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. :-)

the test

^{I've been trying to make sense of some stuff we've been going through, and I think I've got something.  Not particularly happy, but somewhat settling, anyway.
At group conference in July, the theme was "Strength through Weakness," or something like that. The speaker talked on several passages in 2 Corinthians, which I found very encouraging. One day included the following verses:
24}Five times I received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one. ²⁵Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I was adrift at sea; ²⁶on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers; ²⁷ in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food,^[a] in cold and exposure. ²⁸And, apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches. ²⁹ Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is made to fall, and I am not indignant? (2 Corinthians 11:24-28)
Ironically, this was the same day we were to give our testimonies, and I had chosen these verses to describe our life since our last conference, some three years earlier.  I should mention (as I did then) the caveat that (as the speaker said) our struggles were not to be compared with those of Paul -- we have never been actually lashed or beaten with rods, for instance.  But what strikes me about these verses is the manifold nature of the suffering. Paul encountered danger from all sorts of angles: from men (Jews and Gentiles, and people who don't care, but just want your money); nature (city/wilderness/sea); physiology (unmet needs for sleep, food, drink and covering); and psychology (anxiety for the churches).  While we have not suffered the same events, I've found the number of different angles we get hit from to be exhausting.
While undergoing burnout therapy during furlough, we were counseled to try to limit our move to the field to as little as two weeks, if possible.  This is because of our long history of moving (some 13 moves in our first four years of marriage?), which has been very stressful for us. But manageable, assuming most other things are under control. We are now in our sixth month in Congo, after some six weeks in Nairobi, and we're still putting up the ceiling on our house.  We've been in this house some four months, one of which I was off doing an alphabet seminar, and another of which was taken up by an overland trip to conference in Kenya.  We've done a lot to the house so far, with now fairly reliable water and electricity, a dining room table and chairs, a few desks, and a living room couch. But we still feel the need to seal the rest of the ceilings and get a few bookshelves and some kitchen counters (and a bit of tile on the cement in the kitchen and bathroom would be nice, and Kim would add to this list. ː-)) We go to sleep at night often exhausted (emotionally and/or physically), asking when it will end.
We came back from our first term on 70% of our support quota, which meant we were cutting meat and cheese from our diets, and looking for other things to cut. Which is, again, manageable, assuming most other things are under control (this was when we were still trying to figure out why our four year old was having loose stools and wetting all the time). This also came up in our burnout processing, where I realized that this was more stressful than I had realized at the time, and we renewed our commitment to raise 100% of the funds needed for our work and life. So after we got our burnout more or less under control, we got to talk with our partnership about finances.  God provided amazingly, through small and larger sources, and we got up to 100% (of our new quota, which was larger for our new location) before a delayed return to the field.  This was during the economic trials everyone was going through in 2008/9, so we thought that would be fairly stable.  Then there was apparently another wave of economic trouble, as several people have stopped giving. Last month, when we were expecting annual gifts to cover debts, we received 60% (our lowest in over 12 months).
Neither our house nor our finances would be as stressful alone as they are together. If we had more money, I would hire more people to help, and just order and pay for bookshelves, etc. and get it done. On the other hand, if the house were set up, I would have more time to get stuff done (the stuff we were sent here to do, not the house setup stuff I'm doing now) and write to people back home about it, and they might get more excited about supporting us.
Speaking of what we were sent here to do, we completed alphabets and charts for three languages in June, and I have yet to finish writing up that work.  There is at least one interesting paper to write in what we did, in addition to processing what went well, and what didn't, for the next workshop.  There is also the follow-up.  There was a guy who was interested in coming by to work on a dictionary in his language, which I would love to have him do, but there are some legal and logistical hurdles to get over first, and I haven't finished those.  It would also be nice to catch up with the guys who were at the workshop (some of whom are in Bunia) to see what they've done with the Alphabet charts we gave them, and to encourage them. And that's where I hear Paul writing "the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches."  and I'm not yet to thinking much about the work we're planning for FY2009-10. I want so bad to see this work done.  I hate so much that I'm a barrier to seeing it done, and that our needs as a family are a part of what's keeping some things from moving forward. So it's not just living with bat dung falling on you, or not having as much money as you'd like to fix it, but knowing that the time you're wasting in this transition period could be used for other things.
Anyway, not as impressive as "shipwrecked and beaten," but those are our big three right now, as they have been for some time.
Enough with the sob story.  Yesterday we read 2 Corinthians 13:5,
Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves. Or do you not realize this about yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you?—unless indeed you fail to meet the test! (ESV)
I've seen this verse many times before, but never connected the test so closely with the presence of Christ in the believer. At least, it is clear to me now that the necessary and sufficient condition for passing the test is having Christ in us.  That is, the test is passed if and only if Christ is in you.  So what is the test? Paul had talked earlier about persistent suffering as a mark of the ministry:
 ⁷But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. ⁸We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; ⁹persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; ¹⁰ always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. ¹¹For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. (2 Corinthians 4:7-11 ESV)
And as I read this, I am so puzzled (and sometimes angry!) that God would leave his servants at the brink of death, but not let them die.  I have so often felt so close to cracking, yet somehow never do.  We have often relied on the verses in chapter 1:
For we do not want you to be ignorant, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. 9Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. 10 He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again. 11 You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many. (2 Corinthians 1:8-11 ESV)
The theme of continued peril, while escaping death, seems recurrent.  And these two verses shed some light on why. We have for some time insisted that peril makes us rely on God, and depend on the prayers of others, as in these last verses from chapter 1. But what of chapters 4 and 13? "We who live are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh."  So perhaps it is not just to make us rely on Christ, but to show the life of Christ in us.  Is this the test?  Is God showing us, by persistent, manifold suffering, that Christ is in us -- proven by the fact that, though we feel like giving up, we haven't?  I'm not sure what forces kept us going until the end our our last term, but this makes a lot more sense than our bootstraps. How many times have I said, I would die right now, if Christ were not compelling me on (ch 5:13-15)? I have long said that God uses suffering to prepare us for worse trials later, and several times I have stopped and said, "If this is what we're going through now, what is God preparing us for?!?!" But it is somehow strangely comforting to look back at all those times we bent but didn't break when God took us through hard stuff before. As John Piper wrote:
Why does God allow this? No, that is not quite the right question. We have to ask, Why does God appoint this? These things are a part of God's plan for his people just as the suffering and death of Jesus were part of God's plan for salvation (Isa. 53:10, Acts 4:27-28) (Let the Nations Be Glad, ed 2003 p 84)
Reading through his "Six Reasons God Appoints Suffering for His Servants" again is humbling. I won't quote them all here (though they're well worth the read), except for the first sentence of point six: "The suffering of missionaries is meant by God to magnify the power and sufficiency of Christ." The chapter on suffering ends "God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him.  And the supremacy of that glory shines most brightly when the satisfaction that we have in him endures in spite of suffering and pain in the mission of love."  Wow.  May that be said of me.

The Power to Blog

Last Friday we were out of power all day. Normally it comes and goes throughout the day, so this was a bit abnormal.
But it came back on during the evening, which is not abnormal, as there is less usage then, giving us better service (I presume this is why, anyway).
But then Saturday we didn't have any power either, so we ran on inverter, powered by the batteries.  The batteries are normally charged by a couple of chargers that can take 90-260V, so whatever the city sends us, they are generally charging, if there is anything at all.  So when the power cuts, we switch to the inverter, and run on batteries until it comes back, at which point the batteries recharge.  This system has worked well for most of our time here.  In fact, it has worked so well, that we leave the inverter on overnight, so we don't have to switch to it in case of a power out during the night -- leaving our security lights always on, even as we sleep through power cuts.
But Saturday night, the power didn't come back.  Sunday morning I talked to a neighbor, who said it was a problem with a substation.  If this was the case, I didn't expect anything fixed until Monday at the earliest, so we prepared for an evening without lights or music. Monday we had high hopes that it would be fixed, but as the day wore on, we saw no change. Meanwhile, I went to the university to figure out some last minute immigration paperwork, and scheduled a trip to town hall for the next day.
I think it was about Tuesday that we started talking about getting a generator, though we remained hopeful that power would come back any minute (it has sooo many times before!)  Somewhere around here we noticed ways that we just weren't getting as much done as we should, and that waiting on the city was not a feasible option in the long term.  I went to the town hall, where we needed a certificate of residence, and another certificate of good conduct, for each passport, 10 documents in all. He said that was $15 ea., or $150 together. He was going to draw up the papers based on the information I gave him, and I could pay and pick them up at 9am the next morning.   Afterwards, I visited the rector of the university, who told me that he got one of these documents for his wife for $2.
Wednesday we got most of the paperwork for our visas done, but got stalled on the visit to town hall.  I arrived at 9:10am, and found the guy starting the paperwork that I was going to pick up at 9am. He said that I should come back the next day, since his boss wasn't around much to sign the forms today anyway.  No, I said, you were going to give me the forms this morning, because I need to hand them in today at noon. They are leaving for Kinshasa early tomorrow morning.  OK, he says, I'll fill everything out, and then go find him and ask him to sign them there.  Fine.  Now this is where Justice Boy can't keep his mouth shut. So, I says, I hear these documents only cost $2. I short skirmish ensues, including the production of a piece of paper that shows that the price for these documents is ... $2.  But we charge foreigners $15, trust me. hmm...  Then he says something that amounts to, if you don't accept what I'm offering, come back tomorrow (which I've already told him is too late for us) and talk to my boss.  Wait, I say, let's fill out the paperwork, then talk to your boss, and whatever is right, I will pay, but today.  No, we shouldn't do anything until we can agree. At which point I realize I should not be speaking, and take my leave.
I talked to the university rector, who said he would go see the guys at city hall that afternoon.  He knew where the boss was that afternoon, and he had some clout with him. So I let that go, and finished off the rest of the paperwork and photocopying (via camera and printer) that we needed to send with them to Kinshasa.
Thursday morning, with still no power, we decided we needed to get a generator the same day, whatever it took. I called a pilot friend, who has a bit more experience in these things, but he wasn't available until later.  So I started on the wiring (so we could plug the generator in and not, say, blow up the house by having the city power come back on at the same time.  On a trip to the university to clarify a couple last immigration details before they left Bunia, I got called to go back to the town hall. Apparently they needed the money.  When I got there, after much discussion, I found out that I didn't really need to be there, though I imagine it was good to be forced to see this particular bureaucrat again. The short version is that the rector was persuaded that $15/doc was the right price, but he got them to come down to $10.  How that works, I'll never know.  If it really is the state mandated fee, how can you negotiate it down 30%?!?  Anyway, I was practicing letting someone else have control, so maybe that was good for me, too. Coming home, we still didn't have power, so I went out to check out generator options.  Apparently there is an "Astra Korea" for about $200, which puts out 3kW.  Turns out it's made in China. Huh.  There is also an "Astra Koera" with about the same specs and pricing (and color scheme).  Usually misspellings indicate a pirating, or an attempt to borrow off the name without actually pirating the (whole) name.  Like Mike shoes, or a Somy radio... So who is pirating the Chinese here?  In Bunia, Chinese products are usually the standard for what isn't quality. Go figure. Maybe they thought they were copying a Korean name, as at least one salesman told me it was made in Korea (though 3 min online says otherwise). I know I'm coming back with with the pilot later, so I leave with the information, and figure out what else I need in wiring land (two phases coming into the house, two stabilizers between them and the house, an inverter that needs to go through one of those stabilizers (to get 110V), and now we throw in a generator, which will do everything the two phases from the city do, but never enter the house at the same time).  He ended up finishing his day and coming by after dark, so we talked and made plans for the next day.
Friday I finished wiring, bought a switch and the generator (ended up going with the Astra Korea for $185), and found out that we need to run it without a load for four hours, since it is new.  Just like a car, as if I've ever had a new car... So I get it home, put it in place, add oil, and start it up at 12:30.  While it's running, we shut it off for an hour to do some video with a couple guys who have come to document the Bible Translation work in eastern DRC. So at 5:30pm, its ready to turn on, and I go to my office to turn the breakers all off (to make sure that things are working well before putting the full load of the house on it), and find that the city power has just come back.

Epilogue
We we've had great power the last two and a half days (for Bunia, that is -- always on and off, but enough to keep the batteries charged), and this morning I tested out the generator to make sure everything was working well, and that it could handle the load of the whole house OK.  Everything went fine.  It kicked off the low voltage switch the first time I switched it over, so the power on surge caused more of a voltage drop than we'd like (meaning it isn't as strong as our 2kW inverter), but it worked the second time just fine.  Anyway, next time the electric company of Bunia decides we an our neighbors don't need power for a week, we're ready.

Wesay -- A Cool Dictionary Tool

I found this short video on the WeSay website. I think it speaks for itself.