He Walks Among Us

     One of my biggest hopes as I transition away from cross-cultural work and into American life and school teaching is that I find a solid devotional, a book of encouragement and truth, with which I can start each day.  Luckily for me, I haven't even had to go out and buy one, as I have found a beautiful compilation tucked away in John's old bedroom.  It is called He Walks Among Us: Encounters with Christ in a Broken World, written by World Vision leaders Richard and Renee Stearns.  This book is just what my heart has been yearning for, given the doubts I have recently had about the importance of missions work.   

This book serves as a reminder of the power of Jesus' name, the good that it can do in the body, mind, and soul, of even the most despairing people in this world.  Each page in this book tells the stories of individuals who have been given grace at their lowest moments, changing them from bitter to grateful, alone to loved, desperate to hopeful, dead to alive.  This book tells of child soldiers, mutilated widows, homeless families, and sick elders, all of whom become transformed, thanks to the power of the gospel in their lives.  Photographer Jon Warren, captures these stories with his beautifully crisp and colorful pictures. 

Here are some samples of his work (sources: World Vision Magazine and Response, Seattle Pacific University)

an orphan in Zambia prays over her meal

sponsored school children in Rwanda

Rwanda during war time

a Rwandan orphan

women working in Rwanda

rehabilitation of child soldiers in nothern Uganda

 

 

 

 

health outreach in Honduras

 

 

a rural hospital in DRC

teenage mothers in Romania

a Bolivian mother with her disabled child

nutrition classes in Guatemala

a kid-friendly space in South Asia

     I have to pace myself, as I am tempted to read through this whole book in just one sitting.  Each page shouts the wonderfully surprising truth that God is at work in the world, as much as the devil tries to persuade us otherwise.  These stories reveal the paradox of living as a child of God.  While many brothers and sisters are poor and struggling on this earth, they show that they are still the rich ones-- "rich in wisdom, community, perseverance, courage, faith, and even joy." (Rich Stearns)  I thank God for these examples.  

sponsored school children in Tanzania

"You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go 

and bear fruit-- fruit that will last.  Then the Father will give you 

whatever you ask in my name." -John 15:16

Explaining an End: The Ugly

THE UGLY

-My own insecurity:  I was reminded on this trip of the devastating intensity of my own self-doubt.  I knew my confidence would be a little shaky going back to Mundri, given that I was denied another term on the mission field.  However, I didn't think it would have had such a paralyzing effect on me.  Again, I let my mind bully myself into submission, as I sat back and tried to stay out of the way of the "real workers and change makers" on the team.  I doubted any idea I had and was fearful of going out into the community.  I'm reasonable enough to know that I only have my own idols to blame for this.  I obsess way too much over appearing competent and successful that it sets me up for failure, wherever I'm working.  This trip back to Mundri was a good reminder of the necessity of relying on my Father's strength and wisdom to carry me through life.

-Idle Youth:  Just like in America, when the youth in Africa have nothing to do, they resort to trouble.  Unfortunately, in South Sudan, almost all of the teens are bored.  Rejecting the agrarian lifestyle of their parents, many teens hope to become tech experts or business people, setting their eyes on Juba.  However, Juba is not a likely option when the money is simply not there.  So the adolescents remain in Mundri.  And they find less than stellar ways to amuse themselves.  Sadly, for our team, we have had to deal with good friends and neighbors lying and stealing from us.  Now that the trust is lost, it will be difficult to regain it any time soon.  I am continuing to pray that these dear ones and their peers will be drawn towards opportunities for fellowship and enjoyment, through the church and through local sports teams.  I am praying that some bold Sudanese women will receive the call to start up a club for girls, teaching them craftmaking and baking.  Above all, I pray that these teens will know they are loved unconditionally, and this love will melt their hearts for the greater good of the country.              

Motorcycle maintenance in town

Explaining an End: The Bad

THE BAD

Of course, there were some bad parts to my goodbye trip in Mundri.  It would be unrealistic not to expect them, so I had prepared myself ahead for some of these hard things.  Of course, it doesn't make it any easier.

- Those Roads:  I can't believe I had forgotten about the roads of South Sudan.  Not only are they unpaved, but they are also completely uneven, flooded with water, and thick with layers mud that are just waiting to swallow your vehicle whole and render it useless for days on end.  I don't know how the goods suppliers do it, traveling over these conditions at 10 miles an hour, only slightly confident that they will even make it to their distribution centers.  In Mundri, lorries blocked the roads for days, while their drivers were forced to camp out underneath them, surviving only the meals from gracious families living near the road.  I, personally, despise having to ride in a vehicle in Mundri.  You get a headache from bouncing all over the place and become impatient from having to slow to a crawl at many points along the way.  I prefer just riding my bike, even if it means a back drenched with sweat and a chance of showing up late to things.

Mundri airstrip

- Politics: It angers me to hear about a majority of good people having to fear and suffer because a small minority is too prideful and power hungry to seek peace, or even a simple compromise.  I am thankful that the state of Western Equatoria has not been hit with violence that has destroyed other Sudanese towns and forced people from their homes.  The people of Mundri have been able to tend to their gardens, which has led to an amazingly diverse harvest this year.  I was shocked to walk through the market and see an abundance of cucumbers, zuchini, and even carrots during this last visit.  I am thankful for God's protection over this peace-loving tribe, amidst the greater chaos in the country as a whole.  However, even though there is peace in Mundri, there is always corruption and dissent, even on the local level.  I found myself, as usual, ignoring any visits by government offices, where I still harbor a distrust of those in power.  Of course, it isn't just politicians who look for self-gain.  Doctors and teachers refuse to work, police officers misuse their power, young people steal, churches manipulate.  South Sudan is a sinful nation, just like the United States.  However, I sometimes think it is easier to see the problems in a rural, underdeveloped nation, where the sin can't be hidden by busy schedules and financial stability.

- Goodbyes:  The obvious downside to this trip was the inevitable-- having to say goodbye.  Everyone asked me when John and I would return.  I responded with the safe answer of "Rabuuna arif bes." (Only God knows.)  John, as usual, was more brave and honest with his response, admitting that we might never return to Africa.  I couldn't bring myself to that point.  I really find it hard to admit that something is completely closed, never again to be revisited.  I cannot imagine never again landing on that red, rocky airstrip in Mundri town, as swarms of children run out from the tall grass to greet the kawajas, and Elinai, the airstrip director, smiles his broad, toothy grin, welcoming us home.  I cannot imagine never again eating the piping hot, stewed meat from the Ethiopian restaurant in town, while the sun sets and the loud buzz of a generator turns on neon bulbs.  I cannot imagine never again biking through the dreadful rainy season mud, as my bike becomes stuck and I almost fall over, but I persevere and show up to teach my English lesson with splatter marks all the way up my skirt and back.  And I cannot imagine (even though it is the reality of things) not being around as Fatna grows up, as she struggles through primary school and works through secondary school, fighting off persuasive boys and making the tough decisions that all adolescents must make.  There are so many people, places, things, feelings, and experiences that I had to say goodbye to.  Although I don't feel ready to leave them for good, God gave me the peace I needed to walk away and admit that only He knows the future.           

Goodbye songs at Okari Church

Explaining an End: The Good

I have too many thoughts about my final days in Mundri.  After failing to get reappointed to go back to South Sudan next year, John and I saw this trip as our final chance to tie up loose ends and say goodbye to our friends in Mundri.  We were given two weeks to say goodbye to the paradoxical aspects of ministry life in Africa-- the work, the daily routine, the culture, and even the physical surroundings (which are an important aspect of life for me).  I had originally thought of journaling each day during my trip, attempting to express the feelings of transition, loss, and future hope.  However, each day was such a rollarcoaster of emotions, it seems best to simply explains things in a basic summary of the good, the bad, and the ugly.

THE GOOD

-Ministering with my husband:  During this trip, I got the unique taste of ministry life as a married woman.  This allowed me the chance to eat out in public with John, support him during town sporting events, and even have discussions with South Sudanese friends about married life.  It encourages me to know that I have a husband who also takes joy in cross-cultural work.  We make a good team, and I am excited for this new season of teamwork in the U.S.

-The thirst for knowledge:  The people of South Sudan crave exposure to the outside world.  There is a curiosity about life that leads people to ask incessant questions that I can't even answer.  As an educator, I am energized by this desire, so I run to people with open arms, full of books.  One morning I visited the secondary school, where teachers are in short supply.  With the pay being so small and the requirements for teaching falling outside most people's experiences, few people pursue teaching on the secondary level.  I taught a brief lesson to all of the young women at the school, reading from an American Girl book and then speaking on Philippians 4.  You could have heard a pin drop in the classroom (if it hadn't been for the rowdy boys in the classroom next door).  These girls listened more intently than any group I have EVER taught before.  You could see the desperation for knowledge seeping out of their young bodies, as they clung to every word I said.  It saddened me to ride away from that place, knowing that these ladies desire to learn while I have the resources and the knowledge to teach.  However, I must take heart that they have the will, and the Lord will bless each young woman in her educational pursuits.

-The Brothers and Sisters:  You can be away for nine months and the people of Mundri, South Sudan will still welcome you back into their community as family.  Of course, they may tease you for your long absence and joke about all of the cultural knowledge you've forgotten, but they will do it all in love.  It is a double-edged sword-- the people of South Sudan are so used to transience and movement from one area to the next, that they aren't all that disturbed by the exit of one person for a season.  They live with the change, adapt, and then welcome that person back if God wills them to return.  That is life for them, and it makes them much stronger than I will ever be.  However, I am trying to be strong like my Moru friends.  Even thought we are physically far away, we remain close in spirit, and I have the power of prayer, that "fellowship of the Holy Spirit," to intercede for my brothers and sisters.  Prayer is a daily reminder of how short the time will be until we all meet again.   

John with Pastor Lexon and his family