hope, revisited

After my last post, I took the opportunity to spend a few minutes in the "garden" with the boys.  We dug up some of the many things we don't want growing there, turned the dirt with some fertilizer (the one thing the bats are good for), and transplanted the tomato.  It was a stirring moment, like something out of Field of Dreams -- a man struggling to do something that no one else understands, yet which provides him hope and purpose for the moment yada yada yada....  But the kids got to see the usefulness of bat dung again, which is always cool for our boys.
Then I looked out later and didn't see anything there at all.  I asked the kids, and they disavowed knowledge.  Here is a pic I took the next morning:

No more than 12 hrs after planting it, our DOG, who is so hot she has no business living on the equator, sat on it. Rolled in the freshly dug up (and cool) earth, actually.  Which I'm sure was fun for her.  Ha ha.
But I had not even passed the second of the five stages of grief over my dead tomato plant of hope, when the children brought news of more volunteers on the compound.  That's the great thing about the equator.  Even though its so hot that dogs bred for elsewhere feel the urge to roll in your garden, stuff grows like crazy, like it or not.  Which has been good, given the time we've been able to set aside for gardening (i.e., none).
But with all these ups and downs, I guess that's why the scriptures say

hope

The Bible reading program I use recently took me out of Isaiah, into Jeremiah.  So as I've pondered our life here, and how hard it seems, I've had many messages of condemnation and difficulty to reflect on.  And I've wondered if things are just going to get harder and harder.  And they might.
But this morning the psalm was Psalm 86, which ends

   Show me a sign of your favor,
   that those who hate me may see and be put to shame
   because you, LORD, have helped me and comforted me. (v17 ESV)

Now I'm always weary of seeking signs, having too many examples in my so far short life already of how wrong people go by them, in addition to Jesus' own admonition.  But this caught my eye.  Then comes the selection from Jeremiah, which includes a letter to the exiles in Babylon:

"Thus says the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. (Jeremiah 29:4-7 ESV)

So anyway, I thought that an interesting juxtaposition.  What some might call coincidence.  Or maybe God is saying to us, like He said to the exiles, life is hard where I've put you, but settle down and make the best of it, because you're going to be there awhile.
And the crowning irony? This morning I found a volunteer tomato plant next to our house. Having had no time whatsoever to garden, this is an amazing Grace to me. Less than five minutes before reading these passages, which specifically mention gardening.  Perhaps God has a plan after all, and perhaps it really is Good.

Thailand is in America, right?

I went to buy sugar and flour at the market the other day, and had an interesting conversation with the shop owner.  He asked me where Thailand was, and I told him Asia.  No, I thought it was in America. Well, take a look at their script on the bag... But Viet Nam, that's in America, right? Um... I wasn't sure how much geography to get into, but I thought it was an interesting mistake.  He made another observation before I was able to get away:  But they are both much more developed than Congo, right? Hmm... not sure about that, but I didn't think so.  The thing is, these countries export there rice and sugar to Congo, and everyone here buys it over the local stuff. I think it is even cheaper than the local stuff (when you can get it), though its been shipped and trucked across an entire hemisphere to get here.  So they must be developed nations.  When I told him I wasn't sure, he asked when they could export all that food then, when people here can't/don't produce as much.  I'm sure that someone from the World Bank would have something to say, right or wrong, about this.  I just said that it was a good question, and that it was one for the Congolese, not me, to answer.  Anyway, maybe it's a question of relative poverty; I seem to recall DRC on a "bottom 10" list somewhere recently, in terms of GDP, or some such.  Then again, the guy we bought our car from (who now has a newer, bigger one) has a bustling business in fuel, gold, diamonds, cigarettes, and now cell phone service.  Not quite the "sin tax" guy, but close.  I don't think he sells alcohol.  But he seems to be doing OK.  So maybe the "buy foreign" campaign was too successful.  Or maybe there is a self image issue, where Chinese goods are cheap and don't last (their words, and a common opinion of the goods sold here), but they're better than the ones we make.  Sounds like we've all got our work cut out.

First Fruits

I like mangoes. really. Like I really like mangoes. I could have one with every meal. Or two.  So when we found that our compound had three mango trees, it wasn't just the kids who were excited.  And a month or so ago, when the first ones started getting ripe, and falling when you touched them, boy was that a happy time for me. For a bit.  See, while not really a big city person, I have lived in cities of 5+million more than on compounds with as much land as we have here.  Which means there's a lot about agriculture that I don't know. Like firstfruits.  I have seen this concept in scripture so many times, of the offering of the first of your produce.  And recently I saw this concept again in 2 Thessalonians:

But we ought always to give thanks to God for you, brothers beloved by the Lord, because God chose you as the firstfruits to be saved, through sanctification by the Spirit and belief in the truth. To this he called you through our gospel, so that you may obtain the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ. So then, brothers, stand firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by our spoken word or by our letter. (2:13-15 ESV)

I always thought of this as first, or perhaps also best, as in giving your best to God.  Don't sift through the produce of your fields for the stuff you don't want; give the first stuff you get.
But with mangoes (and perhaps with other firstfruits, I wouldn't know), there is good chunk of time between the firstfruits and the rest of the fruit.  Why, I don't know.  But We must have gotten some 8 mangoes of one of our trees, then nothing.  We had one ripe each day for a good solid week, then nothing.  Just a couple hundred slowly growing, without a one close to ready.  And I've looked around town, and all the mango are like this, at about the same stage of development. We are still probably another good week away from our next ripe mango.
So as I thought about the above verses applying to us, there seemed to be another interpretation, that Paul may well have intended.  The fruit that comes before the rest (particularly if it comes some time ahead, like these mangoes) is something of a pioneer class.  So if God chose some to be the firstfruits of salvation in an area, they are not just first/best or whatever, but it is probably also intrinsically harder for them.  Which makes sense in the context of the pioneer expansion of the church.
This last week, we were considering the fact that (I think this is true) we have the only white kids in town.  There is another expat family with two children, but they're back in the states for awhile.  Lots of single expats, a few couples married with grown kids, or none yet.  But there are lots on the way, we hear. Which makes us a kind of pioneer, as well.  This area has a long history of missionary activity, with one mission having had some 67 families.  Now there are NGO workers galore, but few missionaries. And UN workers come single, or without their families. As things settle down and become more peaceful, we expect there to be more and more expat families, but in the mean time we get to get along without much interaction in the context of our own language and culture.  Not impossible, by any means, but not the easiest, either. So we'll get together and sing hymns and watch movies with people we can speak English freely with, but also share our beignets with the kids across the street.  On our morning walks we practice our greetings (which no one seems to mind) and get to know the town, and how to find home.  And get stared at by the kids that think eyeballing us is more interesting than walking to school. Oh, well. 
I guess I just needed the reminder that maybe this is supposed to be hard, but worth it.  We look forward to the day when we are established and surrounded by many colleagues, both pat and expat, and getting some good work done. One day those hundreds of mangoes are all going to ripen, and I want to be there. :-)