Running for the flight

June 28, 2011

I remember that each time we had gone to the airport in Madagascar to drop somebody off for a flight I was EXTREMELY relieved and excited that it wasn't US going home but someone else. But alas, the day finally came where it WAS our turn to be dropped off for our flight. We had about 20 people come to the airport to send us off. A nice mix of cultures: Korean, English, Dutch, South African, and Malagasy. I purposefully had not put on make up that morning as I knew I would be wearing it in streaks after rivers of tears poured out my eyes. As I walked up to the airport my dear friend Helena was standing there waiting for me with her daughter and mother. I started to cry instantly! Florentine, Helena's mother, wiped my tears away, gently, with her hand. With a gentle smile she looked at me and said, “Raha mbola manao anio anao de ho capoako.”, which in English is, “If you do that again, I'll give you a spank”. She had a good sense of humor!

We then got in line to check in our 6 bags. We asked the group to pray as we checked in as we were only allowed one suitcase each for the 4 of us. Each bag went through without any problem! The boys and I then just hung out and talked, cried, and prayed while Randy was trying to exchange money. You can only exchange ariary in Madagascar. Our flight was to leave at 3 pm and since this is “Africa”, though NO Malagasy considers themselves African, we figured if we got to the airplane by 2:45 pm that would give us plenty of time as we were told that this flight in particular runs late. It was about 2:35 pm when we saw a woman dressed in Airport attire running towards our group yelling, “The plane is waiting for you! The plane is waiting for you!” I turned around to see who she was yelling at. “It couldn't be us. That would mean that the flight is leaving early and well....that just doesn't happen here.” But sure enough she was headed straight for me! Randy had just stepped out of the banking area and in a flurry of emotions and movement I grabbed the boys and yelled, “It's us they are waiting for!” We started running to the gate (not too hard to miss as there is only ONE gate in the airport). I actually made it through with scissors in my carry on! They led us onto the tarmac and onto the plane, where everyone watched us get on. As I got settled into my seat I looked out the window to see if there were any pigs flying, as NOTHING is EVER EARLY in Madagascar.

Once the plane was up and running another missionary that we knew from Mada came up to talk with me. She said she saw us in line with extra baggage and started praying for a miracle. Apparently she had taken her son to the airport a few weeks ago to head off to college. He had two suitcases and he either had to pay 10 euros per kilo or couldn't bring his bag with him. Obviously that was a lot of money so they left the bag there. Later that week the family went to the main office of the airline and got a special letter from the “boss” stating that, when the rest of the family goes to the US they could bring this 1 extra baggage. When they got to the airport (the same flight we were on) the check in person gave them a hard time, even with the letter. They kept having to get someone higher up to stamp it and read it! What a hassle! And this was WITH a letter! Then we go through the same line with 2 extra suitcases and NO letter and have NO problem getting through! Now THAT, my friends, was a miraclel!

We got to the JoBurg airport without any problems. Our baggage had a sticker on it all the way through to Durban so we didn't have to wait to get our luggage which meant we went right through customs without a problem. We were able to meet a friend, Glen, who was a short termer in Mada the first 3 months we were there, at the airport. He lived in JoBurg. We had a GREAT meal at a Burger joint. Not a fast food one but a REAL burger. It was the best tasting thing I've had in a long time! After dinner we went to check into our next flight. We were asked if we had any baggage to check in. We explained that we didn't because it was tagged to go straight through to Durban. Apparently we misunderstood. We DID have to get our luggage and recheck it through customs! PANIC. Thankfully we had 1 hr. before we started boarding, but was our luggage still there? So we left the kids with Glen's friends (who had joined us for dinner) and Glen, Randy and I went back down to where we came in. At this point we didn't have a clue where our luggage would be. We walked into the luggage claim area, and there they were....all 6 of them piled together waiting patiently for us! In the end, all our luggage and all 4 of us made it to Durban.

I know this blog is getting long....hang in there with me. We were going to rent a car as Pam and Steve's (the friends we are staying with) was too small to fit both families. Randy had found out before we left Mada that his credit card was frozen from being used in South Africa due to a fraud alert. So, when he went to rent a car they wouldn't accept the new credit card number we had, (didn't have the card as there wasn't enough time to mail it from the states...and not safe either) nor would they except a check or cash, or debit card. We wondered how this would work out. Steve ended up picking us up in a huge Land Rover so there was plenty of room for us and the baggage! We ended up being able to use the Land Rover the whole week. The best part? Steve and Pam each drove the two cars so I didn't have to have a heartattack trying to learn to drive on the other side of the road! (I would have had to drive as Randy lost his license when he lost his wallet a few weeks earlier). Thank you Pam and Steve!

tears and smiles

didn't have Randy read through this first so you'll have to deal with the smelling....wait....i mean spelling.....errors!

June 19, 2011

I have to apologize for not blogging in a few weeks. I've been feeling so many emotions that I've chosen, at times, to just turn them off and be emotionally constipated.

Today my baby turned 5 years old! I can't believe it! What will my roll be when we get back to the states? I've been a stay at home mom in the states for 5 years and now I'm going back to the states with my boys in school full time! It's like, in a way, I have a clean chalk board and I'm not sure what my roll of “Mom” will look like in this stage of life.

June 24, 2011

New thought...

I'm the type of person that when I leave a place I end up leaving it completely. The memory of good friends and loved ones turn into a haze. I even temporaraly forget peoples names (ok, so I do that on a regular basis anyway). When I left the states I did feel a little sad, but I knew I'd go back eventually. The difference now is that I don't know if we'll ever come back to Madagascar and therefore see any of these people again who have allowed me to invest in their lives and them invest in mine. I know that, eventually, once back in the states these people, these beautifull, momentary friends of mine, will slowly but surely become a haze, fading memories. Memories that I hold so close to my heart will slowly start to fade from true factual experiences into stories that become distorted over time.

It's life. I know. I remember one of our missionaries saying that being a missionary is a life of “goodbyes”. His father than corrected him and said, “No son, it's a life of “hellos”. These last weeks I am constantly reminding myself that I do not have to dread people being in my life for short chapters at a time. I can look at it as a painful privaledge; a time to grow and mature and invest in each others lives.

My friend, Fiona, was reading a Dr. Suess book to our kids the other night. In the cover of the book it read, “Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened”. ….

I think I'll do both.

The beginning of many “Goodbyes”

May 29, 2011

Today was “Mother's Day” in Madagascar. I'm being totally spoiled here people! Two mother's days in one year! Yeah, I can get used to that. We went to Church and then out to lunch at Le Combava for my favorite dessert.....fondant chocolat. Fondant chocolat, say hello to my hips.

What I didn't realize was that I was going to have to say goodbye to some close vaza (foreigner) friends we have here today. Josh and Jocelyn Plett are leaving this week to go back to Canada for 2 months. Therefore, we won't see them again before we leave Mada. I had not mentally prepared myself for this. So when it hit me as we were walking into church....well.....it hit me hard.  (pic of boys and Judah, Jocelyn's older son on left; pic of Jocelyn and me on right)

I've learned that missing people is a huge gift. When I was sick with Post Partum Psychosis, with Seth, in 2005 I didn't miss him when he was taken away from me for awhile. I'll never forget the first time I missed him after being sick. It was such a wonderful, healthy feeling; to miss someone you loved. And so, now when I leave people, have that feeling of sadness, of a chapter ending in my life for, who knows how long, though it's painful, it's also a reminder to me of a blessing. It's a blessing because to miss someone means that they have made a positive impact on your life. To miss someone means that you have grown together through daily activities, trials, happiness.... It means that you have allowed that person to connect with your spirit. The deepest part of you.

And so, I guess I'm writing this blog more for myself then for you all......reminding myself.....trying to convince myself....that, as my Dad says, “It's better to leave wishing you could stay, then leave wishing you had left an hour ago”. I guess not wanting to leave means that we really have settled down, and in, with Malagasy living, with friendships, Malagasy family, Malagasy culture. No, this year hasn't been without hardship, but it has been full of contentment, full of things that the Lord wanted to grow us in and use us for.

I wouldn't change anything that has happened this year. I have no regrets.....well one......it's not the regret of having to go home to America, it's the regret of having to leave Madagascar. So I'm thankful for these tears of saying “Goodbye” because that means we've accomplished what we came here to do: build relationships, encourage others, grow, and not just survive but thrive while living here in Madagascar. We've all done these things. And most importantly we've all grown in our relationship with the Lord and with one another as a family. Success.

So Son Do You Know That I Love You?

May 30, 2011

Guest Blogger: Randy

On Wednesday, May 18 AMI (Anglican Music Institute) had a big day. On this day four of our students had the opportunity to sing in the best concert hall in Madagascar for the general public. Now the best concert hall in Madagascar is probably about as nice as the concert hall at your local community college. But this place still had a stage, dressing rooms, and comfy movie theater type seats. A group of music lovers in town (some foreigners and some Malagasies) sponsor free lunch time concerts on Wednesday afternoons. They bring the best professional musicians that they can find so people in the center of the capital city can take 45 minutes off of work and listen to some music. One of our students was so nervous about singing for this event that she said she didn't sleep or eat properly for a week.

Accompanying the students on piano were myself and two other missionary teachers. I had it easy as I was only playing for one song. But we practiced many hours for this concert. On the morning of the concert we went into town early and practiced again in the venue, the French Cultural Center. Then we had some time for lunch and then the concert. The doors were set to close at 12:55 but by 12:45 every seat was filled and there was only standing room left. The concert went very well.

Now on Wednesay afternoons myself and the two other accompanists are supposed to be teaching children's piano lessons from 1 until 6 pm. For this concert we had rearranged a few lessons and we had until 2:30 to get back to teach the rest of our students. So, considering I had to be at the concert hall early and had to go back to AMI and teach for several hours I had decided to not wear my suit but to change at the concert hall. It's not like I had to ride the taxi be. Someone drove me to the concert and then back to AMI and then even home at night. I just carried my suit on a hanger.

We didn't quite make it back to AMI by 2:30 but the afternoon continued fine and finally I went home. After dinner and all I was finally going to bed and realized my wallet was not in my pants pocket where it always is. After a quick moment of “my wallet is lost” I remembered that I had decided to put my wallet in my suit pants pocket during the concert so it would not get stolen from the dressing room during the concert. So, I grabbed the hanger with the suit coat and suddenly had a different moment – the one of “my pants are missing?” They were not on the hanger like they should be. And of course my wallet was in those pants. I quick grabbed the flashlight and ran up our road thinking they might have fallen off the hanger as I was coming home in the dark – nothing. I called the two people who had given me a ride in case they fell off in their cars – nothing. I called another teacher who lives at AMI – the pants weren't there either. And, long-story-a-little-shorter, no, they were not at the French cultural center either – at least according to the people we called.

So, over the next few days I worked out cancelling all my credit cards, etc – which turned out not to be as bad as I thought. And as a thank you gift for accompanying them the students from the concert bought me a very nice crocodile skin wallet. But a few days later I suddenly realized I now had no suit to wear at our upcoming graduation concert where I again needed to accompany. And here is where the love is. At first I was able to borrow a pair of dress pants. I could have bought a new suit or even just pants, but I only had one week and that sort of shopping for a tall person is a big hassle here. So instead I called the two tall men I knew here who had a similar size waist and got pants from one of them. But shortly after I borrowed the pants JungAh, the wife of AMI's director, told me she had two suits I could try. Her brother had given them to her for her son, but they did not fit him. When I tried them on they fit almost perfectly. JungAh said I could choose one and keep it! And they were not just any suits, but really nice Italian suits. Thank you generous friends!  So, if you see me in the future in a really nice black suit, just remember my Father loves me....oh, and He loves all His children just as perfectly.

Reaction to prophecies unfullfilled and false teachings (Thank you Harold Camping for giving me a blog topic.)

May 25, 2011

I'm realizing a very painful truth about myself. I often put my trust and hope in things God has said to me/or I think He's said to me, whether it be through scripture, prophecy, or in prayer. “What's the problem with that?” you might ask. I'm human. I WILL misinterpret God. I will misunderstand His meanings. I will misrepresent Him. Why? Because I'm human and am incapable of accurately understanding a perfect God.

I was thinking about what it would feel like to be one of those who truly believed that the rapture was coming Saturday, May 21, 2011. That Saturday that came and went. How is their faith doing now? I was wondering what it was like to be a disciple or a Jew in the times of Jesus when they truly believed He was going to come and conquer in their lifetime. Yes, you could read the prophecies and come to that understanding. But their understanding, NOT the prophecy, was wrong. What happened to their faith? They ended up crucifying the One they thought would save them from the “now”.

And so I'm realizing that I often put my faith and hope into things I think the Lord is telling me. There ARE things that the Lord tells me, most of the time I think what He tells me will happen one way and it doesn't. It happens another way. What then? My faith is shaken. Why? Because God didn't do what I expected? No, because I misunderstood. And therefore, I have come to a conclusion. I need to NOT put my faith and hope in things said, even from the Lord, though His words are perfect, my hearing and understanding is NOT.

So I will once again, realign my heart with God's Spirit As the song says, “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus blood and righteousness”. NOT on interpretations of scripture, NOT in prophecies given over me, NOT in what the pastor says from the pulpit, but in One true and constant …. JESUS.

Men try to interpret these divine words of Yours.

Your word is good but my foundation of faith can't be in their labors.

Only time will tell if prophecies are true.

Words given by humans or words given by You.

Therefore I do not hope on things man has said.

For it can cause confusion and I can be misled.

What do I do if things turn out differently?

Different from what I understood Your word to say?

Then my faith in You is shaken.

The meaning of the words I read mistaken.

Misunderstood prophecies and portions of scripture

I lay them down for something much richer.

The death the pain the agony

Of setting hopes and dreams at your feet.

So people, share your ideas, your understanding of truth.

Just know they are human and not fool proof.

Not that I am ignorant of what the Bible says.

I hear it and read it. Try my best to follow Your ways.

My understanding is not perfect and therefore I'm flawed.

That doesn't stop me from sharing about the God I'm in awe of.

I know Your words are true. Man's interpretation is limited.

I still read Your word, and in my heart hide it.

But my eyes, my hope, my trust is in You.

My understanding can't begin to comprehend Your truth.

And so my faith is not built on theology.

It is built on the blood that was shed for me.

You give promises. Your words are true.

I look not to them, but only to You

So you can use me freely

No longer looking at promises received.

Righteousness, hope, and truth worth living for.

Enduring peace and satisfaction ever more.

For when that day comes, when mysteries are revealed.

When Christ has returned and He's broken every seal (Revelation 6).

There will be no more questions, no more arguments and doubts.

No more “meant well” false prophecies thrown all about.

My hope is therefore, built on nothing less,

Then Jesus blood and His righteousness. 

Religious differences DONT have to cause family rifts

My dear readers, I'd like to introduce you to my guest blogger for today.  He is a complete opposite from me, yet a close friend.  He is my brother, Tim.  Many families grow apart because of different belief systems.  I felt them at a young age when I was scolded by an aunt for sharing Jesus with my cousin.  It put a rift between my immediate family and her for many years.  I am SO thankful to have a brother who loves me and my family more than he loves proving a point.  I too, love him more than I love proving my point.  In the end truth will show itself.  So, with no further ado here is my brother's response to the latest blog entry I wrote about what we experienced together through my children...I love you Tim.

As you might imagine, I was caught off guard when first Cole, and then Seth, asked if I “knew Jesus.” Although we have talked freely about Jesus before, it has mostly been them sharing their favorite activities at bible school or Sunday school, or sitting with them at night as they pray and sing. And, while Seth once asked why I just sat with them but did not pray myself, I simply explained that some people pray and others do not—and I do not.

I think it is wonderful that my nephews are talking with me about Jesus. Many who read this blog will know that I was brought up in the church where Randy now has his ministry and, from the age of 11 until the age of 19 or so, considered myself a “born-again” Christian. Once I went off to college and travelled around the world a bit, it became clear to me that religious faith in general, and evangelical Christianity in particular, was just not a wordview that was consistent with what I was experiencing. So, with great fear and plenty of anger, I “left the faith.”

I used to find people telling me they were “praying for me” offensive. This would happen most often when I would return to the church I in which I grew up—for Megan’s wedding, or for a children’s program involving Seth or Cole. What I heard them saying in that simple phrase was “you are so lost, I am so found, and I hope you return to the path that is true and right.” In other words, I heard condescending judgment.

Over the years, however, as I have become stronger and more clear about who I am as a person and more confident in my own worldview, much of my anger and resentment toward Christianity generally, and the church in which I grew up specifically, has faded. When someone now tells me they are praying for me, I choose to hear that as an expression of love.

For whom do Christians pray? Well, presumably everyone, if the Lord’s prayer is an accurate model. But for whom do they pray in earnest? They pray for the people they love and care about. They pray for the people who are important to them. Prayer, in other words, is often an act of love.

For what do they pray? Well, presumably they pray for God’s will to be done (see Lord’s prayer reference above). But underneath that is often an earnest prayer for an outcome or development that is good for the person who is the object of their prayer. They pray for healing, for guidance, for employment, for wisdom and understanding, for safety, for friendship—for good things. Prayer, in other words, is often driven by hope.

I welcome the prayers and questions of my nephews. That they love me so much, and hope for the best for me and my wife, is a great gift to me. I would love to have many, many years of prayers from them and conversations with them. I also wish for myself the ability to communicate with Seth and Cole my hope and love for them as clearly and courageously as they do for me.

So, Seth and Cole, Uncle Tim has chosen not to have a relationship with Jesus. But, he cherishes his relationship with you both very much, and will talk with you about whatever you want to talk about, anytime!

Failed yet forgiven

May 21, 2011

You see a few weeks back the boys started asking questions like, “Well does Baba know Jesus? What about Uncle Tim?”. Some of the answers were “ Yes they do” and some, “No they don't”. They continued to ask why some people don't believe in Jesus. We just explained that there are people who believe in different things and that we can pray for and share Jesus with those who don't believe in Him, because we love them and want to share truth with them. So, the boys have been praying for specific people on their hearts, that they would know Jesus. We have told them that if you want to be able to have a relationship with God it has to be through Jesus. If you don't know Him, you don't know God.

My sons where talking with their Uncle Tim on the phone today. Cole got on the phone first and the first words out of his mouth were, “So, do you know Jesus yet?” My jaw dropped about 2 feet from my head. I looked at Randy in pure astonishment. Cole continued the conversation with normal every day chit chat. Sharing about school and friends. It was a quick off the cuff question for him.

At this point Seth was sitting on my lap. He received the phone from Cole to talk next. “So, we want you to know Jesus because we don't want you to go to.....” Before he could finish the sentence, and before I knew what I was doing, I put my hand over his mouth. I was thinking in my head, “Where did he hear the concept that life without Jesus is “hell”? He can't say that, that's offensive to people.” Seth just sat there stunned, not sure what to say next because he knew I had just, nonverbally, told him NOT to say another thing about Jesus to this person. Taught him that, there are some things you say and there are some things you DO NOT say. (I talked with Tim after that and he said to me that he  can hear questions like that from Seth and Cole and know that is an expression of love and interest and not be offended or threatened by it.  SO glad about that!)

That very second I taught my son something...... you should be ashamed to talk about some of the things about Jesus. It's true, that's what I taught him by stopping him mid-sentence. I taught him that when you feel it on your heart to talk to someone about Jesus you should just swallow that feeling and not say anything. I taught him that speaking about Him can offend people and we don't want to offend people.

We should feel awkward, embarrassed, insecure, that's what I taught him in that split second about talking about Jesus to someone......Jesus. The whole reason I live and breath. The only One that has eternal meaning to me. I was stunned at my response to my children sharing about Him. I know that the Word of God is going to be offensive. It says so in the Bible. It's never stopped me before when God lays it on my heart to share with someone. Yet, here I was stopping my children, my own children, from sharing their heart with someone they loved.

I just kind of sunk into my chair. I was immediately shocked and convicted at my response. Not guilty mind you. I just knew that I had disappointed …..my God. My Heavenly Father. I just denied His Son. The One who made my salvation possible. My mind went to Peter. How many times have I read the story of Jesus telling Peter that he would deny knowing Him 3 times before the rooster crows. Peter was adamant that this wouldn't happen. I didn't think it would happen to me either. But …. it did. In one quick moment. I look at that story about Peter much differently now. I'm so thankful that Jesus asked Peter 3 times to feed His sheep in order to restore Peter for the three times he had denied Christ. Oh Lord, restore me.

I had to go back to my children, after having gone back to my God, and ask them to forgive me for teaching them to NOT talk about Jesus. I told them, “When you feel in your heart that you should talk about Jesus to someone, you do it. Don't let anyone stop you, not even me.” Tears where rolling down my face. Lord, restore me and PLEASE , please make my children bolder than I am.

Thankfully I serve the God who has forgiven all my failures.

So, I need to pick myself up, dust myself off, and keep moving forward in Christ....mistakes and all. I'm just a woman on a journey trying to live out what I know to be truth. It's NOT easy, but I can't imagine living any other way.