The North.

Well I guess it has been beyond that point where it has been too long since the last post. Time has carried us into two full months of school now as October soon draws to an end.
In the past month I had the privilege of joining the missions department on the bi-yearly trip up North. I led a team to Fort Resolution where we simply tried to love people and the town, and where all our eyes were open to the need there.
Small, isolated towns lead people into various and, often, unproductive and unsatisfactory way of filling time. We definitely did sense that the youth desired a different life than the alcoholism and apathy of manner of their parents. People yearn for change, purpose, meaning and something more.
I hope our lives while there demonstrated the value we saw in their lives even if our interaction may have been mostly through games and just having fun.
God can use all sorts of things to do all sorts of things.
May the old become new again. 

A Most Beautiful Sight

 A new school year, a retreat in the mountains, new faces, new ministries, new stresses. The same God over and through it all.
Hard to believe that a month of school has already come and past, a little hard to believe how quick time is now passing and a little hard to catch a mental grip on everything as well. Such is the importance of slowing down sometimes I suppose. Catching your breath.
Here's some thoughts from the SWD retreat a couple weeks ago, a moment where I was able to catch my breath during one of our evening services.



The ground was cold and hard. Scattered all around were pine needles, small stones and old coals of fires from days gone by. The ground sits by the shore of a lake that is beautiful but not unlike any other lake in the area. The air is quiet and it is cool. Before long footsteps lightly shake the the ground, their sound like a soft drumbeat breaks the silence of evening solitude. They stop near the fire. A pair of eyes surveys the land, the small fire pit, the firewood nearby. Soon the sound of an axe splitting wood, and, when enough has been cut, two hands gather dried grass and small twigs from the earth. A small teepee is formed on the ground with the grass, twigs and a few choice pieces of cut wood.

A match is struck and brought near the twigs, but a light breeze extinguishes the flame. A second match, this time it is sheltered by a spare hand. Held near the kindling it soon sends it alight, and with a controlled breath the small flame soon engulfs the teepee and the fire has begun.

The sound of crackling wood and needs catches the attention of several more people, and as the time comes, soon a large group is gathered around that fire. They sit with a quiet expectation for what is to come. And what is to come? The sound of guitar strings reverberating in the night. Two hands carving a rhythmic beat into the air with a single drum. The voices of many ascending up and up and up into the sky quickly growing dim as the sun wanders further out of sight.
Those voices, that music, they are an offering of praise. Its not a lot given; no light show, no moving, rotating, extravagant stage, no pedal board for the guitar. Just people gathered on the ordinary, cold ground, surrounding the fire, lifting their voices and catching the moment.

I suppose that if that ground could have spoke, it may have often complained of how ordinary it was. Just dirt. Often trampled over, dug into and burned. Nothing really set it apart from other ground. I suppose that if that ground could see it may have often looked up into the sky where the clouds moved and the stars shone out. I suppose that it often must have gazed into night skies and, with the eyes of the people who sang around that fire, watched in wonder at the great expanse of lights, stretching from North to South and East to West, and thought "What a beautiful sight that is".

What the ground doesn't realize, though, is that the stars also, if they had a voice and if they had eyes, may also be looking down upon that ground. And as those stars gaze to the earth and to that place of fire and voices lifted up in worship to the creator, I suppose that, perhaps, they may themselves be looking and saying:

    "Oh, what a most beautiful sight that is. Those children of God acknowledging the creator we know so well and yet so little. Those people, so diverse and ordinary united together to worship the extraordinary fulfiller and creator of dreams and holy desire. If only the ground could fully know what sort of wonder it is tonight. A greater wonder than we shall ever be. Yes, what a most beautiful sight that is."


 Some photos from the weekend.

To Be Back.

What does it feel like to be back?
That's the question I really don't know how to answer.
It feels the same in some ways, but I don't want it to at all. I don't want to be left unchanged. I want to discover what things I see differently. There are areas of my life that I want to be drastically altered.
What does it feel like to be back? It feels unsatisfying until I can figure out what has really been refined and processed, sharpened and shaped in me. Until I can figure out why and how I'm ready to move onto the next things God has for me. Until I can say the things which deeply affected me have grown into branches bearing fruit.
I don't want to be unchanged. I don't want to file the person I was in the Congo away into memories and binary code transformed into stories on some blog.
Patience.
Perhaps processing through some of my lessons will help. I want to post something on here, it was a school assignment, but I think it will help you to understand my processing and some of my experiences overseas. The assignment was to develop a list of questions to ask a missionary on field and then to interview them and report on the interview in a paper. Here is that assignment:

The questions which I asked were as follows:

1. Name: Christina

2. When did you first come to the Congo?

3. Did you see any changes in the city since the time you came?

4. How has your perspective of the country/city changed since you first came?

5. What are some of the greatest difficulties you have felt?

6. What are the greatest joys that you have experienced while serving overseas?

7. What has most helped you overcome the difficulties?

8. How often do you go home?

9. What are your main responsibilities now?               

10. How do you balance personal time and ministry time?

11. How do you decide who to help (physically/materially) and who to say no to?

12. What would you change if you were to stay it all from the beginning again?

13. How do you stay focused and connected on God?

14 . What has changed in your vision since you came?

15. What advice would you give to new missionaries coming onto the field?

                Christina first came to the city of Bukavu in 2002 as a teacher and school supervisor and since then has seen the city grow in population, technology and resources. Automatic withdrawal machines have been added, many fancy houses built or in the process of being built, an increase of military activity, increased access to the internet and increased political awareness are all changes that she has noted since she first arrived.

                Since her arrival she has also been able to see the country a bit more "from the inside out". Knowing individual people and circumstances rather than the general situation of the country. I too, though my time has been short, have felt this change. Reports on the news become personal stories among friends while walking down a dusty road or driving in a beat up car. You see the individual nits and grits of life and remember that even in a country ravaged by war someone still needs to change the baby, peel the cassava, change the oil in the car and to dance to music blaring from the radio. I have seen a more intimate part of life here. Less extravagant or sensational than some may imagine, but more elegantly simply and beautiful than most know how to imagine.

                However when getting to know people here on a more personal level the stereotypical image of a 'mzungu', a foreigner, is not one that is easy to overcome. Christina felt that " We are not a woman or a man – we are a mzungu. We are not supposed to work hard physically; we should have the best places, get first in the queue, not to get wet...." I myself have often felt as though I broke the stereotypical image of a mzungu by choosing to walk to work each day rather than take a car. For this I have received more than my fair share of stares from people who just did not know what to make of a mzungu getting his pants dusty and his feet dirty on the Bukavu streets. Christina said that she knew many people see us differently out of "love, thankfulness or honor...but I still have problems with it...  Sometimes you just want to be a normal, real person and to be a normal, real friend.

                This has been my one of my greatest difficulties. There are a few individuals that I have greatly desired to demonstrate true friendship and care towards. However it has been a struggle because it seems that they cannot see me as a person but rather merely as a mzungu with 'unlimited resources' who is expected to help them as the people struggling to live. Prior to my internship my supervisor from STMNetwork asked me this question: "What do you need from the poor?" I did not know how to answer him  then, but now I would say that I need them to see me as a person and not just a resource. Only then will we be able to exchange genuine care, support and love that will result in lasting empowerment and change.

                 It is a constant struggle to know who to help. To know who genuinely needs it and to know who is lying to you. Christina said that "Everyone who asks maybe needs my help. Some are cheating and some who are really in need are not even asking..." It is hard to know who is going to spend the money to buy food and medicine for their family, and who is going to buy a Primus beer with it the next day. It is hard to know who's voices are genuinely touched by grief and who's are merely a facade put on to invoke your pity. As I have chosen to do, Christina said that she also rarely gives to people herself. It is just too difficult to know and to give only feeds into the stereotype of a mzungu probably more than it actually helps anyone. So even though it can be heartbreaking to so "no" to someone, sometimes this is the choice that has to be made and another way must be found to connect with them.

                This leads into what one of Christina's greatest joys while on the field were - to be accepted as a person. There have been a few amazing times where God working through my actions has allowed people to see me in a different way. Where they stopped asking for money or stuff and instead just wanted to spend time with me. It makes being relational much easier and rewarding as well when you know that the other person does not have some sort of ulterior motives behind their willingness to talk with you.

                To overcome difficulties and to connect with God  Christina mentioned how she enjoyed both spending time in preparation and delivering a sermon, as well as in prayer with other missionaries on the compound. There is an undeniable link between the most difficult days and the days where prayer and connecting with God were not a priority. I cannot deny that my greatest frustrations were on the days when I did not take care of myself physically (allowing enough sleep or hydration), and spiritually (spending the needed time in prayer and in the Word). When I had taken the time to pray, I always experienced a greater love for the city and thankfulness for the opportunity to be here.

                While taking care of yourself spiritually and physically, however, there keeps arising a tension between personal time and ministry time. Should you feel guilty about taking time to yourself? What is a good balance? I asked Christina about this as well and what she did to relax/recharge and deal with the tension of ministry and personal life.

                For recharging time Christina travels home for a month each year and then for a full year after every 6 years. While on field, with so much need and so many people requesting the 'endless resources' of a mzungu, it can be easy for ministry to consume your entire life. However more hours does not mean better ministry. So when she was not away Christina would also still try to have her own time to read, take walks outside the mission and connect with friends back home via the internet. It did not seem as though she felt like every waking hour should be 'ministry'. Of course as Christians we should live and breathe an intentional life for God always being "ready in and out of season" to do what He sees is good. However this does not mean that every hour is spent with others. Jesus himself often took time alone to pray and recharge. This is what Christina recommended when I asked what advice she would

give those new to the field - that they take a break and go away regularly. To keep the spirit refreshed, the mind focused and the heart thankful for where God has brought it and is doing in and through it.

                Her other piece of advice for those new to the field was to not be too eager to change or criticize things until you have a deep understanding of how things really are and why they are that way. To understand things with a lens beyond the one you grew up with in your own country. Your time should be first spent learning and walking through life with open eyes and ears. This is something I have been thankful for during this internship. There have been a number of time where I have felt like I was doing so little for the people here. However in reality my purpose in these three months is not to change the Congo. Though I am to selflessly love while here, it is alright to see myself as a guest in a learning position. That this time be an opportunity to soak up experience without having the pressure of career or outside expectations controlling my every move. Now is a time to see, hear, touch, taste life in a context so unlike the one I have known and to test my heart to see where and how this experience will fit into my future. The biggest change that will result from this time will no doubt be in my own heart and life. I am not seeking merely to satisfy or gratify myself after all, so I do not think it is wrong to think this way.  

                Now, in conclusion, I had also asked Christina what she would have changed if she was to being her time again. To this she responded that she would have been more quick to be involved in preaching and the spiritual activities of the church. There is something to be said about not forgetting the spiritual aspects of a land so saturated in social and physical struggles. I hope that no matter where I find my life leading in the future, that the spiritual condition of my friends and family and strangers as well, would always be on my heart and mind. I cannot forget that miserable people live both abundant and impoverished lives, but the spiritual rich have joy and strange peace in all circumstances. When I find myself unable to share physical wealth, may spiritual wealth be pouring out from my hands, my words, my thoughts, my prayers and into the hands, ears, minds and hearts of others.

Jambo. Canada.

50 hours of travel and transit. Nearly 30 hours of airtime. New people while traveling. 3 delayed flights. Familiar faces. All a part of the journey back to Edmonton. I'm feeling quite drained even after a good night sleep last night, so my posting may lack a little luster but just wanted to send a quick update and hopefully something a little shinier to come!

Last Days of Class Days.

Here I sit before my computer once again.
My classes and the tests for the students have all finished now,
yesterday I went through the exams, marking them and trying to figure out which students
had really learned well. For each of the tests I had a reading/writing portion as well as an oral part. I enjoyed individually 'interviewing' the first and second level students, however there were too many to test individually in the third level so the audio component was as a group. Below are the written portions for the each level.

First Level  

Second Level

 Third Level

I would just like to take an opportunity now to share some of my favorite exams answers with you from the different levels of classes.


Question 1: Can you give my directions to get to Nyawera Marker from Bethsaida Church?

1 student writes  - Directions from Bethsaida Church to Nyawera Market is localised on right direction if your coming from Major Vayou to Nywarea Market at Mahungu Street behind at Mahungu La Voix.  
--- I never got to Nyawera Market...

different student writes- Yes I can give you directions from Bethsaida Church to Nywarea Market.
---Classic

Question 2: Write 5 complete sentences of your own. 

Student's sentences: I'm a Christian boy. I still be young. I don't need a wife right now. I need to go far with my studies. I just put my hope in God.
 ---I think he was preaching to me. 

Question 3: If you had the opportunity to speak to a crowd of 10,000 people in Canada, what would you tell them? 

Student 1: I could tell them not to forget our country, in sending us missionaries, and the good missionary like our teacher Andrew. And why not tell them about good things which were done by my teacher Andrew?
---Needless to say, I gave this student an A+

Question 4: a. If you were given 25,000 dollars, how would you spend it? b. How would you use the money if you had to spend it in one day? 

Student 1: If I was given $25,000 dollars I can spend it in some projects. For example an agriculture project.
 If I had to use the money in one day, I mustn't spend it, because the project can't happen in one day.
---Point taken.

Student 2: If I were given $25,000 dollars, I can be happy and I can give the glory to the Lord

--his English was a little limited, and on the other end of the spectrum was student 3

Student 3: If I had to use that money in one day, I can notice that it is very impossible to use it in one day, so one has to think profoundly and deeply how that money will be used/spent. However, this requires somebody to think so much and planify, after planifying then you can spend it in a good way and think about the necessary things or needs for which you wish to spend that money on. But if you do not think before using that money and if you use it the same day, really make sure that you will do nothing unnecessary - the reason why one must think more and more in order to deepen his/her process.

--his English was not limited enough.


I'll definitely be missing my students with all their quirks and different personalities. I enjoyed seeing just glimpses of each of their hearts and passions while here and I really hope that they will keep seeking after God and find themselves in a life full of joy, peace and harnessed potential.

Letters to the Congo (Goma & Bukavu) III

Dear Congo,

I feel like our time together is slipping away now and, as I think of where I will go next,
I'm now having more difficulty writing the words of experience with you into my heart
as I had been in able to do in months past.
So lately I've been searching for a concrete moment to hold onto in mind and heart. 

I've had thoughts of my trip to Goma;
of the roads paved by volcanic eruption,
of UN tanks, cruisers and reminders of war that rumbled by
the pink, barbie mansion hotel I stayed in.

I've had thoughts of the boys riding their wooden bicycles like ghosts down the street
as the flour they transported in holey bags colored their bodies white. 

I've had thoughts of my visit to Green Lake just outside the city.
A beautiful body fed by underground springs.
A small haven in the midst of tree-filled hills,
yet with its own touch of dishonesty.
For as I arrived in the taxi I had taken,
I first saw the lake which rested at the bottom of a steep path.
Second, I saw all the trash. Its so easily hidden in a photo.
No one could be the wiser that as you stand before this pocket of majesty,
behind the camera sits heaps of garbage, rubbish, waste.
I've been unsure what to make of that moment, Congo.
I've been unsure what to feel about your people who treat the land this way.
Are culture and circumstance an excuse?
I'm not sure. 
But I try to hold my patience. I'm merely an observer in this time.

I've had thoughts of the pickpocket at the port,
and the nun on the boat who shared her meal with me.
I've had thoughts of the corruption of military men requesting money for 'infractions' I had made,
and of the vendor who searched for me to return 50 missing franks of change after a purchase.
I saw so many faces of humanity,
I have been so frustrated and yet so refreshed.

Amidst all these thoughts Congo, I think there is something I have been holding onto.
It's not a moment, or a picture in mind, but a thought that I feel I must tell you.

Sometimes I think, in pity, about all your people endure.
How the world of your children is full of dirty clothes,
smoke of garbage burning,
and water spilling from the yellow buckets on their backs.
So many of your people are so poor.
And I let myself think that they thus have some sort of excuse
for taking desperate measures at times. 
But poverty is not an excuse to sin, Congo.
If we allow ourselves to pity people in such a way that sins become excusable because of lack,
the cycle of brokenness will never end.
If we allow ourselves to see poverty as an excuse to treat the earth in the most convenient way available, all we end up with is soil stripped of its nutrients and of its usefulness. 
The cracks cannot be stopped with material taken by breaking pieces out of the same wall.
No, that cannot be the way.
Poverty is not an excuse for anyone to treat another person and even the earth
with anything less than utmost respect and dignity, 

Poverty is an opportunity though,
an opportunity to demonstrate satisfaction in God
despite a severe lack of material wealth.
To glorify God in the midst of suffering
in ways that I have much more difficulty to do in the midst of comfort. 
What an opportunity.

But I do not want your people to have a shallow walk with God.
I don't know them well enough, but in honesty Congo, this is what I think sometimes:
sometimes I think your people see God the way they see me - as a muzungu.
I think that many of your people see hope when they see me,
they see the possibility that their situation can be changed.
And of course this can feel pretty good, to be  hope to someone.
But they cannot set their hope in me, I am too limited.
My only brightness is from the light of God, and that is where there hope must be set.
Even yet though,  I see 'God-fearing people' all over the place,
I see it painted on car windows,
I see crosses around necks,
I see storefronts with the name of Jesus in their logo,
and amidst all these things I see,
 I cannot help but fear that sometimes God is just a muzungu here.
Not to all people, no, but to many.
I feel the hope of many is headed in the right direction,
but often it ends up resting in God the resource rather than in God our provider.
That is what I mean in my wondering if God is a muzungu to many of your people Congo.
Many people tell me that when they see someone like me, they see money.
I hope that when they think of God, they do not think merely of the possibility of possessions,
but rather that their hope lies in their eternal inheritance to come, 
 and their rest is in the present peace and joy that is available in midst of pain.
That their circumstances are recognizable as an opportunity to give glory to God
demonstrated by their utmost satisfaction in Him today.

Congo, I'll admit that I can get so distracted in being proud over what I own, what I've done,
or about bragging that I know someone who owns this, knows those people, or runs that business.
I get so bogged down with petty wealth on earth,
and all the while I am sitting on an eternal inheritance of riches
beyond any earthly comprehension which awaits for me when this life passes.
Maybe I don't believe in my inheritance as much as I say that I do.
I hope my disbelief can be helped though. 
Your people Congo, though they suffer now,
 if they truly, genuinely set their hope in God, also sit on such an inheritance.

Congo, I do not know the hearts of your people,
and I won't pretend that I understand you. 
I am only an observer and these are only my thoughts,
but I feel like I needed to share this with you.
Thank you for all that you've shown me about you and about myself.

 Sincerely, 

                               A Sojourner soon to drift

                           from your midst

--------------------------------------------------------

 

A Few Thoughts for Oncoming Days

August 22. The five day marker of the oncoming completion of this journey.
    I'll have to admit that as my time winds down I am having a lot of difficulty staying checked in and fully present here. Some days I honestly feel like I'm just drifting through a dream. But I know that when I do leave and I come to realization that I really was living in Bukavu of the DRC I will wish that I had been fully present at every moment. So that is my current battle, how to keep my mind engaged in the here and now.

   By the end of today I'll have finished testing all my students. Tomorrow I will mark their tests and begin to create certificates. Also over the final few days I'll be trying to visit friends throughout the city to say some final goodbyes. As well visiting some familiar spots to take a few final breaths there and be sure to properly etch memories of this place into my mind. So that when I look back and remember this place I will not remember the city as a place of desolation, poverty or corruption, but rather as a place where God was needed and where God was at work.

   Now as I try and stay engaged in these tasks, I do still want to be preparing myself for the next step. If there is something I have while here it is not an intentional life is no more important overseas than it is at home. I don't see why I should feel such a thrust to live with purpose here but at home it is alright to be a bit more comfortable. No no. The people at home are no less deserving and no less in need of someone to encourage, uplift, invest in and have the love of God made known to them, than the people here are. God doesn't love the people of Africa more than the people of Canada.


   So perhaps I shall move forward in these final days with a semi-detached mindset. Being both present here, but at the same time preparing myself for the mission to come. As I had prayed and prepped before heading to the Congo, so may I pray and prep before returning so that I will enter with the same mindset. The mindset that acknowledges I am heading into a land full of people needing love, full of earth and adventures and opportunities, full of forces obvious and discrete that would distract and pull people away from who they are really called to be.

   I've had the thought many times that perhaps the need for me to try and be intentional in Canada is actually more important than while I am on the "mission field". Its easier to be intentional here, and much harder when you're seated on a comfortable couch with cable TV. Not that comfort's a crime, but it can be a prison cell. I'm too guilty of too often locking myself in my house and just floating through time without any real direction or purpose. 'Just passing the time' I'd say. When all along its really time that's passing me by. While I sit at my computer or TV opportunities flow by me like river waters over a stubborn rock that refuses to move. It will never know all that the river could show it. I'm curious to see how rich life can be in Canada should I choose to live with the intentionality and spirit of adventure that I have lived with here. Will I see life in so many colors as I have seen it here? I now that my perspectives, attitudes and choices affect what colors I am able to see. They change my world so much, even if their effect on the world entire is small.  This is not about carpe diem. I often fool myself into think that living intentionally is about getting the most out of life, seeing the most beautiful sights, climbing the most beautiful heights, but that is not the best way.

 Living intentionally is not about getting the most out of life, 

it's about giving the most away in this life.

   
   
    

  

The City (II)

 

The 10...to...1 countdown begins. Though I'm trying not to count down the days.
Recent Events: I'm finished teaching classes now and will give my students a final test this coming week. I've seen off several friends from America and Norway now; greatly enjoyed getting to know people from around the world here.

Today I headed for a short visit to Goma where the adventures continue. I can't do a whole lot as far as seeing the volcano goes due to insecurity in the area, back in July it was under threat of invasion by the rebel M23 group.The threat has decreased now though and I'm thankful to be able to see it before I go. Though I've been here only 5 hours now, I can already see that it is a stark contrast to Bukavu.

I'll update more in the coming week. But for now here is the second lot of pics from around Bukavu.

The City (I)

Alright so my previous post was initially meant to be merely a short thought aimed at introducing some photos of the city. But I get a little carried away in my metaphorical musings I suppose.
So here now I had better stick to my original intentions and finally provide some
visual confirmation that I have been living in the city of Bukavu. 
This will be one of two or so posts with photos of people, daily life, the nature, cityscape...etc which has made up the place where I chosen to call home for these summer months of 2012.
Here be the first.

A new hotel being built up near the lake.

 Mantis. Took this photo while waiting for the gorilla crew that fateful Sunday morning. 

I had to take ten or more photos before one actually focused on the mantis

thus the fella was getting quite agitated with me being in his face,

hence his butt is sticking in the air.

 Every time I walk the path to or from Orchid Hotel this is my view. 

The outskirts of Bukavu. Communities of IDPs (Internally Displaced Peoples).

Fisherman...obviously. From the day of my canoe ride.

Artist starting a mural for a daycare or school I believe.

 Back alley. I'm told these dirt hills are deadly in the rainy season. Slip'n'slide.

 From La Rosche Hotel. One of my favorite places to plan lessons,

 I don't meet many people here though hence my increased time at Orchid Hotel.

 Sunrise over Bukavu and the Rusizi River.

 On the way to visiting a family mourning the loss of their baby.
The beauty and the pain.

 Soccer field and trash heap near my church. The heap serves as a reminder of the poverty in this city as I see people - adults, teens, children carrying babies - pulling scraps out of the trash.

Though the man you see on the heap was actually just reading a book, 

a strange place for such an activity I thought,

but to each his own.

Small kids, huge truck. 

In the morning, after visiting one of my best students who was hospitalized by malaria. 

He is well again now and back to attending classes.

 A Catholic church that I discovered only about a week ago despite walking quite nearby it almost every day. I guess I haven't walked with quite enough awareness of whats all around.

 

Houses being constructed. Everywhere. Anywhere.

 Some may take 20 years to build as people just buy materials whenever they have the money.

 A different life.