Whose Story?

I'm sitting here at my great aunt and uncle's in Maryland, up far too late for as much as I've been yawning.

A month ago I was on another continent.  I've been in seven different states since then.  (More about the trip when I get back next week.)  Seven.  It makes my head spin a little.

In each new place, there were new people, and each new person I'd meet seemed to ask the same question, "So, what are you doing now that you're back from Africa?"

I can't fault them for asking.  It's a perfectly logical question.

It's also a question I've really been struggling with at this point, one that makes my mind want to go in about a million and one different directions at once -

The past.
The future.
The topsy-turvy present.
Guilt about being back in the States when there are so many needs overseas.
Wondering if I did the right thing in coming back.
Wondering whether there's a ministry that would be a good fit for me with NTM in the States...and whether I'll ever feel like I fully "belong" here - or any other place - again.
Fretting over the next steps, support level, a possible move (again!), and what I might be doing in two or three years.
Worrying what people will say or think about this whole thing...

Like, there was this church that wanted me to come give a report sometime after I got back.  And I'm thinking, What in the world am I going to talk about?!!  People expect missionary reports to be either a) stories of all the great things the missionary has done or b) the great things the missionary plans to do.

I haven't done great things in Africa.

And, for the immediate future, it doesn't look like I will be doing any great things in Africa.

My story feels so uninteresting, so unremarkable, so perilously close to...well...a failure.

I guess it would be, if it was supposed to be my story.  You know, the kind that would get written in a nice collection of missionary stories for children.

But it's not.

It's actually God's.

I know.  How many times have I said that?  It's God's story and He's the Hero.

I read through the Bible and I know it's never about Moses or Joshua or Daniel or Paul.  I know they're not the heroes.  But when it comes to my own life?  Sure, I know I'm somehow part of God's story, not the other way around, but...

So many voices clamor over the voice of truth.

I don't know what I want.

I don't know what He wants.

And I panic.

The other day I gave a friend the full benefit of one of my not-so-little freak-out moments.  What in the world am I doing here and where am I going to go and who am I even, after all this?!  She told me that one day, I was going to look back on this time and be able to see what God was doing.

Part of me wants to wait until I have this all figured out.  Till I can tell you what I'm going to be doing.  Where and how I'm going to be serving.

But something else whispers that if I wait, I might be missing the entire point.  That maybe my desire to wait for things to settle into place before I open my mouth and talk about it (or sit down at the computer and write about it) is akin to pulling a curtain over an unfolding story.  God's unfolding story.

So here I am.  Still scared.  Still overwhelmed.  Still lying awake nights thinking about what the next six months or so is going to hold. 

It's all kind of a mess, not neat and tidy like I want my stories to be.

A friend had this song playing on repeat the other day, and one line struck me.  It's been running through my mind ever since -

To tell you my story is to tell of Him...

So I guess all my mess and unknowns are okay, 'cause in the end it isn't really even my story.  This is His story.  And He's the greatest Story Writer of all.

Refresh Africa, Part 4

Unfortunately all good things come to end.  (So they say.) 

 

 

Saturday afternoon found us all waiting around for the buses to pick us up, enjoying our last bit of time together.

 

 

Yes.  He was totally painting his wife's toenails.

 

 

Finally the buses came.

 

 

Bye, Eliza!

 

 

Anna modeling one of the shirts her host mom had made to sell at the conference.  (It was actually a guy's shirt.  And far too big for her, of course.)

 

 

Would I have ever gotten tired of those baobab trees, each one slightly different from the others?

 

 

 

 

No, I don't think I would have.

 

 

Less than ideal grazing, I'd say.

 

 

 

Yes.  That was a sheep on top of that car in front of us.  And yes, they totally had him wrapped in a blue plastic tarp.

 

Oh, Africa.  Sometimes you just make me laugh.

 

 

Mango season!

 

 

 

We were back in the city at this point, and passing the "Saturday market", as it was called.

 

 

 

We made it!

 

 

Time for unloading...

 

 

...and goodbyes.

 

 

(Photo credit: Jacob H.)

 

Good memories.

Refresh Africa, Part 3

Aside from the sessions every day, we had lots of things to fill our time.

 

 

Meals were a really good time to visit and get to know new people.  I loved it when we'd push a couple tables together, making room for plenty of people to sit around, friends both old and new.  We'd laugh at the ups and downs of serving in our respective fields, share what God was doing in our lives, and just enjoy each other's company.

 

(On a keeping-it-real note:  It was super cool meeting people - our coworkers - from around the world...the other side of Africa, the US, Canada, and even the Philippines.  The downside for me was that, in meeting so many new people, I had to repeat the same thing over and over again, "What am I planning on doing here in West Africa?  Actually I'm heading back to the States next week.  Yes, I'm leaving for now, even though I've come to love this place so much.  No, I have no idea what lies ahead for me."  I was really struggling with both the goodbyes and the unknown future staring me in the face, and it was not particularly fun to be reminded of that in every other conversation.)

 

 

 

 

 

Every afternoon there was a least one ball game (of some kind or another).

 

 

Me?  I watched.

 

In the words of my former classmate Stephen, "I'm a great spectator.  I can watch with the best of 'em!"

 

 

 

Jungle Speed: not a game for the tired, the slow, or the easily distracted.

 

  

 

 

 

Like in the games of Spoons, if two people grabbed that wooden thingy at the same time, they could fight over it.  It may have gone flying across the table a time or two.  Thankfully no one fell backwards into the pool...

 

 

The girls' hang-out one evening. 

 

 

We had crafts - card and envelope making...

 

 

 

 

Foot massages...

 

 

 

...and good chats.

 

 

 

Countries represented at just our table: the US, the UK, Brazil, Australia, the Netherlands.  Though we don't all serve in the same place, I get to call them my coworkers.  I love that.

 

 

 

Take #3.

 

 

 

Gracie and Gracia were transfixed by the music.  They were so cute sitting there like that, I just had to get a picture.

 

 

Twelve drummers drumming.  Or...not quite twelve.  But they were impressive, I tell you.

 

 

 

 

The girls: Angie, Janel, me, Jen, Anna, Leah, Ruth, Michi, Susie

 

 

 

"Goofy shot now!"

 

 

 

 

It took us a while to kind of synchronize our whole diving-into-the-pool act.

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eliza pulled Jen into the pool just after that picture.  Susie was pulling from the other direction, trying to keep her from falling in, but when Jen realized it was a hopeless fight, she gave up...and pulled Susie in with her.

 

And that was the beginning of a free-for-all, where just about anyone within the vicinity of the pool risked being thrown in.

 

I escaped.  I told them repeatedly, in no uncertain terms, that I do not swim.  (It's the truth.  It's also a little embarrassing.)  It worked.

 

 

Susie...

 

We cleaned wash houses together for a semester in training.  And that's where it started: the longest-running in-joke I've ever had with a friend.  I've appreciated her humor, her perceptiveness, and her dedication to following the Lord even when it's difficult.

 

 

Jen...

 

She had finished E2 before I came to West Africa.  I so appreciated her advice about relationships, church, language learning, and a lot of other practical areas.  She was great about cheering us other girls on in our learning.  Oh, and she's so much fun to tease and scare.

Anna...

This girl has given me advice when I needed it, encouraged me when I was down, let me vent, listened to my stressed-out over-analyzing, laughed and cried and prayed with me.  She's pretty much one of the most selfless people I know - always, always thinking of others.

And there you go.  Some of the cool people I got to hang out with that week.