Why We Are Here vs Why Are We Here?!?!

A few weeks ago we were at a friend's house for lunch and I was helping prepare the food.  My friend hurriedly asked me to come cut vegetables.  It was odd that she seemed rushed but I happily agreed, thrilled that I was allowed to help and no longer viewed as a guest.  But as I began to chop I watched her pull out her prayer rug and line up behind the men, realizing why she was in a hurry.  My heart sank as my precious friend followed the ritual.  She is not a number among the lost, she is my friend who I'm sharing life with.  She is the mother of some sweet kids who fill my house with laughter.  She is a faithful wife and she doesn't know Jesus as her Lord and Savior.  I fought back tears as I prayed and begged God to reveal Himself to her and her family.  This is why we are here I thought.  For the thousands of family's in this city just like this one who have never heard.

Not long ago I found myself at another family's home.  The final call to prayer had gone off and after a day of fasting everyone began to eat and drink.  The spread of food was amazing!  I got my kiddos settled at the table and sat with them while my man sat with the men.  One of my kids sat at the table crying and was refusing to eat.  I still don't know what caused the meltdown except that despite having a late snack we were eating dinner several hours later than usual.  Another kiddo had already eaten an entire plate of food and was whining for more of everything before I even sat down and the baby decided it was time for her to eat too.

I took the crying big kid to the bathroom and had a little chat with her.  The host family was making a huge fuss over her and it was really only making the situation worse.  She couldn't tell me why she was so upset but calmed down a bit.  Then I took the crying baby to the other room to nurse her.  This triggered all my kids to get up from the table and follow me.  I was on the verge of a meltdown!   I can't even eat with the family because my kids are out of control! I can't even use all the language I've been practicing to tell them stories from the Word.  Why are we even here?!??!

I battle the two situations above almost daily.   In one moment it is so crystal clear why we are here and we are so confident in our call.  The next we look around at our struggle to make it through the day and wonder if it is all pointless.  Will there ever be fruit?

Pray for us to be faithful even when it seems that all is lost.  We trust the Father is working things for the good.

Dear Treasure…I mean Heart

Dear Treasure Heart,

You've been with me through it all.  And often I have foolishly followed you. But you are deceitful (Jer 17:9) while disguised in "wisdom" and "the right thing".  The enemy knows what hurts you, where your strings are that when pulled make me ache so much I don't feel like I can stand.  The worse part is he knows what makes you lead me to question the One I actually follow.

The world advertises that I should follow you, that you are true.  But the Word of Truth says whoever trusts you is a fool (Prov 28:26).

When my children are sick and I question medical care or have had a bad day solely because of cultural differences you ache.  You whisper in my ear the promises of an "easier" life for them on the other side of the Atlantic.  The enemy whispers to you the same lie he told in the garden, "Did the Father really say...."

When I am up feeding my baby at 2am and there is literally no where in our house to go that is comfortable to sit you remind me of the comfy glider that waits for me tucked in a basement.

When she is crying and crying and there is no where in our house to go that won't disturb the others sleeping you flash pictures of the beautiful home we built in the suburbs that provided such space.

When I spend 30 minutes preparing the lettuce to eat so that we won't be sick you long for the pre-package, pre-washed, pre cut up pieces that I can dump into a bowl and eat.

The things of this world make you long for the easier and more comfortable way.  But the gate is narrow and the road is difficult that leads to life (Matthew 7:14).

I want life.  I want to be obedient.  I want my children to see our life as following the Father by doing what the Word commands not what you, oh heart, long for.

So dear heart, you will not find what you are aching for unless you long for what the Father desires.  My treasure will not be in the things of the world but in the things to come.

Luke 12:34 "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."

Feeling Pummeled From Being So Constantly Humbled

Sigh.  That's about all I can exert at this point.  Sigh.

Folks, I really don't think I'm all that great but I don't think I'm a complete idiot either.  So day after day of being looked at, spoken to, and treated like one is making me feel a little pummeled.

When I speak in my new language I sound like a 2 year old.  Since I happen to have a 2 year old I know exactly how one sounds.  I say things like, "I go store buy book yesterday." Those stinkin prepositions that I can't keep in my brain! Not only do I not use the proper tense, the words that are correct are difficult for others to understand.  Most of the time I know what my 2 year old is saying because I understand the context.  When other people come in my home they only get about half of what he says.  Enter me speaking my new language…..people get about half of what I say.

Back in the good ole US of A I had a full ride to college, a bachelor's degree and a professional job helping save people's lives.  Lots of people have way more impressive credentials than that but I give you a little background to appreciate how humbling it is for the pediatrician here to think I know nothing about basic medical information.  Granted I couldn't communicate to him that I actually did know what he was talking about.  And what he assumed I didn't know required no medical degree…just some good old common sense.  I'm arguing with a doctor about common sense in a two year old's vocabulary.

Sigh.

My language teacher seems to suspect that since I don't know what something is called in arabic it means I all together don't know what that item/object is.  So she spent several minutes teaching me what a peel is.  "You know like on an apple or a banana.  You take it off before you eat it.  Usually you use a peeler for an apple."  Through gritted teeth I explained to her that yes, in fact, I do know what a peel is.  What I don't know is how to say it in arabic.  For the love!

Sigh.

And most people here also assume I have no idea how to parent my children and are willing to let me know what a terrible job I am doing.  "It's too cold for the baby"  Um it's 75 and sunny, I'd have my bathing suit on if it wasn't so completely inappropriate. "Your children should not walk around barefoot." We're from the country….period.  "They really should be learning French."  Yeah I'd actually like them to read and write well in English on top of the Arabic they are learning….thanks.

Sigh.

But what amazes me the most is that I am struggling with going from a respected professional who could speak in full proper sentences to well the above.  However, our Savior went from being in the form of God to the form of a servant as a human and humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross (Phil 2:6-8 paraphrased, emphasis mine).  And I'm whining about not being able to carry on a conversation and a physician thinking I don't know what vaccines are?!?!

Because of what Christ has done verses 9-11 go on to say some of the greatest words ever written, "Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow in heaven and on earth and under the earth and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, the glory of God the Father."

Oh, Father!  Continue to humble me if it means that many here will confess Jesus Christ as Lord!

When A Man Loves A Woman (sing it!)

My man spent a day at language learning names of furniture and how much it should cost so he could go furniture shopping.  He then went with his friend to the market and looked and looked and talked and talked and negotiated and negotiated to buy and have delivered some dressers that I so desperately wanted.  Because friends if I'm going to lose my mind it will not be over the ten minutes I spent each morning trying to open and close the top drawer of my toddler size dresser.

When we put our new dresser in our room and I could see myself in the mirror while standing, my heart began to sing!  Before I was bending over to see myself to put on my makeup….it was not very comfortable.

Getting that furniture was a lot of work for him.  I think he loves me :)

I got to thinking how he showed his love for me by sacrificing language time and his day to get me some things that we didn't necessarily "need" but would make my life a lot easier.  (I sort of think that there is potential the motivation came from him preferring me on the sane side and not crying over dresser drawers that won't ever open.  But I'm going with the love motivation ;)

Then I was thinking back to when we were newlyweds and how showing our love for each other was relatively easy.  It didn't require a lot of work or sacrifice.  Fast forward 8 years and 4 kids later….our life is kind of messy.  Acts of love toward each other often require sacrifice and intentionality.  While our life now isn't as "romantic" or "spontaneous" as it was 8 years ago, it's so much better!

Because this kind of love reflects that of the Father.  He loved the world so much He gave up His Son. The Son loved His bride so much He gave His life.  It was not romantic or pretty.  It was really messy.  But it's a sacrificial love that changes lives….changes eternity.

I'm so honored that my man's love day in and day out reflects the same love to his bride.  I'm confident that the strangeness of it will open doors to change lives for eternity.

A Day in the Life

Sometimes when I say "Life here is just hard" I don't think I quite express the depth of exhaustion each day causes.  So I thought I'd walk you fine folks through a couple happenings this week to try and explain what I mean.

Getting a haircut:

First I got ready.  Sounds easy enough?  Before I go out I double check my outfit and make sure it's modest and that picking up one of my kids or bending down or any other move that I frequently do will not make me appear immodest.  I go over the phrases in arabic I might need to use.  In this case, I practiced the area of town I needed to ask for when I got a taxi, how to tell the hairdresser what I wanted, and random small talk questions I could ask her while I got my haircut.  I get my money organized.  Coins for the taxi in one place, a small amount I expected to pay for the haircut, and a larger  amount hidden.  (It's never good for an expat to just open up a wallet full of dough…not that I ever have very much.)

Then I catch a taxi.  I walked down our dirt road and made a few turns before getting to the side road that is paved.  I cover my little one's head with a small blanket to protect her from the sand/dust flying everywhere.  I walk quickly with my head straight forward past the men doing construction.  The older lady passing towards me greets me and stops me to admire my little offspring.  We chat for a few minutes then move on.  As I go past the little "restaurant" we sometimes go to I walk really fast and look behind me for a taxi.  This sweet lady will chase me down and drag me in and feed me something.  While it's nice, I needed to get a haircut and it gets old when it's every. single. time.  There is a group of men standing on my side of the road so I cross over to the opposite side so as to not have to walk directly in front of them.  It's tiresome having to be so aware of everything/everyone around me.  I keep walking and get to the actual main road.   No need for Julian videos, I just put in over 1/2 a mile carrying a kid.  I see a taxi at the light! Wahoo! I run across traffic and yell at him to see if he's working.  He is and unlocks the door while the light is still red.  Then we play what I call the repeat game.  I say where I want to go, he repeats it.  I say yes and say again where I want to go.  He shakes his head in understanding repeats it again and looks at me.  I just say yes again.  He turns on his meter and we go.

The haircut.  I talk to the women and with help from a friend tell her what I want.  She spends a good amount of time chastising me for not having my baby more wrapped up, it's too cold to have a baby out.  (I have her in 2 shirts, pants, socks, hat and wrapped around me in a carrier and it's 70 degrees, she and I are both sweating).  The other moms I've seen out have their baby in a snow suit so I guess comparatively my baby is "cold".  The haircut and socialization takes about 2 hours.  And by socialization, I mean me trying to speak arabic and making a fool of myself.  I know that I am because they laugh after every thing I say.

Repeat catching a taxi home.

In the end I had a lot of fun, got a decent haircut and made some new friends.  Totally worth the drama of getting ready and catching a taxi.

Buying a desk:

Repeat the above getting ready and catching a taxi.  Except this time I had my 5 year old who yells for and hails the taxis for me.  She's awesome at it.

We get to the store that has the desk I want…..it's closed….on a Saturday afternoon….of course it is.  So I have the taxi drive a little farther to this little pottery stand I've noticed and been wanting to go to.  We get out and look around the little stand.  They have some pretty things for really cheap.  I get a couple cool items for my kitchen and we start walking back to catch a taxi.  There are none to be found so we keep walking and stopping in little stands as we please.  I found a place to get copies and fabric.  We kept on walking.  Little 5 year old legs were getting tired and my arms were numb from the very beautiful but definitely heavy pottery I'd just purchased.  So we have a seat on the side of the road and take a break.  Some girls walk by us and look scared.  It's easy to identify those who have never seen a white person up close and personal before.  Sometimes I like to try to talk to them in arabic just to freak them out more.  I have to have a little fun :)

After a few minutes of not getting a taxi we start walking again.  We stop in a "school supply shop" and I buy some practice books for writing arabic.  The kindergarten books were too difficult and I had to ask for the preschool kind.  She thought they were for my kids…..sure they are.  We start walking again and have put in about 2 miles by this point and are only 3/4 mile or so from home.  Finally a taxi comes our way!!  YAY!  My 5 year old successfully catches it and we practically fall inside we are so tired.

We get home after being gone a couple hours and my man says, "Wow, you've been gone  a while I guess it was a success?"  Um by success do you mean I bought some pottery, found  a place to get copies and fabric and bought a book to practice language and got in a work out??  Yes it was a success.  Did I buy a desk?  No.

That is a small glimpse into my day to day life.  I hope you enjoyed it :)  

You've Got One Shot

A couple years ago I was talking to a mom and she commented, "I mean we've got one shot with our kids."  This mom had more kids than me at the time and has been a mom a little bit longer so my ears perked up and I focused on what she was saying.  She continued, "I mean we've got one shot at them doing little league and ballet and having the kind of childhood we want them to have."  My heart sank and I tried to force my face into something amiable.  My man usually gives me a look if my face is expressing something rude.  She continued with something about our kids only being kids for so long but I tuned out and my brain went into overdrive.  What does that mean for what I'm doing??  She knew we were planning on moving overseas.  I'm moving their childhood far away and taking away all the "American Dream Childhood" of baseball and 4th of July away from them.  We of course considered our kids a ton in our decision to move overseas.  Our location choice was covered in prayer about going to a place where our whole family would thrive.

Now we're here, on the other side of the world, raising our crew.  The things we knew we would miss are a reality.  Figuring out school and friends and fun are all new and very very different than how my kids would be doing things in the states.  But none of the things that really matter in seeing our hopes and dreams for our kids are missing.  In fact, we are seeing that it's quite the opposite.

What we hope and dream and pray over our children is that they grow to love and follow Jesus.  We want them to be disciples that make disciples who make disciples.  We want Proverbs 22:6 to be true for them, that when they are old they will not depart from the way they should go.  We want them to make Jesus' command in Matthew 28 to go to the nations and make disciples their lifeline.

While we love baseball (one of my man's life goals is to visit every major league baseball stadium in the states), ballet (all dancing really, we frequently have a dance party to "Move it, Move it" after dinner), apple pie, and all those American pastimes, we don't need them to succeed at our "one shot".  Our kids are learning first hand that not everyone knows that "Jesus loves me".  At their precious young ages they are learning not only how to pray for the nations but how to live among other peoples and tell them that Jesus does loves them and came to rescue them.

There have been and will be some long hard days that come with living cross culturally, but we anxiously look forward to seeing the reward of seeing our little disciples being apart of their friends hearing the name of Jesus for the first time.  In fact, in this city our kiddos telling them might be their friend's one shot at hearing the truth of the gospel.  

A Broom, A Plumber & A Moped

Our house is a work in progress to make it functional and livable.  One of the handymen who practically lived with us for a few weeks happened to be a very conservative Muslim.  He did a great job fixing some problems we had around the house.

One day he was in our front outdoor area (I don't know what to call it?  It's all tile so I can't call it a yard..) working and my man was sweeping the never ending sand off our porch that the wind had so kindly blown on my clean clothes hanging out on the line.  Sand plus wet clothes equals one sad mama.    So my loving, servant hearted husband was helping me out with the never ending problem.  I was just inside doing school work with our girls and trying to stay out of sight but I could hear them talking.  About 10 seconds after my man picked up the broom the talking got louder and faster.  My limited arabic couldn't keep up.  The gist of the conversation was that my man should not be doing that….it's the wife's job and I'm pretty sure he suggested my man get a second wife to pick up my slack.  My man began to share with him what the Word says not just about a husband loving his wife but about God's love.  One of my girls asked what Daddy was doing and the other responded, "Telling that man about Jesus."

Later that day we needed a part we didn't have and our handyman offered a ride…on his moped.  So my man rode off on a tiny moped through the busy traffic with the handyman.  My instructions before he left were, "to please come back alive."  After they got the part the handyman took my man to get a coffee at one of the men's only cafes.  He extended the wonderful hospitality we love about this part of the world and opened a door to share more.  (Side note: I'll probably never get used to there being coffee shops I'm not allowed to enter because I'm female.)

While the language barrier was obvious, the example of my man loving and serving his family was evident without words.  This is a stark contrast to what the culture expects and sees every day.   Who knew a broom and everyday task would allow an opportunity to share truth?!  Pray for our handyman and many more opportunities to share truth!