
And I was afraid, loving
what I knew would be lost. 
-From "Song in a Year of Catastrophe" by Wendell Berry

A couple of weeks ago was Anti-Slavery Week at Acadia. Students raised money and awareness about modern-day slavery through various events, one of which was the showing of a film called Nefarious. This documentary is an honest, harrowing account of human trafficking all over the world. In one scene of the film, a man tells the story of three young girls who were rescued from prostitution in Cambodia. They were promised a safe home, an education, and a good future. You would choose this instead of a horrific life of being raped every night, wouldn't you? But they had to ask their parents for permission. Even when the parents were promised a microloan and job training so that they could have another source of income besides selling their children, they still refused. In the film, the man who is telling the story has tears on his cheeks as he tells of how he had to drive the children back to the place they were enslaved.

That was an extreme example. But how many times in our life do we choose slavery over freedom? How many times do we choose what is known over what is unknown, even when the unknown has the potential to be awesome?

As I think about what is next in my life, I need to remind myself to be ready to say "yes" to God, even if it is to something that is absolutely unknown. There are so many things that enslave me, things that I will choose even when presented with a better life. I am enslaved by money and by my ideas of what my future should be. I am enslaved in wondering what other people think of me. But Galatians 5:1 says "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery."

When given the choice between slavery and freedom, I pray that I will choose freedom. 

BIG NEWS

Hi friends,
I don't know about you, but I'm feeling 22.
It is my birthday!
Congratulations must go to my mother for giving birth to me. I feel like I should be giving a gift for HER on my birthday, instead of the other way around. I mean, I certainly have a lot to thank her for.
But I am very blessed because I have more than my birthday to celebrate.

A while ago I came across a contest on Facebook to win a missions trip to Cameroon with OneBook. I asked my brother if he wanted to enter the contest, since I know he's always wanted to go to Africa. But he did not want to enter it and so I did. My friends and family ended up being extremely supportive. On the day that the voting of the contest ended, there was a tight race for votes between me and another competitor. The contest ended at one in the morning and I went to bed at  8:30 that night because I work very early. I decided to leave the contest in God's hands. What I did not know is that many of my friends were staying up late and following the contest closely, and asking their friends to vote for me!

To cut to the chase, the winner of the contest was announced today, and it is me.

I will be joining national Bible translators from all over the world in Cameroon in March and will be doing communications: essentially what I am doing on this blog- Through various media, I will spread the news of what God is doing. 

I am constantly astounded at where God takes us. Who would have thought I would be travelling to Africa twice in one year?? And I will not have to pay at all. Wow.

Here is a quote from Jim Palmer's Divine Nobodies, the book I am reading at the moment. It describes my life right now:  "He is what I`m looking for. The risks are worth it. I can't control or predict God, but I trust him enough to allow this journey of knowing him to take me wherever it may lead, even if I don't know where that is until I get there."

Of hobbits and trusting in God

A few weeks ago, my roommates and I hosted a potluck and the theme was "Hobbits." We made rabbit stew, friends brought "lembas bread", mushrooms, and ale, and we listened to the soundtrack of the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings. It was a nerdy and enjoyable evening. Throughout the evening, the following quote from the Fellowship of the Ring came to my mind. It's something Bilbo Baggins said to Frodo.

“It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."

 

The road outside my front door...

And of course it's a poignant quote because Frodo does step onto the road, and he ends up being swept off into the most incredible adventure in literature. The thing is, the Lord of the Rings is about more than just Frodo. It's about a battle between good and evil. And Frodo and the rest of the Fellowship are not particularly heroic. They are simply courageous enough to fulfill their purpose in this battle.

I think following Jesus is kind of like that too. When you start following Jesus, you don't really know where you'll be swept off to. But there's always adventure. And we need to be courageous enough to step onto the road, to trust God to use us in this adventure. 

Lately I have been thinking about trusting God. I was able to catch a bit of the Nova Scotia Inter-Varsity retreat this past weekend and there was some teaching about Genesis. The story of chapters 1-3 of Genesis is heartbreaking. First God creates the world and it's perfect. Unblemished. And he creates two people and they have perfect community with each other and with God. And did I mention they live in a beautiful garden? Except there's this one thing: God sets limits. He says they can eat from any tree in the garden except for one. Later, a serpent comes along and basically says "Did God really say that?" Well, the people eat from the tree, and they die. Here's the thing about this story: the people ate from the tree because they doubted God. They did not trust that he had their best interest at heart. And since then, people have had a tough time trusting God. I certainly do. But God knows me even better than I know myself. He knows what is best for me. But sometimes what I think is best for me conflicts with what God thinks is best, and I am ashamed to say I often go with what I think is best. Like the story in Genesis, it does not end well.

So here I am, trying to be swept off onto this road of following Jesus, and trusting God to take me on this wonderful adventure.

I sing this song as a prayer:"Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders."

And right now, I am getting to learn how to trust God a lot more. Like planning a 24-hour of prayer event on campus. Like entering a contest to go to Cameroon (Vote for me here if you haven't already. Thanks!). Like trying to figure out what to do next year. Oh, it's a dangerous business, going out my door.

Things I haven't always been thankful for

This is Thanksgiving weekend in Canada which generally means a long weekend and a lot of food with the family. And in church we make sure to especially thank God. However, today I was not able to make it to church because I was working. That is one negative aspect of my job. There are also many positive aspects. It turns out most things are like that: there are good and bad sides of anything.
So, here are some things that I am thankful for, because there is so much good in them. Sometimes I am tempted to look only at the negative side of these things and have an ungrateful attitude about them. But actually there is so much good! Without further ado... the list of things I have not always been thankful for.

Being in Nova Scotia: Growing up here, I did not really appreciate it. But after being away from the Maritimes during the past two summers, I return to Nova Scotia thankful to call this place home. I suspect I will have to leave here soon and since being back I have really appreciated it, despite some frustrations from
"reverse culture shock" (like being stunned and overwhelmed in the middle of Superstore). At the moment, it seems like I may not be in Nova Scotia this time next year. I think God has really blessed me with some amazing and quintessentially Nova Scotian experiences that I will be able to remember when I am far away. I never want to live in a place and wish I am somewhere else. Maybe when I was a kid I wished that at times but now I am just thankful. Click on the photo and read the caption to see some of the ways I have gotten to enjoy my beautiful province this fall so far!

Clockwise from top left: apple-picking in Port Williams, hiking at Cape Chignecto, wine-tasting at Luckett Vineyards, picnicking in East Noel and mud-sliding in Wolfville

  
Acadia Christian Fellowship: This one deserves a bullet-point all on its own. One of my favourite things about being back in Wolfville is getting to be a part of the lovely community that is ACF. I have to admit, I have not always been thankful for ACF. I have always loved it and everyone in it but there was a time when the responsibility of leading what seemed to be a failing group became a very heavy burden. But I am thankful that now ACF is not a burden, but a joy. That is just the kind of thing Jesus specializes in :)
Again, click on the photo to see a larger version and see some of the ways ACF has been a joy this year.

Clockwise from top left: Tim tam slam, making care packages, worshipping on the waterfront and a Bible study party

Working as a waitress: A lot of times the first question we ask people is "What do you do?" and so I guess often we define and label each other by our jobs. Well, my job is a waitress. And to be honest, when people ask me what I do I sometimes feel a little embarrassed or ashamed because somewhere inside me I have this idea that I can do better. But the thing is, this is reminding me first of all to not define people by what they do for a living. So I am very thankful for that. Also, being a waitress, one of those "invisible people" jobs (that is, a job where ideally I am to be unnoticed and forgotten, simply someone to make the dining experience more smooth and pleasurable), makes me notice "invisible people" more: the cashier at the grocery store, the barista at JustUs, and so on. This is good.

Being single: For a long time I was not thankful for this. But somewhere along the way I realized I quite like it. It seems like in our society being single is seen as less desirable as being in a relationship. Our society sees romantic love as the fulfillment of all our desires. But I am realizing this is not true because I am happy being single. I think I would be happy being in a relationship, too, but the fact is, having a significant other is not the thing that brings me joy. Jesus is the real joy-giver! And right now I am enjoying the single life in all its freedom and unique adventures.

Thanks for reading that, friends. So often things that seem bad turn out to be actually good. Happy [Canadian] Thanksgiving!

A Thankful Heart

Today is Tuesday, and late on a Tuesday now,which means it is not a Monday. I've meant to update a blog on Mondays but that did not happen this week.
It did not happen because I got a job!
I have a thankful heart that I only was jobless for two weeks. In this small town I have just begun a full-time job within walking distance of my house. What an answer to prayer! I feel so blessed. I am now learning how to serve Jesus with my job which is cool and also hard.

I am seeing other answers to prayer around. Like when I was running out of money I found a large quantity of money in my purse that was in another currency that I forgot to exchange back to Canadian dollars. WOO. There is always enough.

I have a thankful heart when I buy tomatoes at the Farmer's Market from a Mennonite lady. I mean, can we all agree that that is awesome?
Or when one of my housemates bakes.

I think I just really like food.

I have a thankful heart when I think of all the people I have met. Last Wednesday I was able to attend the weekly morning prayer meeting we have on campus. It happens at 7:30 every morning which is quite early for university students. In the past usually around three or four people would be there. Last week there were eleven of us gathered in intercessory prayer for our university. And many of them were new students! I am reminded that God is doing incredible things here. He never stops creating.

And I have a thankful heart when I think about the "Mud Creek" town in which I live

I also have a thankful heart when I think about the things I am learning about identity.After living in Mozambique for a while, I learned that my identity does not come from my culture. And after graduating from university and now working at a job that does not require any economics knowledge, I am learning that my identity does not come from my vocation.

Every person will see a different side of me. The people in Mozambique may see me as a white person; the people I serve at work may see me as a coffee-pouring-machine; the people with whom I play frisbee may see me as some girl with whom they play frisbee. They don't know my story. They don't know I broke my collar bone when I was about five years old when my brother tackled me. They don't know that I like to dance in my living room when I'm home alone. They only see the teensy part of me they see.

But I hope when they see-- when you see-- whichever teensy part of me you see, you see Christ. Because that is the most important thing. Because Jesus Christ sees all sides of me, the quirky, the fun, and the despicable, and He ferociously loves me regardless. My identity is in Him.

Home again

So I am back in Canada!
I am happy to be home and the whole summer feels like a dream. But it really happened, and it really happened to me.
Now I am a bit lost. I don't know what to expect for the future and that is scary, but I am learning to trust God.

The first week home has been pretty life-giving, though. The first day I was home I got to have an impromptu dance party to this song in our living room. I just noticed it has over 90 million views on Youtube so I guess I am a bit out of touch but it was fun to dance with my siblings.

Then on the weekend we made a little trip to the Parrsboro side of the Fundy shore where we got to relax with a game of dominoes at a cottage and also hike some of Cape Chignecto.

Cape Chignecto

What just happened?

“What just happened?” is the question in my mind presently. With only a few days left in Mozambique, I have time to think about what my life has been in the past few months. Risking hyperbole, 2013 so far has been the most intense year of my life. Looking back on it, the good and the bad, I am reminded that God was with me. God is with me. God is with us.

God was with me when my days were spent in the library, completing my honours thesis and studying. I think of the days when I was feeling discouraged with all I had to do and then finding an anonymous “AcadiaU Compliment” for me on facebook, seemingly at just the right time when I needed to be encouraged. God is good.

God was with me as I got my very first car. I think of the day the clutch gave out as we were driving home on an old country road. It happened to be right next to a very hospitable family’s home, and we were able to start doing “Soularium” cards with them.  Later, local Mennonites were able to fix my car for a really good price. God is good.

And I am sure God celebrated with me when I walked across the University Hall stage to get an undergraduate degree, despite the sorrow of losing a classmate so soon before graduation.

God was with me when I was trying to raise the support to go on the Halifax Urban Partnership and on this Wycliffe internship. He provided for these things in marvelous ways, in the perfect timing. I think of the day before I left for Mozambique. “I only need X dollars more,” I mentioned to a visitor to our house. “Oh,” she said. “I just donated X dollars.” God is good.

He was with me and my family when we had to say goodbye to my grandmother this spring. It turns out that just because you expect someone to die, it doesn’t mean you miss them any less when they are gone. God comforted us through His Word and through supportive family and friends. I think of the friend who got Bob Goff, author of one of my favourite books, to leave a voicemail with his condolences. I think of the friends who stepped up to take care of some of my Acadia Christian Fellowship responsibilities when I was not able to do them. God is good.

God was with us at MarkEast when we made time to study His Word. And He was with us in Halifax. I think of an incident that happened on the HUP when one of the team members had a ukulele taken from the church where we stayed. I saw God’s presence in our team in a beautiful way when we befriended the suspected thief, showing God’s grace and forgiveness despite our own conflicted feelings, and when we later chipped in to replace the lost ukulele. God is good.

Hupsters=love

And God is with me in Mozambique. As it happens, He provides more than just basic needs like food and shelter—he has also provided me with good friends here. When I came, I did not think there would be anyone my own age. But it turns out there are two other girls staying in Nampula for around the same amount of time I am. I have been blessed by their companionship. God is good.

The three of us in Nacala (note: these ladies are pretty good sports to allow this photo to be taken, as it was 6am!)

God was with me when I prayed for someone to help me with Portuguese, and also when I prayed to have a Mozambican friend. He answered both of these prayers with the same person. Flora is also around my age, and she helps me in my language learning. The story of how we met her is a funny one. We were on our way to Nacala with a Mozambican coworker, his wife and their friends, when the truck broke down. So we were stranded on the side of the road in an unfamiliar place for a couple of hours. As we were standing by the truck waiting as the men tried to fix the problem, a Land Rover full of missionaries drove by. Surprised to see three white girls, they stopped. It was an American family. In fact, the woman had been trying to get a hold of my two friends—this family had recently moved to Nampula, and their language helper had also happened to move, because she was now attending university here. The reason this American woman was trying to contact my friends is because Flora is a native speaker of Chuwabu, the very language my friends want to learn! So as a result of that chance meeting on the side of the road, we were able to meet with Flora. Now she helps my friends with Chuwabu and me with Portuguese. God is good.

Flora and me

So, soon it is back to Wolfville, where I have no idea what I will be doing. But I do know one thing: God will be with me. As the Chris Tomlin song goes: “I know who goes before me/I know who stands behind/The God of angel armies/Is always by my side.”

“And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age”

-Jesus (Matthew 28:20)

Small town girl in the city

“I don’t want to live in a city,” I have always told people, and it is true. I am a person easily overwhelmed with the constant assaults to the senses that are found in the city. I have an irrational fear of public transportation, I hate the feeling of walking along the sidewalk and feeling pushed along by a crowd, and it stresses me out to hold my purse tightly against me for fear of thieves. Because of my upbringing, it is no surprise that I prefer small towns and rural areas, where drivers actually stop for pedestrians and where the natural world is nearer. I don’t want to live in a city, I said.

This summer I have lived in two cities.

In May I lived in Halifax with a joyful group of university students and leaders. We focused on the invisible of the cities, the marginalized ones, the victims of this unjust world. I think those people are the most interesting and cool. Spending the month in Halifax made me appreciate the city more. One of the things that most bothers me about cities is the feeling of inadequacy I get when I walk through them. I begin comparing myself to others: the fashionably dressed ones, the people talking on their cell phones while hurrying down the street, the people who actually know what bus they want to go on. And I inevitably feel like the clueless one, like the new kid in class with no one to show her the ropes. But hanging out with the folks at the drop-ins and on the street was refreshing. These people are unpretentious and interesting and if they were my friends I think I could change my mind about living in the city. Being in Halifax made me lose my idea that we are either “City mice” or “country mice” and reminded me that we are all just humans in the end.

For the past few months I have lived on the outskirts of Nampula, the capital of the same-named province in Mozambique. The living situation here is a sort of mission compound, and I only go into the city once or twice a week. For the first couple months, every trip into town was really stressful, and I could not go to the market without getting a headache. If I find Halifax—the familiar, small city—overwhelming, imagine how I feel about Nampula! Take my initial antagonism towards cities, multiply that by a language I don’t know and add people shouting “Hakuna” (white person), men catcalling marriage proposals, guards carrying machine guns, people peeing on trees on the sidewalk and crazy motorcycle drivers and this equals a totally overwhelmed Hannah.

Somehow I survived, and now I can go into the city, even on public transportation, without tensing up as if I am about to write a mathematical economics exam. I still do not think I would like to live in a city for my whole life but this one is growing on me. For instance, the other day a friend and I were crossing a busy street that is part of the rotunda. We did not want to cross when it was unsafe so we just stuck close to a couple of stooped, barefoot old women. The women thought we were so funny and had a nice laugh out of it as we finally crossed the street together at a safe time. I love these moments that remind us that despite differences in age, ethnicity, social status and language, we are still human.

There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:28)

Nampula

The rotunda

No road rules

Just had to add a couple of sunset photos

A Day in the Life

The thing about being here is there is no typical day. But I am just going to pretend there is such thing as one and give you a summary of what my life was like today, for example. So, here’s how it goes:

6:28am: My alarm goes off

6:50am: I actually get up (some things are the same in Nova Scotia and Mozambique). I lift the mosquito net away from my bed and get myself ready for the day. I make sure not to brush my teeth with the tap water, and the clothes I wear are such typical missionary attire it’s not even funny: my outfit includes a long skirt and Birkenstocks.

7:30am: Prayer meeting in the office. A different office worker leads the meeting each day (in Portuguese) and we pray in the typical Mozambican style: everyone prays at once, all saying different things.

8am: My American colleagues and I have a meeting with our supervisor, the linguistics consultant for the branch. We discuss what we’ve done and what we will do this week. Right now we are analyzing some texts in Chuwabo (a language spoken in Zambezia province). We are also working on translating and publishing grammatical notes on various Bantu languages. These will be used to help Bible translation and literacy efforts.

10am: After getting some tea or coffee, we go to the office we share.  

"Linguistics task force" hard at work

12pm: Lunch time! In our house, this generally includes rice, meat, and salad. My favourite is the fruit we eat after the meal: fresh bananas, tangerines, and sometimes pineapple. Of course the meal is followed with a digestive cup of tea.

1pm: We take a walk around the SIL centre.

1:30pm: Back to work in the office

3pm: On Tuesdays and Thursdays I have one hour of Portuguese lessons with my tutor, Flora. She is a Mozambican woman around my age. Today, however, we take a break from office work and go to the English school to help move a bunch of books from one building to the library. This involves cleaning the books, putting them in boxes, moving the boxes, unpacking the boxes, and labeling and shelving each book. I feel very much at home doing this task because it reminds me of my first job as a student clerk at the library.

5pm: Finishing the work at the library, I go outside and see a beautiful sunset which I cannot help but photograph. And I thank God that I live in such a beautiful place Then I write a blog post…. As I write it, I hear the prayer call in the nearby mosque. I usually say a quick prayer for the Muslims in the area at this time, that they will come to know Christ. I also conclude, though I am a bit biased, that of all the major world religions, Christians have the best music. The joyful singing in church here, to me, sounds way better than the droning I hear from the mosques.

This is where I live

Every day

Am I making you jealous?

5:30pm: I go back to the house I live in with an English couple. We just moved in! But of course they will stay longer than I will. I eat the meal they call “tea,” which here includes, naturally, tea, and a roll with cheese and tomato on it, or maybe peanut butter and jam.

My Mozambican home

Then the evening is free. Some nights we have Bible study, or are invited over to someone’s house for supper. I have spent many nights watching Downton Abbey at my friend’s house, just a short walk away. Every time I go out after dark I try to make as much noise as I can, often singing to myself, because I want to alert any snakes to my presence. I have yet to see a snake though.

Peace and love, all!

Bible translation needs at a glance

Shalom

Shalom is a Hebrew word we use to mean “peace”, and that can also be used in speech as a salutation. But the meaning of the word encompasses much more than just “peace.” Some other English words we use to describe this concept are completeness, soundness, welfare, health, prosperity, contentment, or friendship. A favourite benediction of mine is from Numbers 6:24-26

The Lord bless you

and keep you;

the Lord make his face shine on you

and be gracious to you;

the Lord turn his face toward you

and give you peace.

Peace. I think of this as a rightness of the world, a contentment that all is well, and for me, an awareness that where I am is where I should be. Though the word shalom is not used, Philippians speaks of “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding.”

This week I felt this peace. It is good.

Let us pray for peace for Mozambique. Not just the absence of war, but rather shalom. Though there is not war, there is still darkness here. The other night, I was trying to get to sleep when I heard a series of gunshots. In the morning, I heard that there had been a violent incident nearby involving the police, and one person had been killed. We must pray for shalom.

Yesterday at church, the woman sitting next to me was holding the most adorable fat baby, with whom I promptly fell in love. This is shalom: fat babies. One does not often see that here. Children living past their fifth birthday: that is shalom.

This past weekend, I was able to see a few examples of shalom here in Mozambique.

Sports day

On Friday we got to help out with sports day at the kindergarten. This class is taught in English by a feisty American woman in her 70s. For their last day of school they had a sports day that included races, an obstacle course, a beanbag toss, long-jumping, and a dribbling contest. The kids were very excited and the parents came to watch. One tiny girl won the long-jumping contest, jumping even longer than the measuring stick would reach, and with the celebration after this, one would have thought she had just won an Olympic gold medal. It was a purely joyful moment. Though there are only 12 students, this kindergarten is attended by kids from all over the world. They get to experience something really great: having friendships that transcend borders.

The winner of "jump the river"

On Sunday I went to a church that is on the edge of town on a hill. One of the pastors took us to the top of the hill and there was a beautiful view of the houses and the plain below. Even though the church is only half-built, they still meet in the corner of it that has a roof. My home church in Truro wants to build a new building, but we are waiting to sell the old one and to raise enough money. May I suggest we do it the Mozambican way instead? Don’t wait until you have enough, just build as much as the church as you can until you run out of money!

Part of the church with a roof

Part of the church without the roof

Also at this church, we sang a song that sounded familiar to me—then I realized, it was the Makuan version “Hakuna Mungu Kama Wewe,” a song I learned at an Inter-Varsity retreat. I love the song and every time we would sing it in Canada I used to think “I need to go to Africa.” So actually hearing it in Africa was a dream come true.

Some views from the top of the hill

Hearing that song made me think of all my friends back in Canada (not that I don’t think of them a lot, because I do), and so it was very fun to Skype with my brother and some friends last night. They were at Malagash and they even showed me the view from the deck (sigh) and took the laptop on the trampoline! Modern technology is the bomb. I can be at camp and in Mozambique at the same time, which is really the ideal situation when you think about it.

Shalom, loved ones. 

The staple carb here is xima, made of corn or manioc. Here I am eating it with matapa, a peanuty sauce with greens

We are prophets of a future not our own

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.

The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,

it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a fraction

of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of

liberation in realizing this.

This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.

It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning,

a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter

and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between

the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.

We are prophets of a future not our own.

-Bishop Ken Untener

At the church in Nacala

The Fiel conference, attended by about 300 Mozambican pastors, was held this past week at the SIL Centre

We helped to serve meals

Fresh rolls are on sale on the side of the road pretty much everywhere. I wish I could take photos of smells and tastes; YUM!

True greatness

Then they came to Capernaum; and when he was in the house he asked them, “What were you arguing about on the way?” But they were silent, for on the way that had been arguing about who was the greatest. He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”

-Mark 9:33

“I once thought the disciples were slow, but not now. I now think that the real challenge of Jesus was not a matter of intelligence but ultimately a challenge to give up an old vision and to accept a new one.”

-John Powell

A few months ago, I was at a retreat for university students on the east coast, where we studied the book of Mark for a week.  It was called MarkEast, which is really pretty intuitive when you think about it. Today, I am not longer a university student, and I am no longer on the east coast. I am in Mozambique but I still the things I learned at MarkEast and the subsequent month in Halifax are sinking in. Studying the book of Mark I wondered over and over again “Why don’t the disciples get it?” Now I am asking myself that question: “Why don’t I get it?” Even after learning about true greatness, I still want greatness for myself. Even as a Christian, I find myself wanting to be the next Mother Teresa known for doing good works or C.S. Lewis known for insightful and intelligent writing. But then I remember. This is not what greatness is to Jesus.

During my time in Halifax and in Mozambique, I have met many truly great people. These people won’t get a Nobel Prize or be on the cover of Time Magazine. They won’t be interviewed by Ellen and when they die Elton John won’t write a song about them.  But the Kingdom of God isn’t like this world. Jesus honours the humble.

People like Mrs. I. To tell the truth, her name escapes me. I can’t even remember how many children she’s had. But that does not change the fact that I am humbled and honoured to have met her. This woman is the mother of one of the Mozambicans who works in the office with us. The other weekend we three meninas accompanied our coworker and his wife to a church conference in his hometown of Nacala. We were graciously hosted by Mr. and Mrs. I. Here is a woman who has lived through Portuguese colonization, a brutal civil war, and a time when Mozambique was considered the poorest country in the world, all the while raising a family and serving in the church. And she treated us, as strangers, with the utmost respect and kindness, feeding us a veritable feast. For some reason she was rather fascinated with the quiet Canadian. She told me she had a grandson who was perfect for me. She liked me even though I was just a stranger enjoying her hospitality. I could not even offer conversation because my Portuguese is extremely weak. But still, the woman treated me like an old friend. I hope I can be that willing to offer folks my respect and love. As we were loading up the truck to leave on Sunday after all the goodbyes and I was about to get in the truck, Mrs. I said something to me. I couldn’t understand her so I looked questioningly at her son, my coworker. In broken English he tried to find the words for what she had said, something that apparently does not directly translate. “She said… you’re like… a sister.”  I smiled at her as we drove away, and I couldn’t help but be in awe. How I wish I could be like Mrs. I! What a faithful mother, servant of Christ, and hard worker. She has doubtlessly lived through more sorrow than I will ever know. And yet she can still see a sister in a silent young stranger. I know that as a white person, Mrs. I could have felt angry and resentful against me. But she chose love. And even though I do not know this woman very well, I suspect that her life has been a long exercise in the habit of choosing love.

My colleague's parents

Great men and women are found everywhere.

Sunset on the way back from Nacala

Beware of baobabs

The beautiful city of Nacala