South African English

English is spoken all over South Africa.  But there are a lot of South African English words that are not the same as American English words.  I found this fun South African English dictionary of some of the more commonly used words.


A few that we hear on a regular basis:


So long - In the US, this would mean farewell or goodbye.  Here in South Africa it means "in the mean time."  For example, when seated in a restaurant the waiter will bring a menu and say "Can I bring you something to drink so long?"


Biscuit - This is the name for a cookie.  The word for a typical US biscuit would be "bread roll" or "scone".  But the "o" in scone is a short sound,  scone here rhymes with the word "gone".


Now Now and Just Now  -Both of these mean "not now".  As far as I can tell, "now now" is sooner than "just now".  For example, I might say to my child "Please find your shoes, we are leaving now now."  Now now is another way of saying soon.


"Just now" could mean pretty much anytime in the future.  If someone tells me "I will get that to you just now", it means "I will get that to you at a time in the future that is convenient for me."  Lincoln learned this the hard way when he went to someone's place of work to pick up some paperwork.  The man he went to see told him that he would get the papers to Lincoln just now and then left the office.  Lincoln hung around and waited for quite a while, thought the man had forgotten about him and ended up leaving - without the paperwork.


Robot - We actually don't hear this one that often, but it always makes me giggle a little when we do.  Traffic lights here are called robots.  "Make a right turn at the 3rd robot."  Giggle.


Shame - This is an all purpose word used to show understanding, sympathy or to indicate that you think something or someone is really cute, or perhaps really sad.  "Oh shame, look at that adorable little baby!"  


Or "It was so cold in my house last night that I'm pretty sure I got frostbite" "Oh shame!!!"


Fillet is used instead of the word steak. It took a while to get used to saying "fillet", because here the "t" is pronounced at the end of the word and the word rhymes with skillet.


Crisps - In the US we call them chips.  Chips here are what we call french fries.


Is it? -This is like saying "really?" and is very addictive! I find myself saying this all of the time!  A friend will say "I went to the store yesterday" and I will answer "Is it?"  It kind of drives me a little crazy!


Those are some of the most common words we hear, check out the link above for more!


~Jenny

Eternal Life

I’ve been a Christian for a long time.  I’ve read the bible countless times. What continues to amaze me is the way that the bible is a living, breathing document that continues to speak new words to me throughout the years. I often read the Bible and come across a particular verse that blows me away. 

Just today I was reading and came across John 17:3.  I’m sure I’ve read it before, but today it was with fresh eyes.  I said to myself, “I can’t believe I’ve never noticed this before.”

Jesus is praying for himself, his disciples, and future believers before his arrest and execution.  He knows he’s about to die, and this is what he chooses to pray; pretty significant stuff.  I’m sure he chose his words carefully.

“Now this is eternal life that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.”  John 17:3

“This     is     eternal     life….” 

This is it, a definition to help explain all the other scriptures that talk about eternal life.  This is significant, because it clarifies, it defines, it illuminates.

I don’t know about you, but growing up in Sunday school I was taught eternal life, meant heaven.  Pearly gates.  Streets of gold.  Mansions.  Extra jewels in your crown.  Puppy dogs, kittens, and candy canes. 

Of course I’m simplifying it for dramatic effect.  And yes, I do believe in heaven.  But what is important for me to notice is that in this instance Jesus is defining eternal life as relationship with God the father and God the son. 

Did you catch that?  

Eternal life is not a time frame. 

It doesn’t mean “forever.”

It doesn’t mean infinite streets of gold floating in the clouds with unending time.

Eternal life is a relationship.  It is relationship now, here, beginning in this life, and continuing into the life to come. 

For many years as a Christian, long before I could express it theologically, I had a problem with the idea that we need to get people to say the “sinners prayers” so that they can be saved, avoid hell, and walk on golden streets.

When I meet hurting people, it is not my goal to get them to say a prayer to avoid hell.  My goal is to introduce them to life in relationship with the Father.   What good is a sinner’s prayer, when it’s not followed with relationship?  Nothing.  It’s just empty, vacant words.

Following on the heels of Easter, our focus is on the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross.  But I think that we would be remiss to forget that the purpose of this is to allow for relationship with the Father.  Jesus himself prays in John 17:25,26:

“Righteous Father, though the world does not know you, I know you...and I have made you known to them, and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them, and that I myself may be in them.”

God, help me to show your love to my world.  Amen.

~Lincoln

Do you really believe that God is love?

Photo Source: yamaken

I have to confess that I did not truly believe that until recently.  I said I believed it.  I actually thought that I believed it.  But some recent events have caused me to step back and re-evaluate my theology and my understanding of God and the Bible.

I’m in the process of examining all of my nitty gritty, deep down, never seen the light of day thoughts concerning God; and I’m ashamed to admit that my previous view of God was not very flattering (to him or me.)

So here’s a challenge, for those of you who intentionally follow Christ; and for those of you who don’t:

Try your best to forget your previously held believes about God.  I know it’s actually impossible to forget your history and previous believes, but try.  Try to suspend doctrine and dogma, just for this exercise.  I know that might be a little scary; it was a little unsettling for me.  And then I remembered that it was doctrine that got in the way of the Pharisees being able to see Jesus for who he really was (John 5:39,40)

So, just for now, set aside doctrine, dogma, theology, and everything you’ve ever learned in Sunday school about God.  (Don’t worry; your theology will still be there to pick back up when you are done.)

Then read the bible with fresh eyes.

Pretend that God really loves you.   He doesn’t just love you, he actually likes you.

You. 

Now. 

As you are, imperfections and all.

Pretend like he really does want what’s best for you, in this life, and in the life to come.

Pretend like he’s not angry at you, not waiting to hit you with a stick when you make a mistake.

Pretend like the gospel (the message of Jesus) is actually good news.

Good news for you, me, thieves, liars, priests, prostitutes, politicians, tele-evangelists, everyone.

Just pretend.  Read the bible with fresh eyes.  (The book of John was a good place for me to start.)

I think that if you do this honestly, you’ll find that you see God in a new light.  You’ll see yourself in a new light.  And you’ll see others differently.

It’s life changing to actually believe it.

God is love. (I John 4:8)

~Lincoln

Gehenna

Last week I was in Freedom Park, a local squatter camp.  I was visiting AIDS patients; praying with them, and bringing them food.  I’ve visited hundreds of AIDS patients during my time in South Africa, but each time I’m shocked at the hopelessness that I find there. 

Truly without hope, beaten down, defeated, no end in sight, despair. 

The word most often used by Jesus to describe hell is “Gehenna,” translated literally, “valley of Hinnom.”  In Jesus’ day the valley of Hinnom was an actual place.  It was the city dump where a fire constantly burned and wild animals fought over the refuse, gnashing their teeth.  When Jesus used the word “Hell” people knew what he meant; they didn’t have to imagine it, they could walk to the edge of town to see “hell.”

Imagine that you are a single mom, inflicted with AIDS.  You are so sick, you can’t rise from your bed to care for your children.  All day, all night, you lay in a 4ft by 6 ft shack with no floor, no windows and a low tin roof, baking in the hot African sun.  You have no control over your bodily fluids.  Your children cook their own food in the shack using paraffin, a waxy petroleum based substance that puts off noxious fumes, burning your throat and eyes.

I can’t help but think that if Jesus wanted to describe hell today he wouldn’t use the word “Gehenna” he would use the word “Freedom Park.”  For those of us blessed with the opportunity to reach out to AIDS patients in Freedom Park, we know hell.

We’ve seen it, smelled it, touched it, felt it’s heat breathing down our backs, its stench has burned our throats, and its fumes have burned our eyes.  To me, hell is not only just a place in the future.  It’s a place here, now, with real people suffering.

Why is this important?  I take the Lord’s prayer quite literally when he says, “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”  I’m confident it’s not the Lord’s will for this mother to suffer alone, dying of AIDS.  I’m confident it’s not the Lord’s will for her children to live as orphans.

My mission is to bring Heaven to earth.  Or more accurately, to destroy Hell with the incredible, overwhelming, life changing, life bringing, renewing, sustaining, healing love of God.

I’ve seen hell. 

I’ve seen God’s love. 

Love wins.

~Lincoln

What Story is Your Life Telling?

Photo Source: WagsomeDog

I’m currently reading a book by Donald Miller called “A million miles in a thousand years.”  The premise of the book is essentially that our lives are a story and it’s up to us to write an epic story.  The book has really made me think about our work here in South Africa. 

Donald writes, “Here’s the truth about telling stories with your life.  It’s going to sound like a great idea, and you are going to get excited about it, and then when it comes time to do the work, you’re not going to want to do it.  It’s like that with writing books, and it’s like that with life.  People love to have lived a great story, but few people like the work it takes to make it happen.  But joy costs pain.”

Our coming to South Africa was a great story.  Within a year of our pastors asking us if we’d like to return, our church rallied behind us in support, a ton of money was raised, we bought our plane tickets, sold our home, and moved around the world.  It was a whirlwind… an avalanche… a tornado of activity, vision, dreams, and plans.

It all sounded like such a good idea.  But then we arrived in South Africa and our plans didn’t work out like we had planned.  The vision, and dreams, and plans didn’t happen like we had expected.  Such is life, and so we changed our plans, and moved forward with a new vision. 

But here’s the thing about new plans and new visions, they stretch you, and force you to grow.  I knew I was suitable for the old plan, because I came up with it.  I had designed the plan with my gifts and talents and previous missions experience in mind.  Maybe that’s why God doesn’t want me on that path.  Maybe he wants me on a path that forces me to rely on him.  Seems like I remember reading something about, “in my weakness, He is made strong.”  I don’t like my weaknesses; they make me uncomfortable.

So here I am with a new vision and a new plan, and it turns out that I don’t really have the gifts and talents to pull it off.  Maybe God could better use someone with another skill set.  

I want to live a great story, but it’s a lot of work, there’s resistance, and struggles, and uncertainty.  Donald Miller writes, every person “faces resistance when trying to create something good.  Resistance, a kind of feeling that comes against you when you point toward a distant horizon, is a sure sign that you are supposed to do the thing in the first place.  The harder the resistance, the more important the task must be.”

I could convince myself that I’m not the right person for the job.  I could make excuses because I don’t have the right skills for what needs to be done.  Donald Miller writes, “I used to believe charming people were charming because they were charming, or confident people were confident because they were confident.  But all this is, of course, circular.  The truth is, we are all living out the character of the roles we have played in our stories.”

The hard work is worth it, because in the end, the story is not really about me.  Donald Miller quotes Victor Frankl, a holocaust survivor.   “He said to me, I was a tree in a story about a forest, and that it was arrogant of me to believe any differently.  And he told me the story of the forest is better than the story of the tree.” 

The story is really about God’s love for South Africa’s children.  I simply get the honor of writing the story for my little group of children in the town of Phokeng.

~Lincoln 

An African Wedding or How I Spent My Entire Saturday

We’ve been in Africa long enough to know that some things run on a non-existent time schedule, but we didn’t really know what we were in for the day of the wedding.  We had tried unsuccessfully several times to get directions to the church.  Finally the bride told us she would meet us near the town prison at 9:30 am on the morning of the wedding.  (The starting time of the ceremony printed on the wedding invitations was 9:00 am.)  The bride said she would lead us to the church.

As we were getting ready on the morning of the wedding, we received a phone call from a friend of the bride informing us that the wedding was now delayed until 11:00 am and the friend would meet us near the prison at 10:30 am.  We arrived at the aforementioned meeting place, near this huge pile of trash, which we soon discovered also doubles as a public restroom.

 

At about 10:40 am Lincoln decided he wanted to call and check to make sure we were at the right place.  The friend of the bride answered and said that she would text us the number of the person who would be meeting us.  Lincoln said that he felt like we were on a treasure hunt, I felt like we were trying to get to some top-secret party. 

Lincoln called the number we were given and there was no answer.  He tried for the next 10 minutes to get a hold of the mystery person we were now meeting.  Finally someone answered and after Lincoln explained who he was and what he wanted and where we were, the person said that he would be there in 10-15 minutes.  By this time, the natives (yes, we had all 4 kids with us) were becoming exceedingly restless and our 4 year old, Kendi, alternated between near-starvation and violence directed toward Kyler’s head.

Over 30 minutes later, after 1 wrestling match, several empty threats, and 1 close brush with death due to lack of food, our mystery person showed up.

Well, we assumed it was the mystery person and not someone who was just trying to lead us to an isolated place to rob us.  As he approached us on the side of the road, he slowed slightly, honked his horn and waved at us.  At that point we were so sick of sitting motionless in the car that we took our chances and followed this gesticulating man.

He turned into a neighborhood, drove around aimlessly, and then pulled over to the side of the road.

We had no idea what was going on and were starting to wonder if we had, in fact, followed the wrong person.  After about 5 minutes, he did a U-turn and went back to almost where we had first met him.  He continued down the road for a few minutes, made a turn and we were at the church.  It turns out that the trash pile meeting place was about 3 minutes and 1 right turn away from the church!  Apparently we couldn’t be trusted with this information.

We were so happy to be able to get out of the car that we didn’t stop to wonder why everyone at the church was still sitting in their cars in the parking lot.  Our mystery escort had disappeared and we didn’t see anyone we recognized.  We entered the tent at about 11:30 am (2 and a half hours after the wedding was scheduled to start) and people were arranging chairs and setting up.

There were a few kids and some young women milling around and after about 10 minutes we began to think that we had actually missed the wedding.  Slowly, over the next 30 minutes or so, people began to trickle in.  (People arrived all through the entire ceremony, and with much shifting of the audience, everyone was given a seat.) As the tent became more occupied, it became more stifling hot!

At 12:19 pm  (I know because I kept looking at Lincoln’s watch), people started to hoot their hooters,  (American English translation – honk their horns) which apparently signaled the beginning of the wedding.  A cavalcade of cars arrived and the wedding party emerged.

The musicians started playing, the audience started singing, cheering and dancing and the wedding party danced down the isle.  It kind of reminded me of that Youtube video of the wedding party dancing down the aisle, but much more exciting.  And louder.

Here is some video we took.  If the video below won't play, you can watch it on youtube with this link.

The bride and groom were led to a table at the front of the tent and were seated, the rest of the wedding party joined the audience.  I realized that we were probably going to be there for a very long time if the bride and groom sat through the ceremony!

The bride and groom were very serious throughout the entire ceremony.

  

The ceremony started out with the pastor’s wife announcing that this would be a short service and giving a blessing and prayer and a song.  Then several other people and married couples came to the front and gave blessings or advice and more songs.  Most of the speeches and songs were in Tswana, the local tribal language spoken.

Following a few more songs the pastor and his translator arrived at the podium.  At various times the ceremony was translated from English to Tswana, from Tswana to English, from Tswana to Tswana, from English to English, and from some other language to Tswana.   The pastor took some liberties with his very lively and lengthy retelling of the story of Abraham’s servant searching for a wife for Isaac, in which the pastor highlighted the importance of a wife being a servant to her husband.

By this time Isabel was almost in full meltdown mode.  Lincoln took Isabel, along with his watch, and fled the area.  So, the rest of the time-line is a little fuzzy and possibly altered by the heat stroke I was experiencing.

After the animated and loud story of the servant Rebecca, the pastor launched into a 21-point sermon.  I wish I were joking about that.  Although, I’m certain he skipped point number 19 and I never heard point number 8.  That may have been because of the heat stroke, or maybe he didn’t say any of point 8 in English, or possibly point 8 was also skipped.  So, technically it was a 20 or maybe even 19-point sermon.  Nonetheless, it was long.  Probably about 4 hours long.  And loud. 

In this sermon he gave a list of highly important questions to ask a potential mate.  Here are some of the questions that I can remember.  I can only assume that they were in order of importance.

-Do you want to have kids?  If so, how many?

-Do you enjoy smoking?

-Do you drink or do you not drink?

-If we buy a house where do you want to live? In the city? In a gated golf community?

-Do you know Jesus and go to church?

-Which side of the bed do you sleep on?

-Do you like the air conditioner on or off in the car? (At this my 10 year old, Madison, leaned over and said, “I don’t see why some of these things really matter.”)

-Who will control the finances?  (During this point he announced to the audience, and most of the surrounding community, that he and his wife use the same 4-digit pin code for everything including their bank accounts, their cell phones and all things that need any sort of password.  This is to “Make things easier” and he recommended that the new husband and wife and the audience do the same.  They obviously have no concern of fraud or identity theft!)

-Does the husband expect the wife to quit her job and become a housewife?

-What kind of furniture do you like?  Old style, Italian Style or reclining furniture?

-What do you wear to bed at night?  Do you sleep naked or completely clothed?

-After marriage, where do you want to spend your holidays and vacations?

-Who does what chores around the house?

-How do you want to raise the kids in regards to schooling and religion?

He said some other stuff too, but I can’t remember any of it.  I do remember that it was long.  And loud.

My 2 middle children were in and out of the tent.   My 4 year old knocked over a chair while complaining loudly that she was bored and hungry, rolled around on the dirty floor in her white dress, and tried to lift up my dress with her foot. It was fun. I pretended that she wasn’t my child, which was completely unconvincing since we were the only white people within a 5-mile radius.

On the bridal table was a pitcher of water and 3 glasses with a “waitress” standing nearby.  At various points throughout the sermon, people in the wedding party and audience would signal the “waitress” and she would bring them a glass of water and stand next them while they gulped down the entire thing.  The “waitress” would then take the glass back to the front table and refill it for the next person to gulp down.

The groom also had a manager (I assume that’s what the guy was).  The manager tended to the groom, wiping sweat from his face, getting numerous glasses of water from the waitress and rubbing the groom’s shoulders to loosen him up.  During all of this, the groom looked like a boxer, wearing a suit, sitting in the corner of a ring between rounds.

After the sermon the pastor had the bride and groom rise and come to the center of the tent.   The photographer and videographer stood in the center isle, about 5 feet from the bride and groom, effectively blocking everyone’s view of the proceedings.  From this point on everything was conducted in Tswana.  Not being able to see anything but the backs of 2 large men, not understanding anything that was going on and suffering from hyperthermia (google it), I drifted in and out of consciousness for the next 6 or 8 hours.  In retrospect I should have asked the waitress for a drink from the communal glass.

This is the only unobstructed picture I got of the bride and groom.

Through the fog I suddenly heard loud music, loud cheering and saw everyone in the audience rise to their feet.  The wedding party then danced down the isle and the wedding was over.

I grabbed my children and exited through the side of the tent.

To my great surprise, when I looked at Lincoln’s watch it was only 2:30 pm, only 2 hours had elapsed since the beginning of the wedding.  Because it was also about 1 hour after Isabels’ naptime and we were all hot, tired and cranky, and the wedding party still needed to pose for wedding photos, we decided to forgo the reception that was supposed to start at noon.

It was actually a great experience, it just would have been much more fun without our little ones.  Now we know to arrive at a wedding 3-4 hours after the scheduled staring time and either leave the kids behind or bring several meals, plenty of snacks, a cooler filled with cold drinks, a myriad of activities, and at least 2 changes of clothes per child.  And earplugs.

~Jenny

A New Blog

I have recently started a new blog titled "Real Life".  The new blog has been a place where I've talked more openly and candidly about life on the mission field and life in general.

We will continue to update our ministry blog, LERATO, just as we always have, but I wanted to invite you to stop by and check out the new blog.

The address is JennyinSA.blogspot.com

~Jenny

Expectations

We have recently passed the one year anniversary of arriving in South Africa and I’ve found myself reflecting over the last year. 

I’m afraid that Christians in the U.S. tend to have a romanticized view of the mission field.  Unfortunately I believe that I too had an image of what life as a missionary in South Africa would be like.  Of course, we lived here for nearly a year and a half in 2006-2007, so I felt like I had realistic expectations; but that doesn’t stop the heart and mind from fantasizing about how things should be. 

In my fantasy I would spend my days bringing life to dying people in shacks.  I would bring them food and water that would nourish their bodies, while we talked about the living water the Jesus Christ offers.  They would excitedly embrace the life saving message of Jesus Christ.

I hoped to spend time with children raising themselves in shacks.  When I visited them in their homes they would be excited to talk to me as an American coming to see them.  They would be so thankful to receive the food, school supplies and school uniforms that I would provide for them and their brothers and sisters.  They would come to know the love of Christ through my selfless giving.

Unfortunately, real life is not quite so ideal.  Living on the mission field has taught me that sometimes reaching out to people is simply hard work.  The warm, fuzzy feelings are few and far between.  The bright smiles full of thankfulness and joy are oddly hard to come by.

The desire to give and help is complicated by the needed strategy of helping the poor to learn how to improve their own lives.  Real life on the mission field does not look like a 3-minute missions promotional video.  There is no inspirational music playing behind me when I’m sitting with an impoverished child living in desperation.  When you hand a child a new pair of school shoes and they abruptly ask for a different size or style, the warm fuzzy feelings tend to go out the door.  When you bring a sack of food to a needy mother, knowing that it will likely be stolen by her “boyfriend” that night, the inspiration is elusive. 

What I’m saying here is not a complaint.  It's a reality check.  Real life is real.  Whether you live in America or South Africa.  Hard work is hard, whether it is construction or spending 5 hours shopping for school supplies for orphans.

The point is, God didn’t call us to live a romanticized, feel good life, full of warm fuzzy feelings.  He called us to work.  The harvest is full, but the workers are few. 

The point of giving is not to feel good about yourself.  The point of sacrifice is not to boost your self-esteem. 

The point is obedience.

~Lincoln

1 Year in South Africa

January 23^rd marked our one-year anniversary of moving our family to South Africa.  What an incredible roller coaster year it has been.  We came to South Africa to work with orphaned and vulnerable children.  As usual, God has a way of changing our most well laid plans, and this year was no exception.

When we arrived, we intended to live and work primarily at the Lighthouse Children’s Shelter, just as we had done when we lived here in 2006 and 2007.  We did live and work at the shelter from January to August.  In August it became clear that it was time for us to move on from the shelter.  Since it’s creation, the shelter had been funded and managed mainly by missionaries.  It was always the plan to turn it over to South Africans when the time was right.  Last year in August the shelter was taken over by a local South African church that has the resources and personnel to run the shelter without the help of the missionaries.  So it was time for us to move on.

We moved off of the shelter property and began to spend more time reaching out to orphaned and vulnerable children living in child-run homes in the town of Phokeng.  (These are homes where orphans who have lost all adult family members live and raise themselves and their younger siblings.)  This is a ministry that was begun by our YWAM friends, Derek and Rebecca Van der Merwe.  We have been involved in this ministry at a marginal level since 2006, but last September we took more of a leadership role in what happens there.  We began to develop an after school program where the kids can come each day for a meal and different activities.

In November we moved yet again (for the third time in 2010.)  We had been renting a 3 bedroom flat on a farm/retreat grounds.  It was a nice place to live, but our house there was just too small for our family.  Someone in our church offered a rental house to us that is much bigger than our previous house for just a little more rent than we had been paying. 

Now that we have finally settled down in a home and consistent ministry, we look forward to a productive 2011.  2010 was a great year for us, but it had so much change and transition that we don’t feel like we accomplished as much as we would have liked. 

We are starting a fresh year settled, focused, and full of vision and hope for a great 2011.

No Easy Answer

Recently I had a conversation with a local woman about a young lady who needs help.  The 17 years old young lady has 3 children ages 4, 3, and 1.  She was orphaned as a child and became pregnant at 13.

With only a second grade education she can’t get a job and has been living off of grant money from the South African government.  (This is a common occurrence for orphans or those caring for orphans in South Africa.)  Because she failed to renew her grant this year, she won’t be receiving any grant money for the next 3 months while her application is processed.

In the meantime she needs food to feed her young children.  The problem is that she has a history of squandering the help that has been given to her in the past.  I’m told that if she is given a month's worth of food then it will be gone within the first week because her neighbors will take advantage of her.  I’m also told that the police helped this young lady plant a garden and put her through a course to teach her the basics of gardening.  But the garden withered because she was too busy hanging out with friends and playing cards to care for the garden.

So the dilemma we face is how to help three hurting, hungry children and their mother, without continuing to foster this dependency that she has learned.

Sitting in our comfortable living rooms, it’s easy to see hurting, needy people and think that we can solve their problems with money.  We want to make a donation and feel good knowing that we’ve helped.  Unfortunately, true help is much more complicated and messy. 

There are not always easy answers to helping the hurting.

~Lincoln

I Saw What I Saw

I love to hear stories of lives being changed when people visit Africa.  When Lincoln and I left South Africa in 2007, we thought we would never live here again.  Although we were leaving, we knew that our lives would never been the same, we would never truly "leave" Africa.  Who we were as people, the way we viewed life and the world, our thoughts and emotions had all been deeply impacted.

I recently heard this song written and preformed by Sara Groves.  The song was inspired by a trip she had taken to Rwanda.




~Jenny

Cultural Insight

Yesterday morning I was at my weekly men's Bible study and we started talking about how Africans view Americans.  There are two African pastors in the Bible study and it was very insightful to hear their advice on how to leave a good impression with the people that we are ministering to.  What I learned was both insightful and disturbing.

In African culture a pastor is the most respected person in society, more respected than a wealthy business man or a politician.  Because of this respect, a pastor is expected to dress nicely.  I was told how a pastor is expected to always dress in nice pants and a nice shirt, and if they are visiting a home they should wear a suit coat and tie.  If a pastor does not dress like this then what they say will not be accepted.

Pastor Gordon told of a story where he was shopping at a grocery store and met a member of his congregation.  He was wearing shorts, sandals, and a button up short sleeve shirt.  The man in his congregation was very disappointed and told him that it is OK if he wants to dress like that at home, but when he is in public he should dress more like a pastor.

The part of the discussion that really disturbed me is that a pastor is expected to not do physical labor, and he is to always be exalted and  honored among the members of his congregation.

In African culture, when you go to a funeral, which happens frequently, all the men at the funeral shovel dirt onto the casket in the ground.  If a pastor decides to help shovel he will be strongly discouraged from working.  He will be told, "No, No pastor.  You must not work.  Your are here to pray and read scripture.  Not to work."

A pastor that insists on working will not be respected.  In a church service a pastor must always be seated on the front row, even it is a standing room only meeting.

This goes so strongly against my American views of the Bible.  I am really struggling with my role as a missionary.  On the one hand I feel like I should submit to the cultural norms (like in my clothing) in order to be heard and have influence.  But on the other hand I feel like it is my spiritual responsibility to push their norms and challenge unbiblical beliefs.

By the African standard, Jesus would have been discouraged from washing his disciples' feet.  My personal leadership style is to lead by serving others.  This is obviously a style that is not respected in African culture and I will need to find a balance.

James 2:3-4 says, "If you show special attention to the man wearing fine clothes and say "here's a good seat for you," but say to the poor man, "You stand there" or "Sit on the floor by my feet, "  have you not discriminated among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?  Listen, my dear brothers: Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him?"

As a missionary I walk a fine line of fitting within the culture that I am trying to reach, and at the same time challenging and bringing a correct Biblical view.  This is not always easy.

~Lincoln

Even If He Does Not....

Living in South Africa brings with it a certain level of danger.  I'm not talking about the Indiana Jones, romantic, exciting kind of danger.  I'm talking about the real, "Holy cow, I could die!" kind of danger.

Over the last two weeks we've had 2 cobras in our backyard, a few feet away from us.  

These are Mozamibique Spitting Cobras, the second most dangerous snake in Africa.  They can spit their venom with complete accuracy up to 8 feet.  In both encounters the snakes were raised up in an aggressive posture with their heads flared at us.  We were closer than 8 feet.  One of them struck at Rocco, our boxer, but missed him because of a fence in between them.

Needless to say, this is a little unnerving to us.  For several nights we slept restlessly, dreaming of snakes.

But we have a choice; to live in fear, or to trust God.  In church this last week the pastor mentioned the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego and the fiery furnace.  When threatened with death, their  response was:

"If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O King.  But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up."  (Daniel 3:17,18)

The part of this scripture that stuck out to me was, "even if he does not..."

It is no fun to live in fear.  Fear can cripple and paralyze you from following the will of God.  We know without a doubt that we are in the middle of God's will here in South Africa.  So we have a choice to trust Him, knowing that He will protect us.  But even if He doesn't I know that He will give us the grace to handle whatever comes our way.

~Lincoln

A Happy Heart

Yesterday I met a local Tswana pastor.  I spent some time explaining to him what we do here in South Africa, and he let us know how he appreciates our willingness to come and serve his people.  

When I was leaving he told me, "It makes my heart happy just to look at you.  Did I tell you that?  Even now when I look at you, I want to cry, and I don't even know why.  It just makes my heart happy."


Of course it was an encouragement for me to hear this.  But more than just being an encouragement, I took it as an exhortation to encourage others with my words.   By saying this he reminded me that our words can build others up, or discourage them.


Today, I'm working on encouraging others with my words.

~Lincoln

An Old Geyser

Frequently we get asked about what we actually do in South Africa.

The answer to that question is extremely varied and changes almost daily based on what is going on at the moment.  Often times part of our job revolves around preparing for, and hosting visiting teams.

This week Jeff and Abby (engageafrica.com), who also live and work on the Lighthouse Shelter property, are hosting a team of highschoolers from Wisconsin.  

The team's first night here we found out that the geyser (hot water heater, pictured above) in the dorm was broken.  They had to take cold showers after 3 days of travel, not a very friendly welcome.

So my Saturday was spent replacing the old geyser with a new one.  It wasn't necessarily what I had planned for the day, but that pretty much describes every day here.

We just take life as it comes.  Sometimes it's a broken geyser, sometimes it's a sick baby going to the doctor, sometimes it's receiving donations.  One thing is for sure, it's rarely quiet and boring here.

~Lincoln

One of Those Days

I wrote this post earlier this week and have debated about whether or not I should post it.  I want to be honest here on our blog, but I'm afraid of being "too" real.  I was angry the day I wrote this post, here is the toned down version . . .


Some days I can numb myself slightly and shut out the abuse and neglect inflicted upon children.  This is the only way I can do and see what I do and see on a daily basis without completely losing my mind.

Other days I absorb their abuse and pain into my being and feel it so deeply that it seems my heart is going to shatter.

Today was one of those days.

We received some distressing and sad news regarding a child who spent years here at the shelter and was recently placed in a foster home.  Shortly after that I had to turn away two sick, abandoned siblings because we are at our maximum amount of children and don't have the finances to hire more staff to care for more children.

As the woman who brought the abandoned babies to us was leaving she broke down and started sobbing saying "I don't know what I'm going to do with these babies."  We gave her the help that we could; some formula, baby food, clothes, the phone number to a shelter in another town, and I gave her some money, but that was all I could do.

I have no idea what will happen to these two babies, I will most likely never see them or hear about them ever again.

What makes me very angry is when the neglect comes from "christians".  People who are interested more in appearing like they care and receiving accolades from others for their "charity work" than getting their hands dirty, doing what the Bible commands and actually making a difference in the lives of others.  People who have the ability and resources to help but won't.  People who want their egos stroked and want others to know how sacrificing and selfless they are before they will even step foot near a child in need.

Well, I don't have time for that!

There are children dieing and starving and being beaten while we're busy patting each other on the back and tiptoeing around each other's feelings.

I'm sorry that this post is not upbeat and happy, but to be completely honest, sometimes working here can be very difficult.  Sometimes horrible things happen to children and we can't do anything at all to stop it or do anything to help.   Sometimes our hands are tied and there is absolutely nothing we can do.  Some days I want to pack my family up and get on the next plane back to the US.

Some days I feel completely defeated and useless.

Today was one of those days.

~Jenny

Happy 4th of July!!

I love the 4th of July, it's my favorite holiday!  I love summer, I love that it stays light and warm well into the evening, I love being able to be outside in the sun all day long, I love getting together with my incredible and wacky family and wonderful friends for BBQs, I love fireworks, I love the US.  I have only fond memories of the 4th of July.

It is hard to not be in the USA for such a patriotic holiday.  There is no excitement here today, there will be no fireworks.  While it does get warm outside during the day in the winter, it is now only about 55 degrees in my house as I sit here writing this.  It is just not the same!

One thing that I am so thankful for here is amazing friends!  Today we got together with friends for a BBQ (Lincoln says that today is the one day that we won't call it a braai!)  Living here would be so much more difficult if we didn't have the support of our friends.  Quite a few are missionaries from the US, so they know exactly how we feel and what we go through.  Some are South Africans, and it's great to have friends who know the country and how things work here.  They have been an extraordinary help as we have been getting settled again.

So, while I miss being in the US for the 4th and I miss friends and family, I am so grateful for what we do have here.

Here are some pictures from the day. Click on them to enlarge.

Our friend Amy's mom sent Amy some patriotic decorations.

There were little flags stuck in above the entry to the lapa.  They had been rolled up and didn't want to stay unrolled.  So we had American flag roll ups decorating the area!

 American flag napkins, YAY!

 

 Amy's patriotically decorated cake.  It was delicious!

 The guys around the grill.

 Our friends

 We couldn't find fireworks, so Lincoln built a bonfire.

 Kyler and his friend Malachi by the fire.

 Lincoln adding fuel to the fire.

The kids played with these sticks for very long time, I have no idea what they were doing in this picture!

After a few minutes, the guys decided they weren't satisfied with the bonfire and decided to burn the entire field.  This is actually very common here, people burn off their weeds instead of mowing them.

 

Lincoln was very safety conscious, his dad would be proud!  (Well, at this point his dad would have been proud.)

Madison

Kyler

 Kendi

Amy and Isabel

The field fire was growing, but not fast enough.

 So, Lincoln got some gasoline . . .

. . . and that helped!

While the giant fire in the field was raging, a group crowded around this tiny fire (this was the bonfire after everyone abandoned it for the larger fire) to keep warm.  We thought it was funny that they were by this little fire instead of the roaring one!

The kids had a blast with the fire.

We were joking that for years all of our kids are going to say "Do you remember that 4th of July where our parent's lit a field on fire and then let us play in it all night?  That was the best 4th of July ever!"

We probably won't be winning any parenting awards anytime soon, but the kids had a great time!

While the older kids played near the fire, Kendi and her friend Kyla played princesses, here they are on the top of their "castle".

I hope you have a very happy 4th of July (even if you don't live in the US and it's just a regular day for you.)

~Jenny