The Significance of Senders

I didn’t realize Michael was listening (though he’s always listening) when a few moms were talking about jobs at the park today. All of a sudden he chimed in with, “my mommy is a missionary – and I’m a missionary too!”

He likes to tell Luke he’s a missionary, usually followed by, “so that means I need to come to work with you.”

We’ve talked a lot about how Jesus calls all of us to be missionaries, and to tell people about him. We also talk about how Daddy’s job is to train new missionaries how to tell people all over the world about Jesus.

Staying here to train those who go.

“How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!” – Romans 10:14-15

How are they to preach unless they are sent? It’s pretty huge. They can’t go if we’re not sending. And we absolutely 100 percent feel that this is right where God wants us right now. We have such a passion about our work walking new missionaries through the process of going, and a peace that this is our calling for now. Yet sometimes it feels so insignificant. Especially when we try to communicate our role here to our financial partners.

As a writer, I love to tell stories. And for four years, we were able to share some pretty incredible stories of God's goodness and power. We experienced firsthand pretty incredible stories of God at work. Now I sit to write our newsletters and don’t know where to start.

But lately I’ve started thinking about the stories that aren’t ours directly, but because of the training and wisdom and support we were able to provide, are happening all over the world. Stories of changed hearts from discipleship, breakthroughs in communities through sports ministry, hope and healing brought through medical care. Stories where our missionaries have experienced God in new ways as they’ve been stretched by cultural learning and adjustment.

Sometimes we hear these stories through their blogs and facebook and newsletters. Sometimes it’s a 6 a.m. Skype call to Japan or Senegal or an email asking for advice or prayer. It’s the praises in chapel for people getting on their first plane or when the visas for East Asia are finally granted.

Through their stories, we are reassured that our roles are significant. That we are part of the sending. So how do we communicate that to you, our support team and prayer warriors? It’s certainly not as romantic as heading off to Zambia to work with orphans and vulnerable children. And this is where I’ve struggled in communicating our needs since we returned from Zambia. Raising support is honestly one of the hardest and most humbling parts about being a missionary – and one of the hardest things we’ve ever had to do. Raising support here in the US is especially difficult, because the stories look different and life looks different.

But if I downplay our importance in the process – as senders – I feel like I’m also downplaying the importance of your role in the process – sending us. Your support and prayers are significant; because by standing with us, you are helping these folks take the Good News of Jesus Christ to the world. And my friend, that is something in which Jesus has called us all to play a part.

So thank you, for those of you who have supported us and prayed for us. We especially thank those of you who have continued to see the significance of this work even though our location and ministry have changed. Thank you to those who have started supporting us in the last two years. You have helped us see the significance in the work God has called us to here in the US. And thank you to those who are considering joining our financial team even now.

As we come up on the end of SIM’s fiscal year this month, we are sitting at about 82 percent of the support we need to sustain our ministry of training and equipping new missionaries. One-time gifts this month would be a huge help in making up that deficit. Of great need right now, though, is several friends to commit to new monthly giving to support our work here.

Please pray that the Lord would raise up new members to our financial team. Please prayerfully consider whether God might be leading you to join that team yourself. If not for us, we can direct you to other missionaries in various ministries who need financial support.

And he said to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. – Luke 10:2

We are helping train laborers for the harvest. What an awesome opportunity – and you can be a part of it! Let’s be senders.

Let me know today if you want to join our team, or click here to sign up for regular giving (or to make a one-time gift).

We appreciate you. Your role as a sender is significant. Your prayers are incredibly significant. Thank you.

We've enjoyed working with this sweet family - who leave this week for Ethiopia!

 "I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you all making my prayer with joy, 5 because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now" - Philippians 1:3-4

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

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

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. 

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.

Broken and Poured Out

This may come as a shock, but there have been times that we haven’t wanted to go back to Zambia. Don’t get me wrong – we love Zambia.  We love the Zambian people, we love the ministry, and we love life there. But over the last several months, we’ve questioned whether or not we are supposed to return.

You see, we’re exhausted. Life in the mission field is so awesome, but it’s exhausting. Serving God in this capacity, even when you know it’s where He wants you to be, can take every last drop of energy and strength out of you.

I’ve been at the Women of Faith conference here in Peoria these last few days, and hearing one of the speakers today, I knew we’d be going back.

She first spoke of John 14:12, where Jesus says that those who believe in Him will do even greater works than He. Greater not in the worldly sense of powerful and spectacular, but greatness how Jesus often refers to greatness – humble, quiet service.  So hold onto that: if we believe in Him, we can serve/love/live in greatness.

Now jumping to a passage that we often overlook unless we’re simply reciting it as we go to take communion… Luke 22:14-20

At a moment in which Jesus is redefining the centuries-old ritual of Passover, He not only serves the meal, but He becomes the meal.  He basically tells the disciples that the offering that is the Passover meal – that he was becoming the content of that offering.  And then he says, “do this, in remembrance of me.”

I, like many people, would have thought that “doing this” was simply taking communion, in memory and celebration of Jesus’ sacrifice as the Passover lamb. But breaking it down to the original Hebrew (in her words, not my study), the “Do” means make, but in a present habitual term – continuously make. Make what?  The remembrance, which basically means, “make real.”  Jesus was telling His disciples to constantly make this – this idea of being a living sacrifice for others – real.  He was providing a model for living and discipleship.

We, as Jesus’ disciples and followers, are to be a broken and poured out living sacrifice for the healing and restoration of others.  We should live out His sacrifice and be the eucharist in our daily lives.  We are part of the body of Christ, pouring out our spiritual power.  Sometimes we’re the ones pouring out - the broken bread, and sometimes we’re the ones being nourished.

I think of the story in Mark 5:25-30 where the woman who had been bleeding for twelve years touched the hem of Jesus’ garment, in a last desperate – faithful –attempt at cleansing and healing.  And she was made well.  In verse 30, though, we see the effect on Jesus: “And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone out from him, immediately turned about in the crowd and said, ‘Who touched my garments?’”

Jesus, fully God and fully man, felt the power go out of Himself. When we start feeling the power going out of ourselves, we know that others are receiving life.  We know we are the bread when we start breaking for others’ hearts.  And if we’re not being poured out – if we’re not breaking for others – maybe we’re not doing what Jesus called His disciples to do the night of the Passover.  Maybe it’s time to be the bread, broken for others.

Thinking about our lives in Zambia, I realized something.  We didn’t come home empty and dried out and broken because of the things we whine about:  power outages and water shortages and long lines and mission politics.  We were empty because we were being poured out for others.  We were being broken again and again and somewhere along the line should have stopped and found a way to be on the receiving end of that – to go to a quiet place away from the crowds to rest and hear from God.  To recognize the brokenness of our Savior and the strength He gives us to carry on. But because we started to try to nurture the brokenness with our own strength, the little petty concerns just piled on top of it all and we ran out of fuel (which is part of the reason for this time in the States - to be on the receiving end of that bread from the broken pouring out of others - to refuel - and we praise God for pastors and teachers who are willing to give of themselves in this way).

So when we think about going back, we know it won’t be easy.  We know we will be broken and poured out in ways that bring such joy and heartache that we can’t imagine it now.  We know people there are people who are broken and lonely and lost and don’t know the Savior who is the bread and the life, and we know that it may break us a bit to be that to them.  And when the power goes out and we can’t take a hot shower in the midst of that brokenness; when we’re feeling alone and heartbroken and weighted down with heaviness for the pain we see around us; when we’re desperate to give up and just serve people who are easy to serve and safe and blessed (when it wouldn’t take everything out of us because we wouldn’t actually have to give much); we remember Jesus and His brokenness.

As one of the women tonight described Jesus’ death on the cross, she said she’s tempted to be depressed and sullen and sad when she thinks of Jesus’ death, but knows that sacrifice was actually His finest hour.  He was broken and poured out so that we may have forgiveness from sin, fellowship with the Father, and eternal, abundant lives, doing as He did, and doing “greater works than these.”

The popular worship song says, “I’ll never know how much it cost, to see my sin upon that cross…”

He was poured out and broken for me in ways I’ll never understand fully.  If we have to miss a few showers or leave our family and friends again or move houses or occasionally experience discomfort, sadness, or heartache… who are we to turn away and keep the Good News and these acts of greatness to ourselves?  He died for me.  He died for you.  And He died for each of the people we serve.  May we be the bread, and when needed, be broken for others.

Thank you Jen Hatmaker for sharing your message today. 

Because He Lives

Every once in a while something pops up that makes us think, “what if?”  A note from a former employer or co-worker, a discussion about some past achievement, the Olympics (I’ll elaborate on that one), or a general feeling that we’re not accomplishing anything here…

What if we had taken a different path? What if we were still in that job?  What if we had continued in certain sports?What if, what if, what if.  Sometimes, it carries a twinge of jealousy or remorse. “I could have been…” or “remember when?...”

It’s like a conversation Luke and I had several years ago during the Olympics when Luke asked me, “Do you ever think that if you had trained a little harder, you could have made it to the Olympics?” – not just in reference to my running, but also to his gymnastics and diving talents.  A sort of, looking back, wondering if we took the right turn in the road.

Yesterday I wandered onto LinkedIn, a networking site I used quite a bit in my “corporate life,” seeking out partnerships and job opportunities, posting open positions, and building expertise in areas of marketing and communications.  I had several “recommended jobs” pop up and jokingly asked Luke if I should apply for a specific job that came up. 

I think it was more to prove I’m capable of such a position than an actual desire to do it. To "live up to my potential." The power, the glory, the accolades….

And then I remember the cross.  And His power. His glory.  I think about Hebrews 9:14 where it says, “How much more, then, will the blood of Christ… cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, SO THAT we may serve the living God!”

We serve a living God!A living God who sent His Son to die and on the third day rise from the dead so that we may approach the throne of grace through the righteous perfection of Christ and worship Him and serve Him!

‘"Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will make you fishers of men.” At once they left their nets and followed him.’ – Matthew 4:19-20

I keep trying to pick my nets back up.  Sometimes I think that would be easier.  Or at least a bit more predictable.

And then I think, many of the disciples were trained as fishermen for a reason – maybe to help them become “fishers of men?” So I get all Eric Liddell about running and think that maybe God wants to use that. He does and He has. Not through some Olympic medal, but it was because of running that I went to Bradley, where I first heard God’s call on my life to missions and met Luke.  And through training and persevering and having great coaches and some not-so-great coaches, Luke and I both have a greater understanding and perspective as we equip young men and women here to use sports to share Christ and make disciples.

In the job sphere, perhaps using my writing and marketing to tell people about God’s awesome glory and help share what He’s doing for His kingdom in Zambia is why He gave me that net in the first place. It may not carry the huge paycheck here on earth, but Christ already reserved a treasure for me in Heaven. 

Our call to serve God here is still very clear, and there’s a certain peace (in the midst of turmoil) that comes with being in His will and using our gifts to serve Him.  Yet, we are still so very human and often still think we need affirmation and accolades.  And while waiting to one day hear God say, “well done, my good and faithful servant”  (Matthew 25:21, 23), I believe He sometimes gives us affirmation through creative channels, like this message I found from a former co-worker while browsing LinkedIn yesterday:

“Hey Tiffany – I was driving this morning when my partner called to tell me about a marketing manager role in Dallas. I started telling her about you and said that I would look you up.  Then I saw your profile – WOW! Stand up and applaud! I have said for years that I wanted to have “time” to volunteer and serve.  Something that there never seems to be enough of…. Time. I think that what you are doing is so awesome….. Just wanted to tell you how impressed I am with your courage.  Good luck – sending prayers.”

I’m not posting this so you congratulate us on our work as missionaries.  Often we feel like we can’t possibly be making a difference. Sometimes we yearn for a “normal” life.

Then we think about verses like Luke 9:62 (‘Jesus replied, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.’”) and feel ashamed for even writing about our “what ifs.” But we remember the cross.  We look toward our glorious and living Savior. And worship Him in all His glory and splendor (and none of ours). We serve Him with a clear conscience.  And it’s all worth it.

Because He lives. 

Giving Up Everything

Often when we hear people marvel about how we "gave up everything" to move to Zambia as missionaries, we kind of shrug it off, almost feeling bad that they think that. This isn't sacrifice! I mean, we love so much about life here. We love how on a given Sunday we may be worshiping with people from as many as 10 different nations. Getting to a recipe calling for lemon juice and we just grab the fruit from our tree. How the air drops from a hot, sunny 100+ degrees to 60 and stormy in seconds during the rains. How everyone in our growing town, from the post office to Shoprite to the marketplace, knows when we've been traveling (and asks what we brought them). Walking everywhere at all times of the year. The friendly, relaxed pace of life. How Luke and I have been forced into a stronger relationship because sometimes we're all we've got. Seeing genuine change from things we've taught. And how when you're where God wants you, there's just a peace about life.

But then there are times when we long for life stateside, feeling the "sacrifices" just aren't worth it. Being a target for lewd comments and demand for handouts wherever we go. Not being able to take a peaceful walk through the neighborhood holding my husband's hand. Power cuts, plumbing problems, and frightening roads. Lack of quality healthcare and screening, especially as we try to start a family. Pouring ourselves out spiritually without a fountain from which to drink. Injustices and inefficiencies in policies and policing. The inability to use reason to solve problems with processes, bills and the above inefficiencies. Times when there seems to be zero fruit from all the ministry efforts. And missing important milestones, family events, weddings, funerals, reunions, and all our friends and family back home.

Usually the good outweighs the not-so-good, but as we've noted in our last two prayer letters, sometimes the bad just mounds up in a giant pile of stink (like the trash in one of the compounds we walk through each week). Those are the times when we find ourselves thinking maybe it's not worth it. Life would be "so much easier" back home. We tried and that's enough, right?

But what if Jesus had said that? When he didn't feel like his disciples were "getting it." When his own mother made selfish demands of his time and ability. When the need around him was too much. When everyone wanted to take, take, take and his strength waned. When one of his best friends betrayed him. When the stones were thrown. What if Jesus had given up and gone back to life as a simple carpenter, because it would be easier?

I for one am glad he didn't. Think of the pile of stink we'd all be in if Jesus had given up on the road to Calvary - turned around, and gone home - because saving us from the debt of our sin wasn't "worth it?"

And so we remember why we're here. Not for some romantic, idealistic aid project. Not for the accolades of others (though the affirmation is certainly nice sometimes). Not because life is easier or inherently more enjoyable in this hemisphere. But for God's glory. Because of Jesus' death on the cross and resurrection for our forgiveness. Because many millions of people haven't heard this Good News of forgiveness. He said we were worth it. He also said to take up our crosses and follow him - not because it would be easy (in fact he says it may be downright difficult) or because we would receive earthly treasures - but because He's worth it.

So we may have given up a lot to serve Him here. You may be giving up a lot by supporting us in that work (thank you thank you thank you!). But, it's all so little compared to what he gave up for us, and all so worth it.

"What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ" (Philippians 3:8 NIV)

A Look Inside Luke's Head

This is just a glimpse into my (Luke’s) head - the "Llama's Logic" at it's finest.  I wrote what follows in my journal during my time in Ethiopia learning about Sports Friends.

I don’t know how anybody could come see this ministry and not be profoundly affected.  We visited three churches today, all of which were started through Sports Friends, all of which are in otherwise 100% M_slim areas, and all of which were growing, training leaders, and changing lives.  Denomination doesn’t matter.  Age doesn’t matter.  Building doesn’t matter.  God matters.  These churches exist for the glory of God and are actively and sacrificially evangelizing.  Visiting these churches, even briefly, was both humbling and encouraging, and I find myself deeply convicted of apathy.  I keep asking myself,

WHEN DID I LOSE SIGHT OF MY FIRST LOVE?

I was drawn to missions out of a confidence of God’s calling in my life.  Unlike so many things in my life now, I didn’t resist this calling.  I understood God’s amazing act of grace in my life, and I desperately wanted the world to experience His grace, too.  I was deeply, passionately in love with Christ.  But when did this raging fire dim to a flickering candle?  When did I become comfortable in simply being a missionary in title, but doing so little to actually tell others about Christ?

WHEN DID MY LOVE GROW COLD?

As I sit on the veranda of the beach house at Camp Langano, I look up and read

Be still and know that

I AM GOD

-Psalm 46:10

A simple verse, and one that I have known for years.  But even now it is exactly what I needed to read.  I feel so much turmoil in my life and ministry right now, and I am so excited to go back and see what God does with this experience.  I keep thinking of more and different ways to bring all I’ve learned here to the field in Zambia.  Strategies repeatedly come to mind.  Logistics.  Plans.  But I need to always remember that God is God, and He is in control.  So, we may go back and see nothing happen in Zambia; or, we can go back and see lives changed for Christ.  Either way, He is truly and absolutely in control.  I just get to participate in the great things He is doing.

So I look forward to getting back to Zambia.  I look forward to training church leaders to actually care about the spiritual state of the world and actually do something about it.  I look forward to being a part of an interdenominational church planting movement among the “reached” and the unreached alike.  I look forward to seeing God change lives.  I look forward to seeing the face and focus of missions change so that we see incarnational missionaries passionately and intentionally sharing the gospel.  That’s what is important.  When did mission strategy become more important than the gospel message?  When did the status quo become more important than radical change for Christ?  When did comfort become more important than Christ?  When did church polity become more important than gospel ministry?  In essence,

WHEN DID I BECOME MORE IMPORTANT THAN CHRIST?

Opportunity Knocks... Literally

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” Hebrews 13:15

Many people say they would gladly do mission work or volunteer or help someone if they knew of the needs – if the opportunities presented themselves.

Here in Zambia, opportunity knocks, multiple times a day.

During our initial period of language learning, we have strict orders from our directors not to commit to any specific ministry. No teaching, no set schedule, no planned activities. We have quickly discovered that language learning itself is a ministry, as is simply living here. Here in Zambia; here in Solwezi; here in what has been known as a mission house for 40 or so years.

Take yesterday (Friday), for example. We started our day at a grammar lesson with one of the veteran missionaries here and thought we would spend our afternoon reviewing our lesson and relaxing a bit, as Monday through Thursday we typically walk out to Kimasala (where our primary ministry will be based) to meet with our local language helpers. We have a gentleman who helps with some of the slashing (cutting the grass) and work around the house, and because his birthday is today, I sent him home with a bag of rice and a bag of beans for his family. They, like the majority of the Zambians, typically only eat nshima (balls made from ground maize, water and salt). Beans and rice are luxuries. I was humbled and shocked when he knelt down to thank me. Have we ever been that grateful for rice and beans?

Shortly after he left, a young woman visited who had been close to the Bruce family. Nyawa works with neglected elderly people in a nearby area, but is from Lusaka (the capital) originally. She came seeking encouragement, friendship, and advice regarding her ministry, as well as a relationship she is in. While she was here, Charlie, who will be moving into the cottage on our property, came to store some things in our home while his is under renovation. Shortly after Nyawa left and the others had parted, our friend Sharpy arrived to visit and tell us about his work at the local newspaper. Later, just as we were ready to go to bed, we had another visitor who has some items stored by our carport to talk about some struggles with his ministry. Even today, we’ve had two unexpected visitors already.

There are days when visitors arrive just as we sit down for lunch or dinner – we hear it’s fairly common and have learned to cook extra. There are days when our time in Kimasala goes hours longer than planned because people are looking for a listening ear, a word of advice, or a lesson in English. . We take plastic grocery bags and Styrofoam trays from meat with us so that the ladies at Lusa can use the bags to hold maize they’ve grown and the trays to display earrings they’ve made to sell to make money for the ministries at Lusa. Things we would have just thrown away become a viable part of their livelihood.

It’s both exhausting and exhilarating. And all the while, people are ministering right back to us in amazing ways. At least once a week, someone sends us home with maize, tomatoes, mangoes, bananas or other precious goods. We’ve had people stop by when we’re not home, delivering cucumbers, pineapple, and from our expatriate friends at the mines, frontline spray for our dog! (There is an awesome and unexpected ministry opportunity to the miners, but that will be the subject of another post). At times we are frustrated that we can’t “start” the ministry we say we came here to do, but at those times we remind ourselves that we are learning to better communicate, building relationships, and doing what we can for the greatest and “least of these.”

“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.... I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it for me.” (Matthew 26:35-36, 40)

Tubena Kufunda Kikaonde

A mi wa ne Mrs. Wessler. Twafuma ku Kwamelika. Twaiya na kufunda Kikaonde ne kukwasha bana ba kishali.

I am Mrs. Wessler. We are from America. We have come to learn Kikaonde and help orphaned children.

Get that one down and I’m set, right? Everyone tells us we’re learning very quickly, but I feel like I have to look up everything in my handy dandy notebook (Thank you Blues Clues) before saying it. Yes, my vocabulary is increasing significantly, and we have most of the greetings down, but this language stuff is HARD. It’s one thing to be able to say something to someone, but understanding what they say to you and then responding is a whole different story. And I keep wanting to resort to Spanish. Seriously. Especially because there is this horrible consonant that looks like the rolled “n” in Spanish, but sounds like the “ng” in sing. Not that hard, except it doesn’t end syllables or words, it starts them. Syllables always end in vowels. So here’s one of the words: Mwibananyi, used in “Anweba mwibananyi jizhina?” or “What is your name?” Break it apart…. Think: Mwi ba NGA nyi (but deep in your throat and hardly pronouncing it at all…). Okay, I’m going to stop now. I have figured out that if I say my name first (like the first line of this entry), I can just add, “Ngo bewa” to ask “what about you?” and avoid having to completely butcher the pronunciation. Enough of your language lesson for the day.

The fun part about learning the language is it breaks down a barrier. Because of the local mining community (with expatriates from all over the world), the local people are not used to the Mzungus (white people) making efforts to get to know them or speak their language. As we walk to Kimasala (the village where our ministry will primarily be based), or through the market, we see hard faces and looks of almost annoyance or frustration, but as soon as we greet people in Kikaonde or try to start a conversation, they warm up and tell us how great it is we are learning their language. What’s funny, is that a lot of people, especially kids, like to practice their English when they see us. Kids constantly ask us “How are you?” We think it’s the first - and sometimes the only – thing they learn because when we respond they have no idea what to say back! When we respond in Kikaonde some of them start laughing or cheering. People have started to recognize us, too. Our walk takes longer each day as more people greet us or ask us questions. The best is when the kids from Lusa Home-Based Care see us walking. On Friday a few saw me as we approached the last hill toward Kimasala, and they ran down the hill to give me a hug. Awesome.

We’ve also been told that we have to attend a different Kikaonde-speaking church each month during our language study to help us learn. Now we see people in the market who recognize us from church and ask about our work and our language study. I just wish I recognized them as easily as they recognize us!

With language study comes cultural study. We each have a great language helper that clues us in to traditions and “rules.” Like the men and women very rarely sit together in church. We’re talking full out separate sides of the room. Today we were told that a man will never sit in close proximity to his mother-in-law. Likewise, a woman would never sit near her father-in-law. So when Luke arrived to the home of his helper, the mother-in-law was there visiting and so Luke and Christopher sat outside for their lesson. Another thing – kids don’t receive any respect. There are different phrases and greetings and questions used for children than for adults. We add “mwane” as a term of respect to just about everything we say, but we don’t say it to kids – they would laugh or just be confused. But, you can ask kids things you can’t ask adults… like “what is your age?” (Or “how many years do you have?”) They don’t all know, but at least it’s appropriate to ask and answer. The kids will also run out to the road when they see us coming and yell “MZUNGUS” – letting all their friends know they see white people.

Even as we learn, we find ourselves as teachers. Our language helpers ask us questions about American culture. Today, Regina asked me if people eat nshima in the United States. Nshima is a staple here, made from pounded, ground maize that is boiled and formed into a sticky ball that is then used to pick up other food (think polenta… sort of). She was shocked to find out that we don’t. Then we discussed how our hair is very different and we have to wash it a lot more than they have to wash theirs. We also talk about language differences, helping them with their English. When observing the teaching of the children at Lusa, we sometimes even find ourselves correcting the teachers as they teach the kids English.

We are trying hard, and know that this is an important phase of our ministry – especially building relationships, but sometimes it’s exhausting. Communication is such an interesting thing, and I’ve never felt so much like I can’t express myself, even to those who speak English fairly well. I guess all things with time – and we look forward to a time when we can really share our hearts and speak to the hearts of our friends here. Shalaipo Mwane. (Remain well.)

Refocusing My Heart

2%

Of the earth’s population, it is only 2% who leave all they know and move to a completely foreign land to live and work.

We’re not talking about moving across the country, or even from one country to a similar country, such as the United States to Canada.  No.  We’re talking about New Zealand to India, Germany to Peru… or the United States to Zambia.

If it were easy to move cross-culturally, more than 2% of people would do it.  But it’s not easy.  And we have been reminded of this truth almost every day since we arrived.

People come by at all hours of the day, and we have needed to learn to give up our food, time, and even sleep to adjust to this open-door culture.  When we do laundry, it takes up to 5 days before we can wear those clothes again; if we put them on sooner, we may have fly larvae burrow into our skin.  Sometimes you can get milk, or cheese, or eggs, or bread; sometimes you can’t.  Sometimes you have power, or running water; sometimes you don’t.

Life is different.

And we knew it would be when we came.  But we were compelled by love.  And as we continue to adjust to the culture, I have been confronted with what the focus of my affection truly is.

As a missionary, we need to love the people to whom we minister.  In our case, this includes a love for the orphans and vulnerable children, as well as the sick and dying, the elderly, the poor, and everybody else in Solwezi.  Christ says that we need to love our neighbors, and we do.

But if it were love for our neighbor that brought me here, I can say that it is not love for our neighbor that keeps me here.  After somebody broke into our home while we were at church, it was not love for our neighbor that kept me here.  I felt little love for my neighbor at that point.

It is love for Christ that keeps me here.

Isn’t this the compulsion we saw demonstrated by Paul?  While on his first missionary journey, the people of Antioch and Iconium stoned him until he was nearly dead.  His response?  He returned to the city.  Why?  Because His passion for Christ compelled Him to bring the Gospel (see Acts 14). 

And so this is my prayer for me, and my prayer for you as well.  May a passion and love for Christ drive you in whatever you do.  For it is only through Him that you can overcome the trials and opposition you face along the way.  

We Must Be Crazy

“What in the world are we doing here?”

We would be lying if we said that question has not gone through our minds or come up in conversation multiple times in the last 10 days. I mean seriously, who in their right minds gives up the comfort of family and friends and the potential to make a lot of money; the ease of life in the US sheltered from the real need of the world, to spend a year and a half fundraising to turn their lives upside down and move to Africa as missionaries? We would have to be nuts to do something like that! Well, we’ve always been a little nuts (I type this as Luke is subsequently dancing and brushing his teeth). Even so, we’ve definitely had some freak out moments since we arrived in Zambia.

New people, new sights, new sounds, new smells. We have a new definition of clean, a new definition of sanitary; a new definition of normal and appropriate. Potholes have taken on a whole new meaning, as have snails, flies, waiting lines and power outages. And because we are in a sort of limbo, waiting in the capital until we can settle into our new home in Solwezi in early January, we have a lot of time to think, and ponder, and question, and doubt.

Keep in mind that from our first date, our entire relationship has been focused on getting here – serving God in Africa, so to question that call is to question the last six years and the entire future. (One conversation earlier had us discussing the “what ifs” if this mission thing “didn’t work out”… Med school? Hospitality? Missions pastor?) But God is good, and just when we’ve convinced ourselves that we really are crazy and need to rethink our plans, He provides a voice of reason and reassurance in the least likely of places. The team here in Lusaka had a dinner and movie night tonight, and went to see The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the latest of the Chronicles of Narnia movies (yes, there is a movie theater here, and it was only about $3 each!).

Throughout the movie, various characters are tempted to turn back or away from the mission at hand, distracted and lured in by things like wealth or power. Upon discovering the stream that turns everything to gold, Edmund excitedly told Lucy how rich they would be back in their world, with all the luxuries they could imagine. But they are reminded they can’t take those luxuries with them. Or even at the end when Caspian has the opportunity to cross into Aslan’s country with the prospect of seeing his father, he knows that for right now he must stay because the people of Narnia need him. Each character has to face down his or her major fear or temptation, and stand strong through the trials, knowing that the ultimate reward will be greater.

“’I tell you the truth,’ Jesus replied. ‘no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age … and in the age to come, eternal life.’” –Mark 10:29-30

There are so many things we could have if we threw in the towel and returned home. The opportunities for success by the world’s standards knock at our doorsteps. But we can’t take our riches with us from this world. Life would have very little meaning and purpose for us if we were not fulfilling God’s purpose for us. The people of Narnia needed King Edmund and Queen Lucy for a time, and at the end of this movie, it was clear their time there was over and they had fulfilled the purpose Aslan had for them. Their cousin Eustace though, would surely return as the people of Narnia still had a need for him.

For now, we know God has a purpose for us here in Zambia. In these few weeks of limbo, it is easy to get clouded vision, distracted by the frustrations and discomfort, letting temptations and lies creep into sight and mind before we have a chance to dig in and begin to really serve. In his new book about serving others, a dear friend from our church back home wrote, “It’s like using a video camera. It will automatically focus on the subject you want to shoot, but if something pops up between the camera and the intended subject in your field of vision, it will change its focus to the unwanted obstruction. You need to re-focus on what you wanted to see originally.”

Originally, we wanted to see God glorified… to see people from every tribe, tongue, people and nation praising and worshiping Him at His throne. We wanted to see orphaned and vulnerable children experiencing love. We wanted to see our Zambian brothers and sisters empowered to take the gospel to those who had no hope. And despite the temptation of an “easier” life or a life full of material wealth, we know that God’s purpose and plan for our lives will bring much greater reward than we could ever obtain for ourselves. We don’t know when, like Lucy and Edmund, we will return home to stay, but for now know that God wants to use us to help his people here. Despite obstacles and temptations, we know His purpose will reign true. As Reepicheep says when talking of Aslan’s country, “we have nothing if not belief.”

“The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever.” (1 John 2:17)

On African Soil

The title of this blog is deceiving. There really isn’t a whole lot of soil here… it’s more a red, sandy clay that when dry creates a slightly abrasive surface on all floors (think: sandpaper) and when wet, a thick red clay, similar to the kind you would use to create pottery by hand. Basically, though, it’s everywhere.

Anyhoo, enough about the soil, although you’d be interested in all the things climbing and crawling along in it, like giant centipedes and snails and cute little lizards… And then there’s the things growing out of the ground, like the mango trees, which aren’t quite ready for eating raw, but when cooked take on a flavor and consistency similar to cooked apples. There are absolutely amazing flowers as well – some lilies and other familiar ones, and some that look like they belong in the rainforest.

Speaking of rain, we’ve had some rain basically every day. The power has stayed on since we’ve arrived, though our water was off when we first got here. Today was actually sunny most of the day and Luke and I went out on a walk and visited a nearby market. We had gone to a grocery store when we first arrived to get milk and cereal and fruit and meat and such to last a few days (to my Dallas friends, it reminded me of Fiesta), but the market is completely different… especially considering the route we took had us basically going through the town dump, jumping over ditches where sewage mixed with rainwater ran alongside the alley way. I realize as I write this that a few of you are probably freaking out a bit about the “conditions” in which we are living – don’t worry – it’s not like that everywhere; even so, we constantly praise God for His provision in our lives, and for allowing us the opportunity to see what blessed lives we have lived.

So at the market, you can buy clothing – likely imported, used clothing, stacked in piles and definitely not very clean. You can also buy fresh fruits and vegetables. Planning to make spaghetti tonight, we bought a few tomatoes and a green pepper for about 500 kwacha each. That’s roughly a dime in US dollars. We also bought a large eggplant for 3,000 kwacha, about 60 cents (and we hear we paid the “white man’s price” – significantly inflated from what the local Zambians would pay). Also along the market path were butchers, barbers, and other tradesmen of sorts. We found a route back to the compound that involved trudging through much less waste and sewage – directly to the door of our compound.

We are currently staying at the Evangelical Church of Zambia compound outside Lusaka, Zambia. We have a quaint little guest house here until we move to Solwezi in early January. It is interesting living out of suitcases and crates, and one box that we had to open and now think we will have to replace before moving north. The first two nights we had dinner with other missionaries, but cooked our first real meal here tonight, making spaghetti with makeshift pots and pans and serving utensils. We look forward to settling into our own kitchen and buying spices and such and having a refrigerator bigger than a small dorm fridge. We also look forward to digging into “daily life.” Daily life right now basically consists of sleeping, cooking, eating and conversations here and there with the few missionaries here about what we can expect (or basically, not to have expectations). We’re learning early lessons in slowing down and taking life as it comes. We will be getting our car tomorrow night, and then may venture out a bit and explore as time allows.

We will fly to Solwezi Monday-Thursday for some time with the Bruce family before they head back to New Zealand. We will then spend Christmas and New Year’s here before moving to Solwezi. We hear that we will be attending a presentation of “Messiah” next Friday and have a big barbecue, or “Brie” for Christmas. We will try to update as we get settled in, but definitely appreciate your prayers as our entire lives and all that we know and are accustomed to are changed and turned upside down.

Thank you for your prayers, your encouragement and your support!

Note: I was not able to post this last night while it was still true. Shortly after going to bed, it stormed, and then the power went out until sometime mid-day today.

November 2010 Prayer Letter - We're Leaving in December!!!

It's finally here!  We have booked our tickets and are preparing to head to Zambia on December 7!  But, before we go, we still need $270 in monthly support.  Do you want to be a part of this ministry?

Read more in this month's prayer (and praise!) letter:

Stuff

It's amazing how much stuff we have. Seriously. First of all, we've spent the last six years focusing on following God's call in our lives into the mission field. That in itself is a huge deterrent to shopping. Basically, if we didn't need it, we didn't buy it. Other than our mattress set, we haven't invested in any nice furniture, and other than those gifted to us, decorative items are a minimum. Even so, as our departure nears (we're talking 6-8 weeks here people!), we find ourselves surrounded by stuff. We're talking knick knacks and crafts, furniture, electronics, cords (how in the world do we have so many random computer and electronic cords - I have no idea what they all belong to!), clothes, shoes, books, kitchen stuff, files, free stuff from fairs and events....

So what does Jesus say? In the story of the rich ruler, he says, "You still lack one thing. Sell everything you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then, come follow me." (Luke 18:22)

Okay. So, sell it all or give it away, and Go. I am never going to claim that I listen to everything God tells me - I have broken so many commandments and sinned like crazy. But, I'm the first to admit that I start feeling a little self-righteous when I think about us following the command to make disciples of all nations as missionaries. Whoo hoo! Look at me God - I'm listening... at least to that. That said, I was also pretty willing to just clear out everything other than a couple suitcases of necessities. After all, God called me to do it and I'd much rather give up my stuff than some of those other sins I've been harboring and not giving over to Him...

Sometimes I think it's enough to show that we're willing. A few weeks ago I started looking around and thinking, "What will we not use before we leave and therefore I can go ahead and sell it?" Teddy bears. I had collected Boyds Bears growing up and had them sitting on a shelf in our bedroom. Forget sentimental, they were impractical so I had to give them up. I posted them on Craigslist and my e-mail box was suddenly filled with responses. Then Luke, in his voice of reason (or just knowing he'd deal with the emotional backlash post-sale), told me he didn't think I really wanted to sell them and perhaps I could have my parents hold onto them for me. He was probably right, and even if I haven't really thanked him yet, my mom sure has. I was willing! But so was Abraham. I realize my stuffed bears hardly compare to the sacrifice of his son, but Abraham was willing to give Isaac up at God's command, and just when the time came, God said he didn't have to make the sacrifice.

Additionally, we've had other missionaries advise us to not be too quick to let go of everything. There's something to be said about taking just enough with you to make it feel like home. So where is the balance? What do I take? What do I wrap up and put in a box in my grandparents' basement until we decide years down the road that we really don't need it - or that maybe we do? Do we sell our fine crystal so someone can enjoy it's splendor, or do we let it sit unused in storage? Do we save old files and documents or shred them? Do we need to take all these books? What about pictures?

And so the process begins. We have people picking up our bookshelves this week and our futon this weekend. I'm weeding out my closet one item at a time, thinking about what would be culturally appropriate to wear in Zambia, and what I might want to keep here for our home assignments. My stuff isn't my idol, the way it was for the rich ruler, so He hasn't asked me to give it all up so I can focus on Him. I think it's different for all of us, and perhaps I should think about what it really is that He wants me to let go of so He will be first and only in my life. In the meantime, I'll continue to sort through my stuff, deciding what to throw away, give away, sell, store or take. And you can help - need anything?

October 2010 Prayer Letter!

This fall has been quite eventful!  We have seen God work in amazing ways, as we have been both challenged and encouraged.  Read more in this month's letter!

Your Questions... Answered

As much as we try to cover everything about our ministry in our prayer letters (see previous post), we don't want to put you to sleep with pages and pages of text. But, we realize, people have questions. So after getting some facebook feedback and collecting some of the questions you've sent our way, we've compiled the following list of FAQs. Did we miss anything? Ask us. Anytime.

Q. What will you be doing?

A. We will work at LUSA Home-Based Care, a ministry started by a national Zambian woman named Mama Yoba to share the gospel, provide basic education and food to orphans, home visits and encouragement to people dying of AIDS, and life-skill training to members of the community. We will be developing additional programs for the kids, discipling the caregivers and helping those learning life skills to learn how to make a living from what they produce. (There is a fish farm, chicken coop, sewing machines and some basic agriculture.) We will also be facilitating/hosting teams coming through.

Q. What is included in your monthly financial support?

A. Your gifts go toward our monthly salary for our basic living expenses, housing, taxes, international health insurance, a retirement plan (403(b)), transport to and from the field, and administrative support from SIM.

Q. How much do you have to raise?

A. Our support requirement is approximately $5,050 per month. This covers the needs listed above for us plus one-to-three children. (So we aren’t short on funding if the Lord blesses us with a family during our ministry!) We also have a ministry account to cover expenses specific to our ministry (postage, gas, educational supplies, vehicle repair, outreach for AIDS sufferers, etc) that will be about $450 per month.

Q. Are my gifts tax deductible?

A. Yes! SIM will send you receipts for any donations, as well as a yearly receipt for recurring online gifts.

Q. When should we start giving if you’re not leaving for several months?

A. The earlier the better! Any funding that comes in prior to the month of our departure goes toward our relocation expenses. If possible, please sign up right away. (If you know you will be giving monthly gifts in the future, but are not able to start yet, will you tell us how much you plan to give? We have to have 100% of our monthly funding “pledged” in order to buy our plane tickets!)

Q. How long will you be there (and if I want to support you monthly, how long does that continue)?

A. Our commitment is long-term, so we plan to serve as long as that is what God is calling us to do. However, we will return for several months of home assignment after every 2-4 years in the field. Ideally, your commitment to support us will be for the duration of our ministry but pledges are as God guides you and provides for you to give.

Q. Is my support covering any past debt or loans?

A. No. God has graciously provided for all of our needs and we have absolutely no debt!

Q. I want to be part of your ministry to AIDS orphans in Zambia. How do I get started?

A. Sign up for automatic bank withdrawals at www.sim.org/giveusa. Be sure to include our name and the account: #23444. You can also mail a check made out to SIM USA (Memo: #23444 - Wessler) to: SIM USA P.O. Box 7900, Charlotte, NC 28241. Please do not hesitate to ask us for any clarification, forms, etc.

Q. How can I share what you're doing with my family/friends/church so that they can have the opportunity to support you guys?

A. You are welcome (and encouraged) to share our letters and website (http://www.wesslersinzambia.com/) with them or send them directly to us via phone (309-363-2722) or e-mail (luke.wessler@sim.org / tiffany.wessler@sim.org). Also, if you provide us with their contact information, we will contact them and set up a time to get together or talk on the phone. Please share – your referrals and networking are very much appreciated.

Anything else?