31 October 2014

Home for Christmas

and..... deep breath.

and as I breathe that deep breath, an amazing sense of peace washes over me. A peace that says we're doing the right thing, at the right time.

We have made the decision to leave Zambia. There were a myriad of factors leading to this decision, and it certainly did not come easily, but the decision has been made and we hope to be home by Christmas.

Home is such a strange word, isn't it? Since we started dating 10 years ago (and really before that), our focus has been on the next step to get to Africa. Four years ago, we arrived. Literally. Figuratively. Zambia became home. We bought our first refrigerator and washing machine. We adopted one, then two dogs. We established a routine of cooking from scratch and navigating the markets and learning to communicate at all stops along the way. We arrived in Zambia with rose-colored glasses and an uncrushable spirit.

But to be completely honest, our spirits have been crushed. Through hurtful situations. Through spiritual valleys. Through circumstances far outside our control.

We've tried to stick it out. We've redirected our ministry more than once. We've focused on the things we love (the Zambian people, the pace of life, the climate, tropical fruit, etc.). We've prayed. We've cried. We've prayed some more.

And God has shown us it's time to go. We won't say we're done with Africa. We certainly aren't done with missions. But for now, we will no longer call Zambia home.

We will no longer call Zambia home.

Those are hard words to swallow, but go down so smoothly.

We know home is where God calls us to be at that time. He goes before us and is with us.

So as we once again sell most of our belongings and prepare to say a thousand sad good byes, we look forward to our next home. Details are slowly working themselves out. It looks like Charlotte, North Carolina will be home for the foreseeable future (though we promise our friends and family in Illinois and Missouri to spend the holidays with you).

We will still be missionaries, but for the time being, our role will be to equip and mobilize other missionaries in some way or another from our home office. As we know more, we will share more.

It's all so bittersweet. But we have peace. Peace we've not had in many months, maybe years.

Thank you for praying with us through this transition. Thank you for loving us despite our crushed spirits.

We'll be home for Christmas.

"It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed."- Deut. 31:8


03 October 2014

Relating to Jonah

We are fast approaching the six-month “anniversary” of our return to life and ministry in Zambia. Many of you have been keeping up with our Tiffany's facebook posts, prayer letters, and certain blog posts since our return, so it should therefore come as no surprise to you that these months have been marked by a great deal of frustration, stress, and questions. If you were to ask me my thoughts on it all, I’d probably give you a pained expression and a mumbled response along the lines of, “We haven’t done anything” or “We’re basically starting over.”

When things were particularly difficult back in June, I told Tiffany that I felt a lot like Jonah. She asked me why, and I didn’t have a good answer. But it’s still the way I felt. This same conversation came back about two weeks ago after a major training event we had planned for church leaders was cancelled due to scheduling conflicts with our primary instructor. Again, I said I felt like Jonah.

If you’re familiar with the story of Jonah, you might think that he is an odd character to identify with – not exactly a great role model for you or your children. But, in light of all that we’ve experienced, I feel that I can relate with him and everything he did and experienced in the short book bearing his name.

Let me give you some examples…

1) Hastily Fleeing

When we arrived in Zambia in 2010 for our first term as missionaries, we were excited. We knew beyond any doubt that this was where God was calling us. It was difficult at times, but we got through all those times with confidence because THIS was where we were supposed to be. THIS was what God made us for.

Fast forward to our return in April of this year. Gone are those feelings of excitement. We I felt as though we were returning out of obligation to our supporters and to the mission, but I was not fully convinced that returning was what God wanted us to do. Maybe we were supposed to remain in the US and take on a new ministry role there. I had so many questions that lingered in my mind. But we returned. And I felt as though I was running away from something.

Or wanting to run away. Wanting to flee from God’s call.

Much like Jonah was called to go and bring a message of salvation to Nineveh but ended up running away – from his home, from this call, and even from God (Jonah 1) – I felt overwhelmingly like I was either running away from God’s call, or I wanted to run but something was keeping me from doing so. And the questions continued.

Did God have something different – better – for us to do somewhere else, but we returned to Zambia because it was familiar?

When we realized that Sports Friends here had all but fallen apart in our absence and we needed to basically start over, was my frustration and reluctance to move ahead my way of running from the huge task of restarting the ministry?

Whether God was calling us back to Zambia, or indeed calling us to the US, it didn’t really matter. I was running from both. I began shutting down, avoiding all things ministry related. It all seemed to be too much, and I didn’t want to deal with it. So, I fled.

And then the storm hit. Everything around felt like it was flying in my face. Nothing I did was making it better. Like the sailors (Jonah 1:13), I couldn’t get myself out of it. I needed God’s intervention to set me straight.

2) Uncomfortably Waiting

It got to the point where Tiffany told me that something was very wrong. She was concerned because I seemed to have lost all passion. Something needed to change. So we took time to pray and seek the wise counsel of others who have been there. And through this time, we became more confident that God was calling us to Zambia, at least for now. But, along with this confirmation of our call came an undeniable feeling that we were to wait on the Lord and not take any of this into our own hands.

Waiting isn’t exactly my strong suit.

In Jonah’s case, God had him swallowed up by a big fish. He had nothing to do but wait as he sat in the fish’s GI tract for three days. Wait for God to release Him from the gastric prison. Wait for God to set him back on the dry land, geared up for the ministry he was called to do.

Now, three days does not sound like a long time, but it probably felt like an eternity to Jonah. For me, waiting for three hours can seem like an eternity. Three days would be almost unbearable. But knowing that God was confirming our call to Zambia and simultaneously telling us to wait on Him indefinitely, my mind was reeling. Wait indefinitely?? Can’t I do that in a place that is more comfortable? Maybe closer to my friends and family?

I may still be in this season of waiting – I may always be – and it’s not exactly an easy thing to live with. But I’m learning. Learning to wait for God to work out the details. Learning to trust that He is in control, even when I try to run away or take the reins.

And this season of waiting is causing me to pray like Jonah did in chapter 2 – praying in acknowledgement of my own failures and efforts to flee, praying for His provision and forgiveness, and praying to recommit to the ministry He has called us to, whatever that may look like.

3) Reluctantly Obeying

Have you ever told God that you would obey Him wherever He may lead, and follow through on your commitment, but only out of obligation and not willingly and joyfully? That seems to be what Jonah did. He went to Nineveh and spread the message of repentance and salvation he was told to bring, but then got upset with God for actually saving the people of Nineveh. He did what God called him to do. He did what He told God he would do. But he definitely didn’t seem happy about it, especially after seeing the outcome.

There are times – more often than I care to admit – when I feel the same way.

I told God that I would follow His leading. I told God that, if He calls us to serve Him in Zambia, we will continue to serve Him in Zambia. Where He leads, I will follow. But that doesn’t mean that I’m always happy about it. Sometimes I feel like I’m continuing to do this ministry because nobody else is doing it, and I’m in too deep to give it up at this point. Other times I know that moving forward will be more difficult and more painful, and I really don’t want to deal with that. I do it, because I believe in keeping my commitments, but I’m not always happy about it.

And then I’m reminded that God doesn’t want our half-hearted obedience (Isaiah 1:11ff; Hosea 6:6). He wants our hearts. If I’m not doing this to honor and glorify Him, then He doesn’t want me to continue. The Pharisees were obedient to the laws, but completely missed the point. Balaam did as God commanded him to do, but that didn’t mean he was saved. Reluctant obedience is not a pleasing sacrifice; worshipful and willful obedience to an awesome God in response to the grace He has provided through His Son – now that’s what He’s looking for.

That doesn’t mean it’ll be easy. But it makes the hard times worth it.

So my prayer for me, and my prayer for you if you find yourself going through similar times, is for a deeper relationship with the Lord. A greater, more intimate and personal knowledge of Him. Live to worship Him. This will pull you back from those times when you try to flee. This will give you peace as you wait for God to move. And this will bring you joy even as the path of obedience seems to bring nothing but difficulty.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart
And do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him,
And He will make your paths straight.

~Proverbs 3:5-6

21 July 2014

Great is Thy Faithfulness

Sometimes hard, ugly, painful, scary stuff happens.  Watching the news (or my Facebook newsfeed), it seems rare that there is ever a time when hard, ugly, painful, scary stuff isn't happening. Seriously. While the media can certainly desensitize us to the ugly things of this world, it can also wrench your heart into pieces and send you to your knees in prayer.

Today I woke up to the news that an infection took the life of a young missionary girl in Thailand. In the last few weeks, I had one friend lose her mother and another his son. Good friends from our church are learning a new normal after their three-year-old lost his legs in a lawn mowing accident. So many others I know are dealing with hard decisions, struggling marriages, and a whole lot of other ugly, painful, scary, stuff. I can't even begin to think of the struggles of those whose loved ones were on the Malaysian flight, or are on the front lines in the Gaza strip or the conflict in the Ukraine.

And not to discount the small, everyday weights that may be bearing on you and on us right now. You know, those little things that add up and just push you right over the edge but you stuff them down because it all seems so petty compared to the big, ugly stuff of the world. The car that won't start. The argument with your boss. The cookies that get burnt or the toddler who won't sleep. I hear you brother, sister, and those feelings are very real.

We live in a fallen world, folks. Whether your trials are small or immense, they're hard. I get that.

Our house was broken into yesterday. Really, our office, which is attached to our carport, separate from the house. Everything was thrown around as the perpetrator searched for money (not just speculation - he actually wrote "I need cash" in the dust on the hood of our vehicle). There wasn't money to take, but he did make off with an external hard drive, several flash drives, and other small items he could try to sell for the money he needed.

Despite living in a culture that is overwhelmed by poverty and desperation and material "stuff" is just that, this sort of thing can shake you to your core. For Luke with all that he's been struggling with lately, this put him right up onto the edge of burnout. Admittedly, I was shaken for sure, but I felt immense peace in the midst of it. In fact, I think it actually annoyed my husband when I didn't flip out. I just got mad at him for waking Michael up in the middle of it all. I don't know what it is, and I'm not trying to sound super strong and righteous, but God has just filled me with peace lately.

When we received a $700 water bill that our renters didn't pay - peace.

When we discovered that our electric line is sparking in the middle of a tree by our house - peace.

When we struggled to get the ownership on our new vehicle changed - peace.

And when we discovered the office ransacked and things missing - peace.

"I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world."- John 16:33

I can't explain it, other than that maybe God has given me an extra measure of peace at a time when Luke and Michael most need me to be strong.

We've been told that different terms of service on the mission field have different significance and purpose. We've only been here a few months, and I feel like I'm here more for what God is doing in me than what I'm doing for Him. Over and over again He has drawn me into prayer and given me great peace. In these trials - ours and those of the people around us, I just keep seeing His faithfulness.

Friend, He is so faithful. For real. I could basically type out Romans 8 right now and leave it at that.

"For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us." - Romans 8:18

We have hope. Brother, Sister, we have Hope in the hard, ugly, painful, scary stuff. We know the verses. We sing the songs, but I think it is in the midst of that very stuff - the hard, ugly, painful, scary stuff - that we can bask in His face and His glory and His faithfulness. And we have hope.

"For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience." - Romans 8:24-25

Luke often sings Great is thy Faithfulness to rock Michael to sleep when he's upset. Today, I found myself doing the same. And he calmed, released, and fell asleep in my arms. Perhaps it was the familiar sound. Perhaps it was the words. Perhaps it was the calm and peace he sensed in me as I was engulfed in the recognition and awe of His faithfulness.

Faithful in His Sovereignty and Grace and Redemption. Faithful in providing all that we could ever want or need. Faithful because He Is all we could ever truly want or need. Faithful in His unconditional Love for His children. Faithful in the promise that He will return and wrong will be made right and good will triumph over evil. Faithful as that very day draws nearer every moment. Great is thy Faithfulness.

"What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died - more than that, who was raised - who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, 'For your sake we are being killed all day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.' No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." - Romans 8:31-39 

Friend, in this world we will have troubles. The everyday battles are real - even hard, ugly, painful and scary. But the ultimate battle has been won and faithful is the One who has overcome the world. And we can cling desperately to that hope when the broken stuff of this world threatens to rob us of our strength, our joy, and our peace. He is faithful, and His promises are true - and oh so good.

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. And he who was seated on the throne said, 'Behold, I am making all things new.'" - Revelation 21:4-5a

He is faithful.

"Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow. Great is thy faithfulness, Lord unto me."

Come Lord Jesus.

07 July 2014

What happens when you wait on God....

So since the Wesslers are all about candid honesty today, I thought it only appropriate to give an update on how it's been coming back. I mean, how it's really been.

Before I do that, I'm going to add to Luke's list of things missionaries won't tell you but we'll tell you anyway. We are not superheroes.  We hosted a team last year that likened our missionaries to members of The Avengers. It was encouraging (humbling), but the only superhero talent I possess is knowing exactly what size tupperware I need for the amount of leftovers we have. (Ask my husband - I'm a champ). We are not more righteous or holy than you. We do not have an amazing channel to God that enables us to know exactly His will in every situation and He hasn't spoken to us through any burning bushes (yet?). We even go through times when we feel He isn't hearing our cries. Seriously.  *cue current favorite song* In fact, I think it's knowing our own brokenness and sin and desperate need for Jesus that makes us passionate about sharing who He is and what He did with the world (and we don't even do that very well sometimes). We're not here because we're awesome. We're here because He's awesome, and willing to use us despite our propensity to pretend we're superheroes and try to do things in our strength and end up walking straight into a wall of kryptonite.

Now that I've put that out there, I'll share a bit of the nitty gritty. As we were preparing to come back, we shared our concerns regarding Michael's health. In my mind, the only reason we wouldn't return is if we didn't feel it was safe for him. Personally, I felt a bit like Abraham. We prayed and prayed and prayed for a child, and who were we to tell God we wouldn't continue His work because we were afraid He couldn't handle Michael's health needs. I never considered that His work for us might not be Sports Friends. Might not be Zambia. Might not be international missions (don't freak out - just keep reading...). So when all the lights flashed green for Michael to come, I started packing bags and booking tickets.

If you know me, you know I'm a bit impulsive and headstrong. I was ready to come back and didn't consider asking Luke how he really felt. In all honesty, we left our first term absolutely burnt out. Exhausted. Hurt. In hindsight, most of my struggle fell around two things - bitterness and unforgiveness with particular individuals (that has since been resolved), and our struggle to conceive (also resolved, obviously). So as I experienced that healing, along with awesome encouragement from a conference last summer, I felt my cup starting to refill. Apparently, Luke was still running on empty. But once I get an idea in my head (the idea that all was well and we were coming "home" to Zambia), there's usually no telling me otherwise.

Fast forward to April, and we arrived back to a lot of work to be done on our house and only a handful of our churches using their training to impact their communities, and it was hard. As I wrote about in my recent blog, I know my calling right now is to support my husband in his calling and care for our family. But when I saw my normally passionate husband in a lonely, depressed schlump, I literally told him, "I'm not convinced this is still your call."

Ouch.

He'd been wondering the same. But I just put it out there and opened the scary, ugly door. Talk about crying out to God.

Over the next several weeks, we cried out. We prayed. We emailed a handful of people that we knew would give us honest responses and prompt critical questions. We considered the options. We asked ourselves and God those critical questions, and even sat down with some of our Zambian brothers and asked the same things. Does Zambia need Sports Friends? Does it need missionaries at all? What is the biggest need of the church here? What is the goal? Are we equipped and called to help meet those needs? And we waited.

Now before you freak out (or jump for joy (sorry Mom)), we're not leaving. At least not now. Had to put that out there before going any further. All that praying, questioning, refocusing... allowed us to do just that - refocus. One night while we were both waiting for responses from some trusted friends, God gave us each, separately, the same new vision for the ministry (still no burning bush, but it was clear nonetheless). I won't go into all the details, as this is already looking more like a book than a blog, but basically, we both woke up knowing that, yes, we're supposed to be here, and exactly how to move forward with Sports Friends in a way that will help to meet discipleship needs of the churches with whom we work and prepare future leaders for service and mission. We'll hash that out more in future letters/posts.

Some might say we wasted our first two months here, dragging our feet to get going. But sometimes in ministry (especially when "reporting" all of "our success" to supporters back home), I think there is a risk of moving forward in the ways we know or want to do things instead of waiting on God. Those weeks of waiting were hard (did I say I'm impulsive?). Really hard. But I wouldn't trade them in. Why? Because we now feel we are moving forward the way He has shown us rather than just doing ministry for the sake of ministry. Because it's His mission, not ours. And because, sometimes, He's doing a mighty work in us while we wait. *cue second song*

Moses spent 40 years in the wilderness before leading the Israelites out of Egypt. Jesus spent 40 days in the desert before starting his earthly ministry. Paul is said to have spent three years in Arabia and Damascus before starting his missionary journeys in Acts 13. So yeah, maybe we needed some extra time on the front end here. But now we're ready. And we can't wait to see how He uses us in this chapter of His story.

Four Things This Missionary Won't Tell You (But actually will, because he just did...)

There’s a blog post that’s being shared all over facebook that describes the 10 things missionaries won’t tell you. And I’ll admit, I read it. I resonated with a lot of it. And I shared it along with 10,000+ other people (incidentally, that one post has been shared almost as many times as this blog has been seen in the last 7 years combined). It was on my timeline for all of 7 minutes. Then I took it down.

I took it down because, though there’s much I agree with, there were parts that I, well, didn’t so much. It could have been his point, it could’ve been the tone, but either way, I realized that I didn’t want everything he said to be taken as what I would say. It’s not.

And then I realized, I’m a missionary. I have thoughts. And I have a blog. It may be a blog that nobody really reads, and it might need some serious updating, but it’s out there. And I can use it to write my own “things that this missionary won’t tell you but really does because we are open books in this house”. So here’s my list. I’m not speaking for other missionaries here – this is all me.

Our African "wildlife"
First off, communication. We know we need to write more updates and send more thank you notes. We are constantly talking about how we need to update our blog. And it’s not because we aren’t writers that we don’t update. (Well, that’s part of why I don’t update. Tiffany’s a writer, so that’s not really her reason.) I don’t write many updates because, as hard as this might be to believe, there’s really not that much to talk about most of the time.

Yes, we live in Africa, but we don’t have wild animals wandering around outside our house. We have two dogs and a cat. Our neighbors next door have some goats. Across the street, more dogs. Want to see traditional African wildlife? We can take a three-hour car ride to the game park and see some there if we’re lucky.

Yes, we are missionaries doing full-time ministry. But, much like those in full-time ministry in the US, that doesn’t mean we are seeing people trusting in Christ by the hundreds on a day-to-day basis. It doesn’t even mean we are out in the community spending countless hours building relationships with the local people. Because the people we work with have jobs, and families, and lives, just like we do. We build relationships and spend time with them when we can and when they can, but it’s not an every day thing. In fact, my typical day involves waking up (probably way earlier than I want to because the dogs are barking or Michael decides to wake up), doing my quiet time while I drink my coffee, then spending a bajillion hours holed away in my office reading and researching and planning and writing training materials. A few times in the week I’m able to have a brief phone conversation with a local sports minister or pastor. Wednesdays I spend most of the morning working in our garden, and then in the afternoon I make macaroni and cheese for my lunch/dinner. Basically, if you spend a day with me, you’d be bored out of your mind. And so I don’t write about it, because it’d be about as interesting to read as Little Women (which I will admit I haven’t read, but if it’s anything like the movie, I would imagine passing a kidney stone to be more enjoyable).

Which brings me to my second point: prayer requests. We need your prayers, and we deeply appreciate everybody who has been and continues to pray for us. We try to keep you all updated with our more pressing and immediate concerns, whether it’s illness or upcoming meetings or something involving the people we work with. But, that’s not all we need prayer for. Life in full-time ministry is hard, living and working on a spiritual battlefield. It’s true in the US, and it’s true here. We get down. We have bad days (weeks?). We question our effectiveness and even our calling from time to time. But we don’t always share all of these requests with everybody. In fact, I’ll even say that we probably need the most prayer when you haven’t heard anything from us in a while. Sometimes it gets so hard, we don’t know how to articulate it, so we don’t say anything at all.

Next up, money. Not all missionaries have to raise support; we do. But we haven’t found this to be some great burden that we must do in order to do what we want to do. We have been blown away time and again by the way God has provided for our needs, as we have never found ourselves under-supported and unable to continue. I have a friend who recently wrote a book about support-raising as worship, and really, it is. It is an opportunity for us to share what God is doing around the world, and it is an opportunity for people to join in this work. It’s not our work or our ministry; it’s God’s work. We may be on the front lines, but we aren’t the only ones involved. And assembling this team has been one of the greatest encouragements in ministry. Thank you to all who are a part of it.

Finally, loneliness. Yes, we are lonely. I mean, is that really surprising to anybody? Missionaries leave their friends and family behind and move to a new and different place. Obviously we are lonely. And that gets amplified by a number of factors. Yes, I have a relationship with Christ so I’m never actually alone. Yes, I have a wonderful wife who I love spending time with. But, I’m an extrovert, so not having people around me with whom I can relate is extremely draining, and I can’t put the responsibility on introverted somewhat-less-extroverted-than-meTiffany to keep me energized and entertained all day every day. The longer we live in Zambia, this becomes less of an issue as we are better able to relate with the Zambian people without necessarily feeling like we have to be “on” in order to be culturally relevant and appropriate. But, it’s still an issue.

But sometimes loneliness comes because the people around us, with whom we should be able to relate well, we just don’t get along with for one reason or another. Yes, everybody deals with conflict between coworkers from time to time. I get that. But when you live in a completely different country and these are the only people around who share a similar background, it’s hard. You can feel like you have nobody else to lean on, and so you end up feeling…lonely. (Caveat: I’m not saying we don’t get along with our fellow missionaries here. I’m simply saying that, even a small disagreement can seem bigger and more difficult because you’re not on the same page with the people around you who are inherently most like you.)

And though we are lonely, we are often too proud to say so. Or, we don’t know how to say it. I mean, do you get on facebook and say “I’m really lonely today. Maybe somebody should say hi”? But we do get on facebook. And we do appreciate when people “like” what we say. I actually click through to find out who “likes” it. Because it tells me that, though you may not have anything to say back, you at least acknowledge our existence, and that makes us feel a little bit more connected to somebody. (Interestingly enough, facebook stalking is just as creepy to us here, so if you’re going to mention one of our posts in a future conversation with us, please at least like what we had to say.)

This isn’t really a cry for attention – well, maybe a little one. It’s just a simple request from this missionary. I don’t often say write much, but when I do, I like to know if people are listening reading.


So, that’s my long list of only four things that this missionary won’t say but actually just did. I’m sure there are more, and this may be followed by an addendum or two in the future. 

31 May 2014

My Great Ambition

You want to hear something crazy? Being a wife and mom is hard work. Before you get alarmed, I’m not saying I don’t love my husband and child. No, my love for them is the very reason the job is so hard. Because sometimes loving them just doesn’t seem like enough.

You see, the last month has been a struggle. Me, I feel like I’m doing great – but I also feel like I’m the one holding all the pieces together. Some of it is the normal stuff I’m sure every mom goes through: when baby is teething and fighting sleep and no matter how much rocking, how many songs, and how much well-intentioned advice I try to apply, nothing makes him feel better. I want to be able to fix it all and make my sweet baby boy happy and healthy and sometimes all I can do is love him, pray for him, and let him know that I will be with him through the discomfort and yucky days.

How do I do the same for my husband? I’m trying my hardest to meet Michael’s needs and sometimes missing the fact that Luke desperately needs my attention, care, and love as well. Don’t get me wrong –Luke is healthy and fully capable of feeding and washing himself and definitely doesn’t fight sleep. But as we settle back into life and ministry here and my extroverted husband feels virtually friendless and exhausted before he even starts, he needs my tender care and support.

At my ladies Bible study this week a friend challenged us to pray about our ambitions. What are our ambitions for this next year? What has God placed on our hearts to do for Him this year? Well, normally I jump on those big hairy audacious tasks about taking His Word to the nations and helping His Name be known (as any good missionary would do), but man, when I started praying, God made it so clear to me: 

"Love your husband. Forget the big tasks – I’ll give those to Luke. You need to be there to love him, support him, pray for him and give him a place of safety and respite at the end of the day. Your job right now is to be his helpmate."

“But for Adam, no suitable helper was found. So the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man’s ribs and closed up the place with flesh. Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.” – Genesis 2:20b-22

 For many women, this may seem so easy. But if you know me, you know I’m a doer. I want to be on the front lines for the Kingdom. So to be given the task of essentially doing less is quite ambitious for me. Pray for your husband. Be there for him. Aside from your tasks in the home, don’t do anything – be there.

So when you ask me what my ministry is here, my answer may surprise you. Yes, I will still be involved in the ladies Bible study and I’m sure I will dabble in bits of this and that at times, but my number one role right now is wife and mom. The Lord has put it on my heart that our ministry (collectively, as a family), will be far more fruitful if I stand behind my husband than if I take off running alongside or ahead thinking that by doing so we will accomplish more.

And man is this a challenge for me. I want to do do do! And I find myself quick to push Luke to do do do more to make up for my lack of doing. I was the runner and he was the cheerleader – and if you know me you know I laugh when people ask if I was also a cheerleader. I don’t cheer from the sidelines. I want to be cheered by millions of adoring fans as I list off all of my accomplishments from the day/week/year.

But again I hear that still small voice calling on me to just love him, pray for him, care for him, and let him know I’m his biggest cheerleader and fan. After all, it’s not for my glory. It’s not for Luke’s glory either. Our roles here – our lives – are 100 percent for the Glory of God. And according to the Father Himself, my life of washing diapers and nursing Michael and cooking meals and buying groceries and praying for my husband and child can bring Him glory as well, and is more than enough.

“Her husband has full confidence in her
and lacks nothing of value.
She brings him good, not harm,
all the days of her life…
She gets up while it is still dark;
she provides food for her family
and portions for her servant girls….
Her husband is respected at the city gate,
where he takes his seat among the elders of the land….
She speaks with wisdom,
And faithful instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children arise and call her blessed;
Her husband also, and he praises her.”
-excerpts from Proverbs 31

May my husband have full confidence in me as I care for our family.  I know I will have to do some serious growing as I battle issues of selfishness and self-worth, but as we wrote in our most recent prayer letter, our worth is in Him. If His will for me right now is to rock my teething child to sleep, plan dinner and pray, pray and pray some more, then who am I to question if that is enough? He has provided, and He will do the rest.

What is His ambition for you this year?

27 March 2014

In my weakness...

We leave to return to Zambia in four weeks. Four weeks. It sounds so distant, but it is fast approaching, and emotions are running high. We've experienced most of this before - excitement regarding the upcoming travel, sadness over leaving family and friends behind, stress as we wrap up a variety of last-minute details.

But this time it's...different.

When we moved to Zambia in 2010, we were filled with excitement and expectation. Everything we had been working towards since before we started dating in 2004 was finally happening. We were moving overseas - to Africa - to serve as missionaries. We were starting a new life. It was all a great adventure. We were riding on a spiritual and emotional high.

And then things changed. Days, weeks, months went by. That adventure became life. And at times, life was hard. But we had each other, and we had God, and we made it through. What I didn't realize at the time, though, was how much I acted as my own worst enemy, how often I brought myself down, telling myself I wasn't good enough. I wasn't strong enough. I wasn't qualified enough. I was in way over my head. I brought myself so low that, by the end of our first term, I was completely burned out and empty. I needed to come back on Home Assignment.

And I didn't want to go back to Zambia.

I managed to convince myself that I wasn't the right person to lead the ministry in Zambia. I could list off name after name of people I thought could do a better job. People more qualified. People more spiritual. People with more energy, more training, more vision. People with a better relationship with God.

The thing is, I continued to feel this way up until just recently. Even after Tiffany booked our tickets to return, I was convinced that we were only going back by default. We had to go back, because the right people hadn't been found, so we were warm bodies willing to fill in until then. It wasn't until recently that this all began to change.

We were asked to talk about our ministry to the Jr. and Sr. High youth groups at a supporting church. They wanted us to talk about what we do, but more importantly they wanted us to talk about how we got there. How did we know God called us on mission? What steps did we take to get into the field? And it was in reflecting on these questions and preparing for this presentation that I realized that I was actually right. I'm not good enough, or talented enough, or smart enough.

And I'm not supposed to be.

After all, if I were good enough, I wouldn't need God to do the work - His work. Paul knew this and wrote about it in several of his letters, probably most notably in 2 Corinthians 12, where he says in verses 9 and 10,

"But [Jesus] said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong." (ESV)
Paul, this great missionary and leader in the early church, understood that he wasn't good enough. He would never be good enough. And this is what made his ministry so successful, because it kept him from relying upon his own strength and seeking to receive all the glory. Rather, he needed to rely upon Christ for the ability to continue in ministry, and it was Christ who caused the growth, who orchestrated the change, who made the difference, and who received the glory.

As we go back to Zambia, I don't want to be good enough. I want to rely upon Christ. I want to be open and ready to be used by Him, and my "good enough-ness" would stand in His way.

10 February 2014

On Going… or Staying

Tomorrow is the big day. The visit to the urologist. Luke and I have probably put undue weight on the outcome of this appointment in our decision on when, and if, to go back to Zambia. But regardless of the validity of that weight, it's there.


Michael has kidney reflux, vesicoureteral reflux, to give you the technical term. We suspected this months ago when his kidneys were enlarged in utero, but tests last month confirmed it. On a scale from zero to 5, the radiologist said the one side is a 1, and the other a 2 or 3. According to our pediatrician, this means he'll likely grow out of it. Even so, it will require some degree of follow up, to be determined at the urologist tomorrow.

We'd like to go back to Zambia in April. That's what we've been saying since we learned we were expecting. We may even be able to do follow up in South Africa, or even Lusaka, Zambia. But while I at least am holding out hope that will be the case, it might not work out that way.  The tests and medications may require we stay here.


So for the past several weeks (months), we've been throwing around a lot of "what ifs?". What if we have to stay in the states longer? What if we need to be here permanently? And after my obstetrician said it is very likely I would have preterm labor with future pregnancies and need weekly shots from mid-pregnancy on to help prevent that, what if we go back now and wrap things up when/if we get pregnant again?


And to be completely honest, we have valid options for all of the above scenarios. We know that God has a good and perfect plan for us and for Michael and if He wants us back in Zambia, He'll get us there in His timing. But I'm going to share an honest look at my heart in all of this…


First of all, we're not heartless or irresponsible when it comes to Michael. We don't want to take him somewhere where he will be in danger or "deprived" as some have put it. We know that growing up in the mission field has it's risks but it also carries an amazing richness of life we would love for him. We're not blinded to the risks, though, and are taking his needs into foremost consideration as we look at our future.


That said, though, we also know that if that is where the Lord wants us, His hand of peace and protection will be on us. As the psalmist says, "If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall lead me." (Psalm 139:9-10)

But here's the heart issue. I'm worried about you. Our friends and supporters. What will you think if we don't go back? What will you think if we have to spend a few extra months stateside before we head back? Are we letting you down? Failing in your sight? Or in a very practical sense, squandering your support as we wait? 


As someone who desperately wants the approval of others, your reactions are sometimes more daunting than the actual course of action. The fact that you could think that we are being lazy or greedy or whatever other concept I can think of as I worry is well, worrisome. That we may have "failed" in our missionary endeavor that we've set our hearts, minds, and life on since we started dating almost 10 years ago is frightening. Who are we if not missionaries? What would life even look like if not focused on taking His Word to the nations?


Yes, we know we can have that same focus from central Illinois or Charlotte or Dallas. We could work with SIM or Sports Friends in recruiting or material development or communications or other ways to further the Great Commission. Or we could be going back to Zambia for a shorter, more determined period of time, or perhaps indefinitely. We don't know - and we may not know after we visit the doctor tomorrow. 


God rarely spells out more than a short glimpse of what He has in store for us moving forward. It's often day by day, week by week. I don't think we (anyone) could really handle more than that.


As we look for that next glimpse - as we think about April or next year or several years down the road - we know it's in His hands. In the meantime, I will try to trust, and try to humbly realize that your love is not conditional - not based on souls saved or our geographic whereabouts. I will ask, though, for your friendship, and for your prayers. Prayers for health, especially for Michael. Prayers for wisdom. Prayers for peace. 


We don't know what tomorrow may bring, literally, in the sense of February 11, or figuratively in the broader sense of our future, but we know we serve a good, powerful, all-knowing God who has a good, wonderful plan. We've hit speed bumps and detours in the past and He has always shown us a new, better way forward. So we hold our sweet babe and set all planning aside, waiting for tomorrow in confidence of Him.


"Come now, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit' - yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.'" - James 4:13-15