Eternity

It's come to my attention that I haven't blogged in a while. It's true. I actually have quite a few drafts saved, I just haven't refined them.

Work is going well. It's been a bit slow now that the high school has finished classes. I'll start teaching summer school next month. I love those kids. The high school here is so much like an American high school. There are the popular kids, the jocks, the princesses, the suck ups, the picked on, the class clowns, the hard workers, the geniuses.

Sometimes I still have a hard time believing what I do. I'm so blessed.

I was overwhelmed at God's faithfulness today. Overwhelmed.

I wish I were faithful all the time. I wish I were more steadfast. I wish I kept God's promises always at the forefront of my mind, never forgetting what lies ahead and always forgetting what lies behind.

I only have four and a half months here. It's hard to think about that. I love this place so much. My heart aches at the thought of leaving it. I know that's a good place to be. I've been in other places when four and a half months seemed like an eternity.

I've been thinking a lot about eternity lately. It's a pretty huge theme in Luke, which I've been going through for a while now. I suppose another thing that I wish is that I would always think about and base my decisions on eternity.

I reread the story of the centurion who sent word for Jesus to save his servant the other day. I gripped me so much. Honestly, every other time I had read it, I wondered why Jesus marveled at his faith. Almost everyone seemed to know Jesus could heal. That's part of the reason why people spent time with him. Why would Jesus think that was so extaordinary? And then it occurred to me that it was not that the centurion believed that Jesus could heal, but that the centurion knew he was entirely unworthy of such a gift. This guy, who the other leaders insisted was indeed worthy, because he built a building, felt the emptiness of his works, and their uselessness to create a credit to his name in the eternal ledger. He was humble, and God exalted him, just as was promised.

The One

I stare at you from across the room.
I know you are watching.
I sit, still, wondering.
Will you be the One?

You've been watching me for sometime.
Debating how to make your move.
Part of me has forgotten you
But I question again, will you be the One?

You want to rest your hand on mine. You try.
But I do not want you.
You ignore my rejections, which come even violently.
And I have to wonder, will you be the One?

I wish you would just go away
I know what you want, but I cannot be that for you.
Nevertheless you stay, and I wonder
Will you be the mosquito that gives me malaria?

What do we do Now?

"Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgement." Romans 13: 1-2

I don't imagine anyone needs my opinion on the recent elections. Everyone seems to be sharing their own completely independent of me. Nevertheless, I will. People seem to be upset about President elect Barak Obama winning the election. I suppose it's fair enough not to like that one's candidate did not win the election. It's also fair to wonder what will happen now that his policies will be our policies. It's even fair not to like him. But the bottom line is, he DID win the election. And the Bible clearly tells us to submit to earthly authority. Like it or not, God has ordained Obama to be our leader (for those of you who are American) and we must submit to him and respect him. And, that's not so much my opinion, that's the Word of God. And, how bad do we look when we squabble and complain in public about this anyway?

Everyday

Man I guess it's been a while since I posted. The month of fasting has come and gone. I had some good food during the evenings to be sure. I have definitely come to love falafel. I suppose I've spent too much time lately thinking about myself and my own struggles. Here is something I wrote during my walk with Him through the valley.

Here I am again
Poster child of unfaithfulness
Letting circumstances take away my heart
I've hidden from you and feared evil instead.

Thank you for the covenant.
Thank you that you bless anyway.
Thank you for not letting go
Even when I struggle from you.

I wish I were a perfect person
But right now just better than this.
When people see a hero and someone special in me
They forget you wouldn't have come if we all weren't wretches.

So help me Jesus.
I want to do great things, forgetting I'm called to greater.
I forget you've called me first to walk humbly with you.
I want to love the world but fight loving my brother.

Whatever it takes,
Bring me back to you.
Restore to me the joy of salvation.
Help me walk humbly with you.


As I think about life's journey, and consider that I am about halfway through my time here, I'm really convinced that it's everyday that matters the most. Whenever we embark or finish something we are filled with emotions, nostalgia, romantic ideals. But, it is when we stay the course when things are mundane, difficult and frustrating that matters. What does it matter if we are sincere at the end or beginning of something if our love isn't genuine and walk isn't faithful during the in between times. Moreover, some say that it's how we react to adversity that defines us. But how we live our lives everyday affects how we react to adversity. We wont be ready for the smallest hill if we aren't daily spending time with Him. We wont love intensely serious enemies if we don't love the man who cheats us over the price of a kilo of tomatoes.

And that's all for now.

Fruit

I have a story that happened a while back here (and by here I mean Africa but not this country, and by a while back I mean about five years ago). But, it's hilarious, and if I had had a blog then, I would have written about it.

I was riding up to the capital city with some national friends in public transport. Along the way, we stopped and a friend bought a bag of fruit that I had never seen before. She politely handed each of us a fig sized piece of fruit. I began to eat mine and became overwhelmed with the disgust of its taste. It was horrifying. I didn't want to be rude and not eat it, and couldn't just throw it out the window because that would seriously be wasting food. So, I was resolved to keep trying to eat the thing even though each tiny bite sent me into internal convulsions. Everyone had finished theirs long before, so finally, I offered mine to the guy in front of me, figuring he would enjoy a second helping. He, however, took one look at it and said, "this is bad" and threw it out the window.

loving africa. finally

My relationship with Africa had a rough start. I hated my first year. I could find nothing in common between myself and the people. I cried a lot, and wanted to go home nearly everyday. It was only after I nearly died in a middle of the bush and middle of the night house fire that things started to change for me. Humbled by the overwhelming help that went above and beyond our standards for assisting one's neighbor, I slowly began to change my thinking about the place. For starters, I focused on what I had in common with the people, that we were made in His image, fallen and in need of grace. Seeing people through those eyes, and becoming used to life in general on the continent helped me get to the point of gracefully learning to live and at times enjoy Africa. That was my second year. I've nearly finished my third year. I found that my third year I really liked Africa. This continent is somewhere I would chose to be, simply for fun. I became very comfortable and content here. I love my neighbors, friends, job, colleagues and students. And even as I start my fourth year, I can see an even better change. I love Africa. I did not know I could love it this much. I still love seeing people on the street cutting up vegetables for breakfast, love watching kids walk to and from school, love speaking Arabic, love the hospitality of this culture. Though it is often difficult, I love this place very much. I love my life, and sometimes I'm overwhelmed at the fact that I am so blessed, blessed beyond measure just to live here. And, more importantly, I love what I have the privelege of doing, and the kind of people I have the privelege to be around.

Winter

There's a scene from the movie Pretty in Pink that often comes to mind here in this land of sand. Andy is talking with her mother-figure about going to the prom. The mother-figure recounts a story of a woman who would every once in a while look around and wonder what she was missing, if she had forgotten something. she would count and look for everything important and then she realized that nothing was wrong, but she had never gone to her prom. A true story, even for the movie, doubtful. Nevertheless, that's how I feel all the time. And when I realize what is missing missing, I realize that it's not having had a winter last December-March.