Morogoro, Tanzania

Baba yetu uliye mbinguni,

jina lako litukuzwe.
Ufalmo wako uje.
Mapenzi yako yatimizwe
hapa duniani kama huko mbinguni
utupe leo riziki yetu. Utusamehe makosa yetu kama sisi tunavyowasamehe waliotukosea. Usitutie majaribuni, lakini utuokoe na yule mwavu. Kwa kuwa ufalme ni wako na nguvu na utukufu hata milele. Amin.

‘Our Father who is in heaven,
Hallowed be Your name.
‘Your kingdom come.
Your will be done,
On earth as it is in heaven.
‘Give us this day our daily bread. ‘And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. ‘And do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.’

We say this every morning before class during a short devotional time. This is the Lord's Prayer in Swahili and in English. About a month ago I asked you to pray that I would have friends here at the language school. I remember worrying so much about going off to Tanzania alone. A country I had never been before going to a school I'd never seen to be in class with people I'd never met for four months. What if I didn't make any friends? Will I be completely and terribly alone? "Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen." ~ Ephesians 3:20-21

God has answered your prayers abundantly. The community here is incredible. It is so diverse, loving, and encouraging. We have Catholic priests (Joby, Jackson, Prijo, and Shaju the Indian Fathers, Gideon from Ghana, and Michael from Indonesia) and sisters (Prerna from Northern India who I call 'Sista P!' and Cecilia from Nigeria), Lutherans from Iowa (Liz, Lu, and Kristen) and Finland (Leena & Erne), a family from Arkansas with Pioneer Bible Translators (Ben, Jennifer, Charis, Levi, Luke), and Presbyterian Koreans planting a church in a very small town in Western Tanzania (Qyn Hwan [Paul], Kim Sol Jeong [Jean], and David their son). Today actually was the first day I was able to find more information about the Koreans through conversing in Swahili since they do not know much English. It was exciting to get to know them a little after a month of just smiling. I'm also getting to know some of the teaching assistants, especially two Massai guys named Lemsanya & Kadeghe.

Our Massai guides and Swahili teachers up in the clouds: Kadeghe & Lemsanya

This is the other Ben from Arkansas.

So why did I worry? Why do you worry about things? Utupe leo riziki yetu - Give us today our daily sustenance, daily bread. Do not give us tomorrow's bread today, please don't do that! It will spoil. Just today. On Sunday I was joining Erne in an old sauna that some Finnish missionary built here at the school 20 years ago. Apparently saunas are a really big deal in Finland and they find it even necessary in a hot climate like Tanzania. Anyway, there I was sweating until my fingers were pruny with Erne, the Finnish Lutheran, and we were talking about how we shouldn't plan or worry about tomorrow because today's trouble is enough on its own. Then I suddenly thought, "If that were something I believed, wouldn't the most worry-free time of the day be the evening?" The day is over and there is nothing more to worry about since tomorrow has not arrived. Lord, give us the grace to live this way. I know I need that because my mind so easily moves toward the future.

Swahili has been great. I feel I've improved a lot and can carry on a very simple conversation as well as read kids books with the help of a dictionary. For some reason I really enjoy languages and even grammar...oops did I say that? Over the last week I read a story called, "Pilipili Hoho", which is about a boy who grows green bell pepper for a competition at school. One of the bell peppers, or pilipili hoho, grows to be the size of a watermelon and for some reason has legs. It's my first official book to be completed in Swahili and a delightful story. I got 80 new words from it that I'm now working on memorizing. My favorite verb is 'kutekenya' which means 'to tickle.'

Blessings to you. Thank you for praying and for allowing me the privilege of learning Swahili in such a beautiful place and with such beautiful people.

The mountain side is filled with villages and farms at a steep slope.

Prayer:

1. Pray for continued diligence in my studies of Swahili.
   
2. Pray for the seminars, conferences, and BTCP graduation that is happening in Kenya this month. I will be traveling next week for the graduation on the 13th as long as I have my passport. I gave it to the language school office when I arrived for visa purposes and haven't seen it yet. When I told the head teacher about that today, he seemed surprised. So pray I get my passport back and if I do, pray for safe travels.
3. Pray for the student Bible study Ben and I started - for the gospel to be evident.
   

A Kick in the Pants from D.A. Carson

"There are preachers who so loudly declare their love of preaching that it is unclear whether it is their own performance and their love of power that has captured them or their desire to minister to the men and women who listen to them. A church organist may buck every suggestion that a young, new musician be permitted to serve in this way, and pretty soon the reason becomes clear: the organist's self-identity is so bound up with the public performance of music that any thought of serving people has been suppressed, to the point that the thought of being replaced is intolerable.

As someone who has taught seminary students for more than fifteen years, I worry about the rising number of seminarians who, when asked where and how they think they might best serve, respond with something like this: "Well, I think I would like to teach somewhere. Every time I have taught, people have told me I have done a pretty good job. I get a tremendous sense of fulfillment out of teaching the Bible. I think I could be satisfied teaching Scripture."

How pathetic. I know pagans who find satisfaction and fulfillment by teaching nuclear physics. In any Christian view of life, self-fulfillment must never be permitted to become the controlling issue. The issue is service, the service of real people. The question is, How can I be most useful?, not How can I feel most useful? The goal is, How can I best glorify God by serving his people?, not, How can I feel most comfortable and appreciated while engaging in some acceptable form of Christian ministry? The assumption is, How shall the Christian service to which God calls me be enhanced by my daily death, by my principled commitment to take up my cross daily and die?, not, How shall the form of service I am considering enhance my career? This is not to deny that Christians may derive joy from work honestly offered to God, whether that work is vocational ministry or research into the properties of quarks. But it is one thing to find joy in the work to which we have been called, and another to make joy the goal of life, the fundamental criterion that controls our choices. It is one thing to weigh a Christian leader's evaluation of our gifts, and another so to focus on our perception of our gifts that self-worship has crept in through the back door. It is one thing to think of people as a live audience that will appreciate our displays of homiletical prowess, and another that passionately shapes each sermon to convey the truth to God's people for their good...

In short, Paul not only wants to be with [the Thessalonians], he wants to be with them for their good. And that is a demonstration of elementary Christianity. Christ Jesus came to us, choosing to be with us - and this for our good. He chose the path of self-denial, dying in excruciating shame and degradation so that others might live. He calls us to serve the same way, not by lording it over others but by open-eyed death to self-interest, for the good of others. This stance is not a mask to be donned as a disguise at religious conventions, but the hallmark of Christian living. Paul understood the point and lived it out. His prayers for believers are nothing more than an extension of the same love that he bore them."

A lot of life

Somtimes I feel like I'm completely surrounded by living things here. I woke up a couple of times in the night last night to hear the stray cat and kittens that live in my ceiling playing noisily and a weird sound that I could only assume was a monkey mating call of some kind...maybe a bush baby? Not sure. Then there's the neighbor's dog Dusty who sometimes gets into fights with the other neighbor's dog, Blacky. Or the cats that belong to the owner of Blacky. One of them always finds its way inside my house and would spend hours if I'd let it rubbing its sides back and forth along my legs.

Geckos or small lizards scurrying along the wall that supposedly eat some of the bugs in the house. And there is the unfortunate lizard that occasionally finds itself on the inner side of the hinges just before the door slams...smush. Some of the lizards outside are quite beautiful with green bodies and black heads with white spots, or blue-green bodies and a beautiful orange head.


Then there are the insects. The occasional roach that I try to ignore and hope goes away. The small spider that I always see when I lock the handle on my outer metal gate. The long legged spiders in the corners trying to trap ants. The trains of ants marching toward the destination of anything sweet. Medium size ants, big ants, and tiny sugar ants that find there way into anything unsealed. Black ants on my porch that seem to confuse my finger-nail clippings for food crumbs because they pick them up and take them home. I love to watch one line of ants moving along in one direction with one ant that is moving in the wrong direction. They have a head-on collision every two seconds, yet they seem to just stop short of bashing their heads together as if they were purposefully doing it to give one another a quick greeting before they continue their busy search for the sweetness.

During the rainy season, the mosquitos come out in full force and I invent new ways of killing them. Doom, the death knell of all insects in an aerosol spray can, is great for a large gathering of them near their dark refuge of my black bookcase. The classic move: a round of applause. The wrestlers' hand slam that knocks them out of their sense on to the ground with just enough time to squash them with my foot. And then the experimental 'grasping at the wind' where I hope that they will end up in my clenched fist.

Every morning I get to hear the sound of many, many birds. When I first arrived I remember thinking that they are kind of loud! But now I've become used to it. My favorite one makes a low-pitched sound a little higher than when you blow across an empty glass bottle. The sound comes out once, twice, and then many times in a row like when you drop a basketball on the court and let it bounce until it stops.

Then there are the monkeys around the area. Gray territorial ones, endangered black collobus monkeys with white tufts of hair extending from near their armpits, small, light colored, turquoise balled ones, and large, stocky, confident baboons sometimes with their young offspring clinging to their mother's stomach underneath looking like what we all imagine a demon to look like - big head, small body, large ears, beady eyes, and sharp fangs.


As long as we are outside, there are the cows grazing with their herdsmen and crossing the roads. The goats are all over, some tied others running loose, some males chasing the females for a quick sexual encounter, and one in particular that I saw itching it's chin on the edge of the road looking suicidal, as if it wanted me to run over its head.

Even though the mosquitos terrorize my skin, the ants ruin my food, and the monkey steals my spaghetti noodles from my house and a few pieces of bread from my grocery bag in the back of the car, that I was worried that the cat in my ceiling was a rat and relieved that the cat was a cat, and it seems that the goats are sometimes trying to get hit by my car, reflecting on these things make me grateful for being surrounded by so much life.

Tides of the Heart

I am transitioning out of Kenya for the next 4 months.

What? Did you say you are leaving Kenya? That’s right. I’m not exactly getting on a plane though. Bus, to be more precise. In early February I’m bussing it to Morogoro, Tanzania where I will spend the next four months in classes learning to understand and speak Swahili. I’ve been looking forward to this time where I can completely focus on this one thing rather than juggling lots of other studies and ministry. I’m excited about what the Lord has for me in Tanzania but at the same time life here continues to lead me in a perpetual state of transition. I’ve spent a little over four months here in Kenya, learning, adjusting, breaking down, building up - being reminded of God’s goodness. Now I’m going to go to another country to do the same I suppose. Ni bahati yangu (It’s my luck) that I am staying in E. Africa. It’s not exactly the huge jump in cultures that it was from America to Kenya.

High Tide, Low Tide:
This month has been hard when it comes to culture. They say people tend to get hit with culture shock again at 3 months and 6 months. I guess mine came a little late. I was able to go to Dubai to spend Christmas with some really great friends. I had a blast with my friends and really enjoyed seeing Oman and the Emirates. When I came home though I got hit with it. Empty apartment - no Dustin. No friends that I’ve been close with for the last 5 years like the ones I just visited. Ughh. Loneliness. After a week of battling through that, I felt much better. I had a great week after that. Then….Ughh, loneliness, unmotivated, bleh. Is this depression? Man, it feels like I’m depressed! A week later. Huh, I feel better now.


A man alone in culture shock is like the tides of the sea. One minute he’s strong in his own strength, self-confident, out conquering the land, sand castles, and the tourists who want to remain dry. The next minute he’s weak, receded, and rather static.
This is how I’ve felt this last month. Up. Down. High tide. Low tide. Tossed helplessly by the moon’s gravitational pull of self reliance, culture shock, and loneliness. Unless…

James 1:5-8
If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.

Ask God. Ask God for wisdom. Ask God for wisdom in faith, no doubting. Ask God for wisdom, wisdom that would allow you to see all the wonderful and beautiful things of Him that obliterates all the things you feel you lack and are in desperate need of. To be grateful, rejoicing in His goodness, daily mercy, and provision. Instead of setting your mind and heart on your circumstances, divert both mind and heart to God’s deeds, works, and wonders and ask yourself, “The God who did these things, can he be trusted? Can I trust this mighty God with my own circumstances, my own heart, my own life?” In light of his works, all creation cries out a resounding and confident “YES!”

Psalm 77:11-15
I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your wonders of old.
I will ponder all your work,
and meditate on your mighty deeds.
Your way, O God, is holy.
What god is great like our God?
You are the God who works wonders;
you have made known your might among the peoples.
You with your arm redeemed your people,
the children of Jacob and Joseph. Selah

This has helped me in many ways. Focusing on what I believe I need and lack gets my heart into a lot of trouble. Focusing on God and His goodness and glory does not fulfill what is lacking but instead causes it to recede like the tide of the ocean. And instead of being static, unmotivated, still, and depressed, I am at peace with God in the low tide.

Safari Story

Here's a great story about the safari Dustin & I just went on. We arrived at the Tsavo East Park at around 11am. The plan was to drive around looking for animals to see (Elephants, Gazelle, Impala, Zebra, etc.) until about 1pm when we'd arrive at the lodge where we would have lunch. We saw a few animals, it rained a little, and as I was standing up with my hands up in the back of the safari van with the raised rooftop getting wet from the cool raindrops and the cool breeze lacking the humidity of the coast, I realized how draining the Mombasa humidity can be and how refreshing this was.

We came to the road for our lodge, but there was a river running through it so we went the long way. Our driver was in a hurry as we were late for lunch so he sped on through the bumpy road. We were going much too fast to see anything so I continued reading my book. The nice young German couple were standing up in the front, their hair and faces becoming redder and redder with the African dust kicked up by other vans in front of us. Suddenly I hear a scream and see a small yellow thing flash in front of me and I feel a little splatter on my face. I looked to my right to see a beautiful, yet headless, yellow bird on top of my small, black N. Texas dufflebag. A small pool of blood gathering next to its missing head.

"Ahhh!" I said.

I picked up the bird's body and hung it over the side of the van. I was going to drop it, but then decided it would be best to document, thus the pictures. One of us finally said what everyone was thinking, "Where's the head?" The young German woman looked down to her feet and screamed, "Ahhh!" We all laughed a little more, took a few pictures and had a good story.