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