Forsaking All! A Little of What God is Doing in My Heart.

"Do you think I was comfortable when I did this for you?"

Luke 14:26- 33 “If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple. And whoever does not bear his cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple. For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it lest, after he has laid the foundation, and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish’? Or what king, going to make war against another king, does not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? Or else, while the other is still a great way off, he sends a delegation and asks conditions of peace. So likewise, whoever of you does not forsake all that he has cannot be My disciple.”

^{I closed my eyes in attempt to drowned out the voice that had been haunting my thoughts all day, but it seemed to only get louder. “Are you my disciple?” It all started the day before when I flipped open my Bible to Luke 14, before long I came to verse 33 and couldn't go on because a question was deposited in my head… “Have I forsaken all?” You might think, “Of course you have honey, you’re a missionary.” I’ll admit sometimes I feel as though I have given up very much…But have I really forsaken all? Things like my earnest hopes, my wildest dreams, my deepest desires, my every thought…Everything? “But my desires are good, probably even Godly!” I tell myself often but the bottom line is, they’re still mine. No, I know in my heart I have not forsaken all of them. The statement is so simple “If you have not forsaken everything you are not my disciple” and to be quite candid, I don’t like the sound of it}                                                                                                                

My excuses are failing me: Excuse #1  

^{I have always identified myself with “The older brother” in the story of the prodigal son. After all I have never “Ran” from God. I've never had one of those “Rebellious phases” of my life. I've lived a righteous life. Because of this false thinking, I always felt like duty was simply not to judge that little prodigal brother who thinks all these “Sins” are okay, when I don’t, and try not to be so “Righteous around them.” As if living a righteous life had anything to do with living a legalistic one. Because of this, I could excuse my simple, really quite pathetic sins which are CONSIDERABLY smaller than my brothers. But In The last few weeks as I have attempted to surrender every moment to Christ, I found in irony that I am actually the younger brother. By my refusal to obey I spit in my father’s face by saying I want MY LIFE, MY THOUGHTS, MY DREAMS, give them to me! I run from God and His ever present arms of love to indulge in my little sins and pleasures … Only I find them empty and degrading. So, tired and miserable I come back and there He is, waiting with open arms and long awaiting eyes.}

Excuse #2 There is this pathetic honesty that we excuse for obedience. I do prefer it when one of my students tell me flat out they don’t’ want to do something, or that they are angry at me, or that they don’t trust me…but I won’t accepted it as obedience. Honesty can become a way of procrastination...We congratulate ourselves for baring our hearts and stop there. I don’t mind saying “I have not surrendered everything to Christ.” because it sounds honest and humble but I cannot say without trembling hands and tears “I am not a disciple of Christ.” When now I am seeing they are inseparable. Oh, God save me!

^{I tell you all this because at present I am practicing at all to follow Christ.” Taking the practice moment by moment as each new situation arises. Surrendering whatever it is to Him and choosing to live in the Spirit. Choosing to trust Him with everything and then full heartedly plunging into obedience. As a result I have found it the most frustrating yet blissful month…Frustrating because I have failed and honestly choosing the right thing isn’t often what I want to do but when I do surrender and obey there is a deeper peace, heavenly and truly I am more happier than ever.}                                                                                                                 

^{I am curious what the reaction to this post will be…Maybe identification or maybe pure horror that I am a missionary. You might think “This simple thing of surrendering all she still hasn’t conquered?”…You may be thinking, "This isn’t anything new in the Christian life.” To that I can only say…I know. Only, I am happy that Christ has exposed more of me that I could give to Him. I love Him….I really love Him. I give because I love Him and the more I give the more I love. Sometimes I so full of love I think my fragile little heart could burst. “God show me more where I trust in my flesh, so that I might learn to live in Your Spirit. For in my flesh is only death but in Your Spirit there is life and peace.} 

To End the Curse- Part Two.

There was noise all around me and people coming and shaking my hand saying long sentences that I was trying to impossibly keep up with. I, as well as everyone around me was handed a stick and told “This is your spear.” Then we were handed a huge leaf and told “This is your shield.” I was taken to a small clearing, where we were separated into two groups with a ditch in between where a freshly slaughtered lamb and goat lay. I was trying to understand what was going on around me but  it was chaotic with all the noise, jumping, and voices. A man was trying to explain to me how the ritual worked, while a woman grabbed  my hand, I thought to greet me, but instead placed a handful of warm goat excrement, right from the stomach, into my hand. I looked at the woman who had a giant smile on her face, and simply uttered a “Wow… Thanks, just what I always wanted!” We lined up facing each other on both sides of the ravine, the group opposite me, uttered a war cry and together came charging toward us throwing their spears, shields and excrement, stopping right before the edge of the ravine. Then I was told it was our turn to utter a war cry and do likewise.  I had to be pushed and told repeatedly “Throw it, throw everything!” Before I finally threw all I hand in my arms toward the people on the other side (I kept thinking, really? What if I hit someone?). 

When it was finally over there was much shouts of victory and shaking of hands and people bursting out in dance. I sat there still looking at the lifeless lamb and goat in the middle of the ravine, which now was covered in pointy sticks, shields and excrement.

The idea was that both sides were to represent their ancestors, how they fought and were cruel to one another but now with this slain goat and lamb in-between it is finished…the curse is ended and now there is forgiveness and peace.

 God has displayed in creation, in pagan rituals of those who don’t even know Him illustrations of Himself. The word that kept ruminating in my heart the hike back home was “Forgiveness.” Everything we throw at each other really falls on our lamb or messiah our peace. All of our sins disgusting as excrement is laid on the slain lamb….On Jesus, Messiah. Therefore I have peace with God…as well as an obligation to forgive others. Those who have hurt me, well their repulsive acts are at the place as mine…in the ravine, yes, even at the cross.

Once again my dear friends, I went, with an attitude of envisioned sacrifice, intending to give, yet instead I come away, repented, bursting of grace and simply…Full.

Would you do me a favor? NO REALLY! I know you are tempted to skip over this, or tell yourself you will read it later(I do this all the time) but don’t! Read it NOW. Read some verses with me. Slowly…As Anne of Green Gables would put it “Drink it in Marilla!” Drink in the LOVE of God for us.

Isaiah 53:3

 He was despised and rejected by mankind,
   a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
   he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.

A man of Suffering:

 mak'ôb  mak'ôb  mak'ôbâh

mak-obe', mak-obe', mak-o-baw'

From H3510; anguish or (figuratively) affliction: - grief, pain, sorrow.

"Familiar with pain": ידע      yâda‛

yaw-dah'

A primitive root; to know (properly to ascertain by seeing); used in a great variety of senses, figuratively, literally, euphemistically and inferentially (including observation, care,recognition; and causatively instruction, designation, punishment, etc.): - acknowledge, acquaintance (-ted with), advise, answer, appoint, assuredly, be aware, [un-] awares, can [-not], certainly, for a certainty, comprehend, consider, X could they, cunning, declare, be diligent, (can, cause to) discern, discover, endued with, familiar friend, famous, feel, can have, be [ig-] norant, instruct, kinsfolk, kinsman, (cause to, let, make) know, (come to give, have, take) knowledge, have [knowledge], (be, make, make to be, make self) known, + be learned, + lie by man, mark, perceive, privy to, X prognosticator, regard, have respect, skilful, shew, can (man of) skill, be sure, of a surety, teach, (can) tell, understand, have [understanding], X will be, wist, wit, wot.

"Familiar with Pain": חלי

chŏlı̂y

khol-ee'

From H2470; malady, anxiety, calamity: - disease, grief, (is) sick (-ness).

" Like one from whom people hide theirfaces":

 pânı̂ym

paw-neem'

Plural (but always used as a singular) of an unused noun (פּנה pâneh, paw-neh'; from 6437); the face (as the part that turns); used in a great variety of applications (literally and figuratively); also (with prepositional prefix) as a preposition (before, etc.): -  + accept, a (be-) fore (-time), against, anger, X as (long as), at, + battle, + because (of), + beseech, countenance, edge, + employ, endure, + enquire, face, favour, fear of, for, forefront (-part), form (-er time, -ward), from, front, heaviness, X him (-self), + honourable, + impudent, + in, it, look [-eth] (-s), X me, + meet, X more than, mouth, of, off, (of) old (time), X on, open, + out of, over against, the partial, person, + please, presence, prospect, was purposed, by reason, of, + regard, right forth, + serve, X shewbread, sight, state, straight, + street, X thee, X them (-selves), through (+ -out), till, time (-s) past, (un-) to (-ward), + upon, upside (+ down), with (-in, + stand), X ye, X you.

Isaiah 53 verses 4-5

 ^"Surely he took up our pain
   and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
   stricken by him, and afflicted.
 But he was pierced for our transgressions,
   he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed." 

Surely He took up our pain: נסה    נשׂא

nâśâ'  nâsâh

naw-saw', naw-saw'

A primitive root; to lift, in a great variety of applications, literally and figuratively, absolutely and relatively: - accept, advance, arise, (able to, [armour], suffer to) bear (-er, up), bring (forth), burn, carry (away), cast, contain, desire, ease, exact, exalt (self), extol, fetch, forgive, furnish, further, give, go on, help, high, hold up, honourable (+ man), lade, lay, lift (self) up, lofty, marry, magnify, X needs, obtain, pardon, raise (up), receive, regard, respect, set (up), spare, stir up, + swear, take (away, up), X utterly, wear, yield.

But He was crushed for our iniquities: דּכא

dâkâ'

daw-kaw'

A primitive root (compare H1794) to crumble; transitively to bruise (literally or figuratively): - beat to pieces, break (in pieces), bruise, contrite, crush, destroy, humble, oppress, smite.

John 1:29

“The next day He saw Jesus coming toward him, and he said, “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!”

Exerts taken from E-sword. 

To End The Curse

To End The Curse-

The Chief had come and invited us (White people) to Namaneet a village about a six hours away. Almost my whole team was gone on break and we would need to start the journey the next day. I was feeling sick and had been for the past week so the notion of going on a six hour hike and spending the night on the ground did not seem wise or inviting. Yet, there was something in me that said “Go.” My stomach was upset, I groaned and I was tired as I asked the question I’ve asked millions of times in my life “God, what do you want me to do?” Opening my Bible I began to read. I was reading in the gospel of Luke about Jesus and thinking about the compassion of Christ. ”Jesus would go even if he was sick” I thought. So I packed up my backpack and set my alarm for 5:00 am and went to bed excited for the next morning.

The roosters had just began to crow as we headed out around 6:00 the next morning. The moment we started on the trail my stomach pain went away and didn’t return the entire trip. This was a beautiful gift to me and put my heart in great thankfulness.

Namaneet is considered the birthing place of Didinga. It was under a huge tree there that all people from Didinga would take their cases and be tried some condemned, killed and buried. There is a great fear of Namaneet because of all the people who have died there, they say there are ghosts there that will do you harm. In fact it was told us that right before we came a man was beat up by these invisible ghosts and that that a jerry can full of Marti (their homemade corn bear) was taken way up in the air and poured out unto the ground. I however saw none of this. No white person has been to Namaneet since the British left, so this was an honor. The occasion was one of creating peace. The Didinga people put many curses on the British when they were colonized and had much hate towards each other. One British man was even killed and skinned. They said that the curses had come back upon themselves. Their children violent, raiding and killing each other. They have drought and poverty. They wanted us to come and to make peace with them and to forgive the past and to end the curse and what better place than in Namaneet, the place of judgment.

When we finally arrived in Namaneet, we were welcomed with the beating of drums dancing all around us. We were crowded in with spears, shaking of hands and cow skin skirts, taken under a huge tree and given mats to sit on. At this point I admit I was so tiered I could hardly keep my eyes open. The meeting began and, as it was all in the Didinga language, I mostly tried to stay awake and smile at all the little children staring intently at us. The meeting lasted all through the night. At one point I crawled into the tent and slept, I could still hear the meeting as we were only a few feet away. At one point I woke up and counted Six Didinga women, me and a chicken squeezed into a tent all sleeping on our sides so that everyone would fit. I smiled as I had one of those “I can’t believe I am in Africa right now” moments. I woke in the morning only to hear the meeting was still continuing on. Chichila told me “You are needed for the ritual.” Ritual, what ritual? When you can’t speak the language and you have clue what’s going on around you and you live in an area that is highly syncretistic (mixing Animism with Christianity) My biggest fear is participating in witchcraft… but when you can’t ask questions with answers in English every moment is a step in prayer and faith. Having no clue what the next moment will bring. “They are slaughtering the goat and lamb, it’s time to join them” Chilchila said, I rose to follow her with my two teammates.

                                                           To be continued. 

 

My Team- Formal(ish) Introductions

My Team- Formal(ish) Introductions

Jonathan & Lauren.

Jonathan and Lauren are our team leaders and have been here for roughly two years. They both are the most humble and fun people ever. Jonathan’s primary role here is as a developer. He has been working on a road, which when accomplished will enable a truck to come up with equipment for wells which would meaning clean water for our community!  Lauren is an amazing full time mom to Adelaide and support to Jonathan as well as the rest of us.

Kim. Kim is what I call officially hard core. She has been here for three years and is probably the strongest woman I know, yet gentle and full of love for the people that surround her. She is one of the teachers and kind of in charge of the rest of us teachers here.

Trey.Trey is a full-fledged Texan and is a blast to be around. He’s been working hard with Jonathan on the road. He is a short termer and will be going back to Texas in June to finish law school.

Kaiti-. Kaiti is my roommate. We both live in a small little hut together and even though we are complete opposites we get along great! She’s from the city in Maryland , I’m from Montana. She is a vegetarian and I shot my first buck at thirteen. She has been working in the local clinic and is hoping to go back and get her nursing decree, which she would be wonderful at. She also is a short termer and will be leaving, sadly, at the end of this month.

Well, that's the team folks!

Pray for us as we seek to show Jesus to the Didinga people. 

Trey-Kim-Me-Katie :)

The Outrageous Love Of God!

The Outrageous Love Of God- A taste of What God is Doing in My Heart.

“Love.” For the past year the subject of "Love" has been weighing on my heart. It all started last year a few days before 2011, as I was driving to work, the Christian radio station was talking about taking one word/character of God and praying that God would give you a greater understanding throughout the year. I started to pray that I would “Understand God’s love for me.” (Yeah right!) It was in the middle of praying this one day that I realized, “I really don’t believe God does love me unconditionally!” Fear seized my heart as I thought, “Here I am going to be a missionary and I don’t truly believe God’s love or even how to show it properly. “I must know it” I felt with determination. I took a weekend off and went to Colorado my “goal” by the end of this retreat was to “experience the love of God and know its surety.” I am ashamed to admit that I did not simply believe Gods word and be satisfied with it. I wanted to FEEL loved by God. The first day of the retreat I prayed…and I felt nothing, the second night I prayed on my knees with more fervency and decided I would stay there in prayer until I felt the love of God. Hours past and I felt nothing except my legs which had lost circulation. The third day my heart went cold and I sat in the hotel looking at the ceiling. Finally I reached over to my Bible and started reading...the words told me He loved me…though I felt nothing. Finally I whispered, “If this is what you give me, it is enough, I believe.” I said, and went home.

God not answering my prayer that night in the hotel to “Feel loved” (though unforeseen) was a blessing. Since then He has been sewing this tapestry, going into the deepest parts of my being and convincing me of His not only perfect and un-ending love but His impossible to understand, outrageous love! . One day when I was in college I was in tears and desperately disappointed with myself, I confessed my feelings of God’s disappointment with me to my brother Seth I’ll never forget what he said to me “Abby, you know that God doesn’t love you any more or less then when you were a wretched sinner and didn’t want Him and He won’t love you any more or less when you serve Him in the future.” The truth of those words sing like a melody in my heart. He loves me and I don’t have to earn it. I heard it in Sunday school when I was about three but it’s easy to forget. I am vile girl, shameful, selfish and constantly failing but what is this? I am loved…I am furiously loved by Jesus…I still don’t understand it, I don’t always feel it and I definitely don’t deserve it but it’s there all the same.

If there is no fear in love then he who loves must be the most courageous of all…”God give me courage!”

Emmanuel- God With Me!

We Wish You A Merry Christmas- A Bit Late.

“This is where meat comes from.” Kim said, with a wirily smile, as she looked at my grimacing face. I was observing a Bull being held down by about ten men. Being aware of the fact that the bull was Christmas feast didn't make me have a desire to see it butchered by a machete. Soon the job was done and the cooking could begin. It was about three a ’clock in the afternoon on Christmas Eve and we had a bull to cook before the next day. Only a few hours later there were fires all around, big pots, and people from the village coming to help. I was told to grab my “Little guitar” followed by hand motions of playing the fiddle. (It’s become popular at the parties now) I took out my fiddle and played to my heart’s content. At about midnight the meat was cooked and people where starting to meander home. The next day was Christmas. YEAH! Didinga people do three things for Christmas. One, they re-mud their house. Two, they get new clothes and three, they eat meat. The third one we would do together.

Christmas morning started with the drums telling us to come to church for prayers. We all sang, greeted one another and commented on the new clothes, and then we all sat in circles and ate meat, talked and I played some more of my “Little guitar”. Worn out, I wandered back home to our little mud hut with full stomach, family on my mind, and Emmanuel in my heart. Merry Christmas...a little late. Thank you for your prayers.  
 Love,   Abby

                                                            

A Quick Note From Me!

Every morning I see a Didinga sunrise and little children come over willing to hear me as I utterly confuse them with my beginner Didinga. I love this place! I have so much to learn! There is so much I just don’t understand about the Didinga people. My team is perfect! Each one is different and already I feel like I have a family here, people to pray with, celebrate with and learn with. School starts in February, so I have only a short few months to learn as much Didinga as possible before I start teaching. Pray with me that I would be diligent to learn as well as have ears to hear how to pronounce things and a mind that remembers. J 

Weak, Weak Kiwagas!

The sun is setting in a beautiful mixture of color behind the clouds, I hear children laughing as I s walk down the foot path to Manuno’s house. I look down at my calloused hands and can’t help but smile. I remember the first day I took this little path to Manuno’s  house. I was going to stay with them for a week to get full immersion into the culture and language I had memorized“Hello” and “what’s that?” in Didiniga. The rest was going to be charades.

The first day we went to work in the fields and after about fifteen minutes Manuno pointed for me to go back and rest. Didinga people have this idea that Kiwagas (White people) are very weak and must rest often. I wanted to get a realistic view of their lives and I didn’t want to be treated like a guest. I lifted my arm and pointed to my muscles and said, “No I am strong, I am from Montana!” Though she doesn’t know a lick of English and wouldn’t know Montana, she smiled and said the equivalent to “Okay.” After hours of weeding in the hot sun I husked corn and then de-cobbed corn, then we put the corn in the sun to dry, then we put the corn into a semi hallow log, then with a long piece of wood raised high above my head I would pound the corn until it turn into flour…After thirty minutes my arms felt like jelly, pride alone was causing me to stand. ”Kadimi Mam” she said as she grabbed my hand and a few jugs …I was so thankful to get away from the poundy thing, I gladly grabbed one of the jugs and followed her. We went down the mountain to the creek, she filled them up then lifted the 40 pound jug on my head…at this point I knew my limitations, I was going to die. “Manuno, I cannot so this, I am weak! REALLY WEAK!” I said again in English, she got the picture…could have beenbecause I was literally falling over. She put the five gallon on my head as we trudged up the hill. By the end of that day my mud hut looked like a castle I slept hard only to wake up and do it all again. Everyday Manuno’s was a new adventure I never knew what the day would hold. I was able get a small view of what it looks like to be a Didinga woman living in Nagishot and more importantly I was able to make a long lasting friend…I am sure you will hear more about Manuno and her children and husband Romio.

Adventures in Thought- A Taste Of What God Is Doing In My Heart.

Living in Nagishot can be hard, no personal space, always wearing a dress, walking everywhere, doing laundry by hand, cooking from scratch, no refrigeration, bathing in a bucket, no one speaking English hence not talking much, filtering water after it’s been taken from a creek or the rain, living in a dark mud hut full of spiders while sleeping soundly to the mice playing around you, bedbugs(little vermin!) and sickness….okay I just told you all the challenging things about living here, there are a lot of good things too and some of them are the things listed above. In all this though, God had been teaching me about faithfulness. Being faithful through and in spite of it all. Passion can flee quickly when you are cold, tiered and miserable. God is calling me to be faithfully passionate to Him and His will. To be faithful, like He is faithful. To wake every morning and be self- motivated to learn Didinga, whether I feel like it or not. Pray for me as I strive to be passionately faithful to God and what He is calling me to do.

O Love that wilt not let me go, I rest my weary soul in Thee,

I give the back the life I owe, That in Thine ocean deps its flow may richer fuller be.

O Light that followest all my way, I yield my flickering torche to Thee,

My heart restores its borrowed ray, That in Thy sunshine's blaze its day may brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain, I cannot close my heart to Thee,

I trace the rainbow through the rain, and feel the promise is not vain, that morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head, I dare no ask to fly from Thee,

I lay in dust life's glory dead, and from the ground there blossoms red Life that shall endless be.