On loan?

“The art of being poor in spirit is to distinguish between use and ownership. A person who owns something – or regards himself as owner – believes he has the sole right to determine how that thing is used. He may use it himself or authorize another person to use it. But this sense of ownership is a terrible snare, because it prevents a person's soul from marching onward to God. The person who wishes to move toward God must free himself from all sense of ownership. He must regard all things as loans from God, even the things which he himself owns. A loan is to be used for a period, and then paid back. This is precisely how we should regard our houses and fields, clothes and furniture, they are loans which God grants us for our short span on earth, to be repaid at the moment of death. To be poor in spirit does not mean to be destitute, lacking in even the basic comforts and necessities. It means to regard nothing as your own, and everything you have as a temporary loan.” On Living Simple – John Chrysostom

I'm the one who speaks a funny language...

"He offered His body,

He poured out His soul,

Jesus was broken 

That we might be whole

Broken for me, broken for you

The body of Jesus broken for you.

Come to My table and with Me dine,

eat of My bread and drink of My wine." 

- Janet Lunt

Wednesday night at Connect group (the Bible study of my host family's church), John lifted a piece of bread and said, "Let us remember that no matter which country or people we are from that we are indeed brothers and sister in Christ." As we all pinched a piece of bread, I was awed, " Here I stand in a circle with a group of folks from England, Scotland, Kenya and Tanzania ... all of whom are seeking to serve the Lord. Furthermore they are my family... Suddenly I have been surrounded by people that I've just meet and yet understand the strong brotherhood found in Christ." Let me interject here that my host family had a mission group from England visit that week. 

From that experience and many faced here in Tanzania, I am realizing the beauty found in realizing the smallness of ones own 'world'. In America, I feel rather confident. My life is very comfortable and I can be quiet independent. I have my group of friends and connections to people from all over the nation. I have a car and know how to get around.... I know where to find shampoo and what the monetary value of things are... I understand the political, educational  and even religious systems work, at least partly. I basically know where food comes from and the cultural rules for relating to others. I am proud. I am proud of my 'independence' and my 'knowledge' system of the world I live. I don't like to ask others for help.

However with a simple plane flight everything changes... except the pride. Here I find myself realizing that what I defined as "normal" isn't really so... I realize that my "world" is really rather small. In all actuality, I am a baby. I am a baby speaking a funny language and dependent on the generosity and care of others. Although my pride does not like to ask for help, there is a beauty in discovering the "smallness" of ones world. For example, it is fascinating riding around in a dala-dala squished between a mother with her four children; a big, bulky sack of charcoal and a couple guys standing overhead then realizing that in fact that it is myself who looks, speaks and acts funny. All these people, I find so interesting, are going about living rather ordinary lives.

  

Receiving papaya from our new friend

I am privileged to have this time to live and learn from the lives of my brothers and sisters here in Tanzania. These first couple weeks have really slipped away. Each day I learn something new about my surroundings that I didn't know when I woke up that morning. Each day is a surprise... I really don't know what will happen or whom I will meet. For example, I have been given the opportunity to visit the Serengeti. For foreigners coming in a trip to the park can be expensive. Tuesday evening I went to visit my Orthodox friends... they were taking some relatives to the Serengeti and said, "We have an extra seat, would you like to go with us on Thursday?"

                                               Hippos in the Grumeti River

So two days later, I found myself munching on a sandwich overlooking a group of hippos in the Grumeti River. Again today after school, I joined my host family on a visit to the boy's home they are starting. On the hill we took a walk and found ourselves on top of rocks with a panoramic view of Lake Victoria. Not to mention being accompanied by about 10/15 local children. Then leaving my host family to catch a dala-dala to my parents home, I was accompanied by two boys who tried to teach me Kiswahili. Then after an interesting 30ish minute ride home (those rides are always interesting... I was basically proposed to on one just the other day), I was welcomed home with Mama clothed in an African khanga and wearing a wide smile. What a joy it was to be home to a home, I'ld never been too... What a joy it is to experience Africa with those I love the very most... The family is really settling in well... cooking on an African charcoal stove and already have neighbor kids running in and out.... that's a little example of just one day....

                                           Fresh from the tree

                                          Above a wonderful sound to wake up too... and a girl showing off her finding..

My heart is grateful and content. At this point, I think I could live here the rest of my life... I do realize that life here is not all surprises, adventure and roses... there are many thorns, hardship and big questions to be wrestled with... as anywhere.... There is much suffering here, of which I really have no concept of... Despite the song of my heart is "How can I keep from singing your praises? How can I ever say enough? How amazing is your love, O My Lord."

A Challenge to Humility

                                                             (Our neighbors...)

"How much larger life would be if your self could become smaller in it; if you could really look at other men with common curiosity and pleasure; if you could see them walking as they are... You would break out of this tiny and tawdry theater in which your own little plot is always being played and you would find yourself under a freer sky..."

Orthodoxy, G.K. Chesterton

Just another 'page'

“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” ~Augustine of Hippo

I never cease to be amazed whenever arriving to a new place how 'novel' and 'exhilarating' everything seems, yet how similar to photos, stories and descriptions found in books the place really is. This creates an odd sort of familiarity to a land, culture and people that is completely foreign. So it was upon arriving in Tanzania. Its Africa! Yes, what I see, hear and smell is different than home. For example, upon landing I spotted a stork flying. At Dar-Es-Salaam the immigration officials seemed rather relaxed and disorganized. All around the language is the air is Swahili. Everywhere the roads are bumpy and a maize of cars, motorcycles, dola-dolas and people walking. Its Africa! I felt completely at peace and safe, even amongst the unknown before me. Furthermore I am very grateful and honored to be able to explore another 'page' in the book of the world titled - Tanzania.


Back to travels. This was the farthest that I had travel alone. My journey took me through six airport in just two short days. Really quite a miracle. I was able to see the flower bulbs for sale in Amsterdam, the Alps from above, the landscape of Italy, the real massive size of the Ionion Sea and almost feel time fast forward with two sunsets (caused by being at such high altitudes, the curve of the earth and flying east). Then from the flight within the country I sat next to a Tanzanian pilot who told me all about the national parks, wildlife and history of Tanzania, as well as pointing out landmarks along the flight.

 Sometimes its the small things... Amsterdam

Everyone I met along the way, especially the further east I traveled, were helpful and friendly. Especially the angel God sent me in Dar-Es-Salaam. I had arranged for my friend from college's friend's friend's friend to take me to and from a hotel in Dar. (Which was the safest way for me to get around). Except that I accidentally told them the wrong date. As a result when I stepped out of the airport into the warm African night around 10 PM I had nobody I knew to pick me up. I picked up a conversation with an Indian lady who lived in the city. She was friends with a girl I had befriended on the airplane. She with confidence said she would take me to the hotel if nobody came. She called my ride, informed me about the miss-communication about dates and told me they would meet me at my hotel. Then I, feeling very much safe and peaceful, climbed into the bed of a truck with her. Looking back, I don't know if this was the best thing to do. However this lady was an angel and took to the front desk of the hotel. That was the most exciting part of the journey.

Upon arriving into the city I am living, the Bishop graciously picked me up and brought me to the international school I am to be interning at. Again I did not know where I was to live upon arrival. This is when I was introduced to a young English family whom opened their home to myself. John and Dawn have lived here for two years. John is planting an international church and Dawn is a teacher at the school. They have two beautiful sons ages 6 and 3 years. The boys have the sweetest English accents are always making the cutest remarks. For example just at bedtime little Caleb asked, "Why can't we see Jesus?" Joseph trying to answer this complex question said, "Well You've got a heart. That means Jesus is inside of you." Caleb not quite understanding stated, "He's inside my stomach. Can we cut it open and see Him?" (or something along those lines). There is also a young Kenyan family living in the house. They have a two year old son. The three boys are always playing together. I am very grateful to have a family to live with while here.  Furthermore they are very generous and have invited myself to participate in as much of their activities as I want. The good Lord has once again provided.

As for the school... today was just my second day. I think I'll save sharing about the school for another day....Just for a taste though there are monkeys on the school ground who are known for stealing food from the children's lunches...

 

(not my picture)

FARM

Visiting the farm,

pulling up to some barns and stepping out smelling animals,

grass and fresh air reminds me of ‘real’ life.

Those cats hanging around,

shaking a friendly farmer’s hand

and the presence of good, olde, down-to-earth Jamie

sporting rubber boots and an oversized long-sleeved shirt seem “real to me”.

 

 

 Then time somehow stops in its mysterious sort of way.

Here I am without an agenda.

A place just to ‘be’.

Just to ‘be’ outdoors –

to smell the smells, to observe creatures, to hold the babies,

 and simply talk with good folk.

 

 

These are the times I feel most alive.

These are the ‘real’ moments of life.

Why times like this just ‘being’ on the farm feel so real?

No-one really knows?

Perhaps it’s the intensity of using all the sense with each breath.

Perhaps it’s the freedom from society’s binding time.

Perhaps cuz there’s a part in each of us that knows

there’s something to this life that each of us was meant for.

Adventure unfolding... Tanzania!

Never in a million years would I have believed, even six months ago, that I would be going to Tanzania this summer. Never in a million years would I have thought our family would transplant from our comfortable home in the hills of Kentucky to the beauty of red soil, grassy hills of Mwanza, Tanzania. Nope, these thoughts were too unrealistic.

As a tender young girl I dreamt of such opportunities. Through my childhood, I drank and thrived on the stories of people like Amy Carmichael, Gladys Aylward, David Livingston, Mother Teresa, Jim and Elizabeth Elliot and Don Richardson. As I entered into the teen years, my love for the Lord and desire to give my all for Him through loving and laying my life down for the hurting world grew. People in my own life, like Emily Starr, showed me what it meant to love God through loving people. She loved all of us so genuinely, yet she had enough to spread to the neighbor down the road and the old lady at the store or the punk playing ball. Then she brought home pictures, stories and joy from trips to Venezuela. Her example helped me dream big. Then others like Aunt Carla kept listening to my dreams and encouraged them with stories of great men and women of the faith. Going to conferences like the Voice of the Martyrs and meeting people living the gospel, either in their own land or another, were all watering a greater dream.

Year 2009 was marked with the first steps into this dream of 'missions'. Aaron and Emmy invited myself to be their guinea pig for the pilot program of the School of Servanthood with Reaching the Nations International. As a sheltered, naive and nervous 18 year-old girl sporting the homemade dresses of country life and holding a heart desiring to do God's will, I moved to the 'hood. This experience matured my perspective on missions and what it means to live the gospel. It lead me back home to get 'educated'.

Being home meant learning how to love the people that looked and acted the most like myself. It meant realizing that this mission thing was not, going to another place thinking I can love people 'different' and 'pagan', and be called a 'hero' for that. It meant that truly being a Christian meant loving my Mama, Daddy and five annoying siblings. It meant caring for handicap children. It meant befriending youth in the area. It meant working on the farm. It meant learning from the people already in my life. It meant being faithful in the ordinary things. It means that being a Christian is a lifestyle and a daily experience. It is not a far-off dream in a distant land, its a daily reality.

The journey lead me to Berea College where I was supposed to get 'edu-ma-cated'. Here I have been given the privilege of building a unique community with students from all corners of the world, from all different religions and life-experience. In this academic world of studying, reading and attending classes, I learn the most from my friends. I've learned to find a beauty in all people, as they share their stories and their heart-felt believes. Or as we toss jokes back and forth, play a game of soccer or make a broom. It is my brothers and sisters from Kenya, Afghanistan, Appalachia, and Turkmenistan that have taught me what it means to be human and to live well in this world.

There are two thoughts that have challenged and taught me much this past year first, "If we realize, truly in our hearts and not simply as a matter of words, that any human being we meet (no matter what we may dislike about them) is in fact an image of the Almighty, even if unfortunately gravely distorted, then out of love for the King, we will greatly cherish the person for that reason, if for no others (from a fellow blogger)". And secondly from Mother Teresa,"We all have the duty to serve God where we are called to do so. I feel called to serve individuals, to love each human being. My calling is not to judge the institutions. I am not qualified to condemn anyone. I never think in terms of a crowd, but of individual persons. If I thought in term of a crowd I would never begin my work. I believe in the personal touch of one to one. If others are convinced that God wants them to change social structures, that is a matter for them to take up with God." Through these and other God inspired words, I have been challenged to not just talk about these things but live it. (Actually, I really probably shouldn't be writing about this because its definitely making me a hypocrite. However, I share so that you may be encouraged to fight the good fight and strive for the highest mark rather than mediocrity.)

All these thought lead me to the present, Good Friday and forty days before I board a plane to fly, fly, fly across a bit of water and land to learn from and love people I've yet to meet. Last year, my family was talking about moving to Tanzania to work with Tanzanian church leaders that are starting a Bible School for pastors who are unable to attend seminary, but need the training. Daddy had been twice to hold 6 week intensive- theological classes (or something along those lines). I thought they were joking until they told me they were getting passports for Mama, Daddy and  the four youngest children. For more of their story its here on Daddy's blog - http://www.forwardinafrica.com/2013/01/forward-along-kings-highway.html.

In the mean time, I was applying to spend a semester abroad in Thailand for study. However after hearing all about Tanzania and their excitement, I was toying with the idea of joining them. This was an impossibility, being in college and all. Plus, its not free to travel. The first weekend of February, I brought some friends home for a visit. During that visit, Daddy told me that maybe I could volunteer at an International School in which he had some contacts. One of my 'dreams' is to teach at an international school. Perfect! Right? except time and moneys.

This is when I learned about International Internships our school offers. To make a long, amazing story shorter... I learned that the deadlines for internship proposals was within the week. I was able to meet with a very busy lady, get a proposal written, get all the signatures needed, funds taken care of and find faculty sponsors by the deadline. Then I learned, I was approved by Berea College if the International School would have me. This was all before contacting the school in Tanzania.

On the Tanzanian end, we emailed and received word from them shortly that they too would have me come intern, thus finalizing the internship. Now I had/have less than three months to let it sink in that I've been given the opportunity to live within 20 minutes of the home my family will be, in a country half way around the world, working and learning from teachers and students at a school with has children from 54 nations. Mind boggling.

Why do I share these things? Why do I write these stories and thoughts down? I write them so that God may be glorified. He has done these good things. He has given me a heart for Him and people. He has given me these opportunities. I share these things to encourage the body of Christ, not to gloat about the adventurous life I have. My aim is that others may be inspired to trust God and to look beyond the horizons of life circumstances. That you may see, that God does orchestrate our lives, if we allow. There is so much good, peace, joy, fun and adventure that comes with a life devoted to God. Yes, as well as, a boat load of trails, pains, uncertainties and life lessons. God is good, loving and sovereign. I have no idea what life lessons will be learned through living in Tanzania. I have no idea what this experience means in the scope of the life of Anna. However, I do know that God knows, and that's enough.

Daddy's heart

"The mountain beckons me to come
to greet the morning sky alone
what seemed to be the top of the world
I found to be the foot of His throne
And in the silence I have found
that Holiness and Love is God
come on and change me
Holy Spirit change me"

~ Words from a song my Daddy wrote. I am honored to have a Daddy that loves God and seeks truth... and finds it in creation's reflection of God.