August Reads

Faithful Women & Their Extraordinary God | Piper: One of my top favorite reads this year!  Noel Piper gives a portrait of six women who loved the Lord deeply - Sarah Edwards, Lilias Trotter, Gladys Aylward, Esther Ahn Kim, and Helen Roseveare - including excerpts from their own writings.  I was both challenged and encouraged seeing how God worked in their lives.  Definitely worth reading again.

The Translator | Hari: The memoirs of a man from Darfur.  It wasn't exactly light reading...war is such an ugly thing.  There's value in being aware of history, though, even if it's not pleasant.  I appreciated the insider's point of view and felt like he was a good story-teller.  In reading this book, I was also struck (again) by how important family connections are in this culture.  It challenged me to evaluate my own relationships and look for ways to deepen them.

Growing Up Yanomamӧ | Dawson: The author's account of his growing up in the jungles of Venezuela.  It made me laugh, squirm, and think.  The chapters are well-written and fairly short, so I found it to be an easy read.

A Faye Breakfast

I love Senegalese food.  It wasn't until I went back for visits and stayed with Julien and Angèle that I realized how much I loved Senegalese breakfasts - at least the Faye version.

Here are the essentials for a good breakfast chez Angèle:

Baguettes

Single-serve packets of Nescafé instant coffee

Sugar

Powdered milk 

Powdered chocolate milk for the kids

A kettle of hot water

Everyone sits around the table.  We pour water for the drinks and cut open the baguettes - a process which leaves a thousand tiny crumbs on the table cloth and tiled floor.

On the baguettes you can put anything you want.  You can go simple, with cheese or Chocopain (sort of a peanut version of Nutella) or butter and honey.  Usually that's what the kids get.  Angèle and I tend to go for something more savory.  My personal favorites include fried eggs and onion sauce; akara (fritters made from white beans and seasoning) and a spicy tomato-onion sauce; and any kind of leftovers - spicy stewed lentils, meat with onion sauce, vermicelli with onion sauce...

And speaking of this onion sauce?  I have never encountered a cuisine as in love with onions as the Senegalese.  In the markets you'll see stacks and stacks and STACKS of onions (literally tons - this is not an exaggeration), and they find their way into just about every savory dish made.

I never use a recipe, but here is the gist of it:

A decent amount of vegetable oil

Lots of chopped onions, preferably yellow or white

Dijon mustard (I've used brown mustard when I don't have Dijon on hand and that's good, too)

Bouillon cubes (or Maggi cubes, if you can find them)

Apple cider vinegar

A bit of water

Salt and pepper

Seasonings, to taste (I usually use a pinch of cloves, but thyme would be another pretty typical addition)

Optional additions -

Tomato paste

Lemon juice

Chile peppers

Fresh garlic

You sauté the onions in the oil first, then add the other ingredients and stir until everything cooks down and the sauce is a rich brown color.  It's delightful on grilled meat, eggs, rice, sandwiches, french fries...

The smell and taste transport me instantly back to Angèle's kitchen and remind me of all the happy meals I had there.

Hospitality(ish): The Curve Ball

It began as an ordinary Thursday.  The deep cleaning was done and Emily and I were going over things, talking about plans and projects for semester.

Dan came in around 10:00 and asked if I had 15 minutes to meet about the guest house, so I went over to his office and sat down with him and Casie.  We had a dilemma: more students were planning to come than we had beds for in the dorms.  Could one of the guest apartments provide a space to house people, at least for this semester?  It turned into a 45 minute meeting as we discussed every possible angle, hoping to avoid more upheaval than necessary.

He left to check on a few options.  I went back to my office to fill Emily in on the situation.  My head was spinning.  If the guest apartment had to be used, we would be losing a third of our capacity in the guest house, plus all the updates that we'd considered tackling this semester would have to be put on hold.  Dan popped in a number of times that morning, keeping us up to date on where things were at.

By the time lunch rolled around, we knew the guest house would be our only option.  Four interns would move in there, freeing up space in the dorms for our incoming students.

I had a registration project to help with at 1:30, but when that was done, Casie, Emily, and I met down at the guest house.  We went through the apartment, deciding what needed to be moved out and what could stay.  Twin bed frames and mattresses?  Leave for the interns.  Queen bed frame mattress?  Move to the basement.  Couch?  Leave.  Linens?  Move.  Dressers?  Leave.  TV, dining table and chairs, vacuum?  Leave.  Random stuff stored in closets in preparation for the renovations planned?  Move.

A group of guys came and helped us move things down to the basement and our tiny little supply room (which was then overflowing with stacks of blankets and sheets and such).  I went back to the office and called the guests that were planning to come for registration weekend.

"I'm so sorry, but we've had some last minute housing changes, and I've had to switch your reservation..."  Thankfully, although things are always full on registration weekend with families coming to drop off students, we had a very small window in one of the apartments for the night they needed.  It meant an extra clean to put on the schedule, but that was a small adjustment compared to what it could have been.

Still, at the end of the day, my head was reeling.  What would the next week look like?  How would this change the projects and budget requests we had been looking at for the semester?  "Help!  I don't know how to shift gears like this!"

I could see God's kindness, though.  We had a place for our guests.  We didn't have to turn students away because there wasn't room.  Because of the renovations originally planned, the room had been closed to bookings online for the entire semester, which meant we didn't have to cancel a bunch of reservations.

And truthfully, although I believe it's wise to have strategies, to make thoughtful goals for improving the guest house, I've lately sensed that God has wanted to grow me in another aspect of hospitality: flexibility.  Creativity.  Extending the spirit of welcome even when things aren't perfect or aren't going according to plan.

So...here we go!  Some of the changes I'd hoped to share with you this semester may not be happening quite yet, but I'm still looking forward to giving you updates on what we can do.

The Mercy of the Curtain

Five years ago, this is the story my Facebook statuses told -

August 17, 2013:
Today's workout: lifting a nearly-50lb action packer onto the scale repeatedly.  I sure hope that baby isn't over limit when I get to the airport!

August 18, 2013:
Last full day at home.

August 19, 2013:
Well, it looks like I'm going to be just about maxed out on my luggage weight.  *If* the scale is correct.  Which I hope it is, because I definitely don't want to be pulling stuff out of suitcases at the check-in counter...
- - -
The last minute packing stuff is going to be the death of me...
- - -
Whew!  I'm done packing (except for the very, VERY last minute stuff).  I think.  And I'm alive.  Maybe not sane, but alive.

August 20, 2013:
No over-weight baggage!  All but one were RIGHT at 50.0lb.  On another note, we had a thunderstorm on the way to the airport.  It might seem like a little thing, but we have them so rarely, and I really enjoy them.  It was like a special God-gift.
- - -
Getting ready to board for the last leg of the trip...

August 21, 2013:
Made it!  Safe, sound, and exhausted.  There were no major glitches along the way, so thanks for all the prayers!  More later.
- - -
My first night in Senegal.  I plan to sleep well.  <gets ready to dive under mosquito net>

August 22, 2013:



Praise the Lord for a good night's sleep!  It appears that not sleeping on either of my flights (essentially two nights without any sleep) may have been a blessing in disguise.  I think I may have escaped any serious jet lag...
- - -
The sounds of the night have begun.  One of them being a very, very loud frog.  What is the purpose of this constant croaking?  To find a mate, I assume.  I want to holler out the window, "Who do you think you're impressing with that awful ruckus?!"  Oh, right.  I'm not a frog.

August 23, 2013:
Woke up early this morning to my first Dakar thunderstorm.  Happy, happy, happy!
- - -
One of the missionaries stopped by to ask me if I wanted to join her for lunch.  I thought, "Sure, why not?"  I walked in and there was a group of people circled around a big pan of rice with peanut sauce and veggies.  So I slipped into the circle, waited for the prayer, and then glanced around to see what everyone was doing.  Before I went for my first spoonful, I realized I was holding my spoon in my left hand (definite no-no).  I quickly switched to my right and hoped no one had noticed...

August 24, 2013:
First open-air market experience this morning.  Swarms of flies?  Check.  Very little personal space?  Check.  Unfamiliar produce (as well as stuff I recognized)?  Check.  Cultural blunder?  Check.

August 25, 2013:
Today I went to my first African church service.  I didn't understand much (at all!) but I'm still glad I went.  It's a beautiful thing to see God's people worshipping Him, no matter what the context.

- - -

I love to plan, as far as I can see and beyond.  I want to know the results my choices will have.  If a process has ten steps, I want to know all ten of them before I start on the first.

Life is like a play sometimes - the curtain closes before the next act unfolds.  This used to scare me.  The inability to see what would happen next felt paralyzing.

Lord, show me Your will for my life, I'd pray, meaning Show me what the next twenty or thirty years will look like.  I want to know it all.

Mercifully, He does not show us the whole story at once.

Suppose there had been no curtain for young-missionary-freshly-arrived-in-Dakar me?  Suppose I had seen ahead to another day, only five years into the future - and all that would happen in between?

August 18, 2018:
I'm in one of the classrooms at the Bible School, wearing jeans and my black Ethnos360 Bible Institute t-shirt.  It's registration weekend and I'm welcoming the seventy-odd freshmen who've come, smiling and taking their phone numbers and telling them it's going to be a bit of a wait.  Some of them are jittery with excitement.  Some are nervous, unsure.  Some seem outwardly composed, as if new situations never bother them.  I've been all those things, too.  I look at their faces and wonder about the story - or stories - that brought them here.  Do those stories have the myriad of twists and turns that mine does?  Were there tears?  Have God's mysterious ways unsettled them?

How odd that I would be standing here, in this place, at this moment...

- - -

If I had known where the path would have led, I would have chosen differently.  Run away.  Doubted God's plan. 

And I would have missed out.

All the richness and memories and friendships Senegal brought to my life - I would have missed them.  The struggles and the painful learning process would have seemed pointless, a poorly written act with no connection to the one that would follow.

I didn't know - but He did.

Oh, the mercy of the curtain that kept it from my view until just the right moment.

The Psalm 143:5 Post

I remember the days of long ago; I meditate on all Your works and consider what Your hands have done.

As yet another semester kicks off here at the Bible School, I wanted to stop and remember the Lord's goodness in many specific aspects of my ministry in the guest house.

First, running the guest house (something I'd considered as far back as training in Missouri) was an opportunity that was available at the time I was looking to transition into ministry here in the U.S.  I think it's been a great fit, and I truly love it.

I knew a couple people on staff here already, including Esther, a good friend and once-upon-a-time classmate in training.  With all the transitions of the previous several years, anything or anyone familiar felt like an incredible gift.

Josh, the guy who was running the guest house when I came, was the perfect person to train me.  Not only had he done brilliant things, such as setting up an online booking system (which saved a lot of time compared to the previous paper-only system), he was both hilarious and friendly.  On the first day of training, he pulled out a chair for me in the bookstore (which was his other ministry at the time) and said, "Today, we're going to tell stories."  So we did, talking about our childhoods and families and past ministry experiences.  It was a good start - and he and his wife Tamara have become some of my very dearest friends on staff here.

For the first couple semesters, I reported to a guy named Greg.  I was the new person on staff, new to this job, and not particularly full of self-confidence.  Greg is so approachable and gracious.  I always felt like I was listened to.  The Lord knew exactly what kind of supervisor to give me during that time.

Things shifted around (as they often do around here), and eventually my ministry fell under the supervision of the President's office. 

Both Dan and Casie (the president and his wife) are wonderful big-picture thinkers.  I see details - and sometimes only details.  I need input from people who can see beyond them, and Dan and Casie have a wonderful way of giving that input.

Casie, Kristi, and I function as a team for the department, meeting every other week.  When I used to meet with Greg, the meetings usually took twenty minutes or so.  But once the three of us ladies started meeting, they could go forty-five minutes or longer!  We discussed the guest house, of course, but it went beyond that - personal life, ministry realities, and sometimes just sharing a laugh together.  How kind of God to bring closer teamwork and coworker friendships to me at a time when, for several reasons, I was really needing it.

It was perfect timing in other ways, as the school began a lot of renovations and updates.  Casie and Kristi oversee many of the decor, furniture, and paint choices throughout the school, so they were able to bring that perspective to our meetings as well.  Changes in the guest house could reflect the choices in the main school building, giving a more thoughtful, unified feel to the campus.

Last year, Emily asked to shadow me to learn more about guest house ministry.  This led me to eventually ask her to consider interning.  She said yes, but debated for a while whether to come in August or January.  She decided to come in mid-August, and the timing couldn't have been more perfect.

Last week was very, very full, and I was exhausted by the end of it.  I can't help but think how it would have looked if Emily had chosen to come in January and I'd had to shoulder all of the week's work alone.

We had planned to tackle some remodeling projects in one of the guest apartments this fall, so we closed it to booking for the entire semester.  Late last week, as the final arrangements for student housing were being hammered out, it became apparent that we had four more students than available spots in dorms.  (A good problem to have!)  Every possible option was explored and exhausted.  That guest apartment was the only option left.  So four interns moved into it, opening up dorm space for the four freshmen coming.  It could have been a nightmare, but only fairly minor shifts were necessary in the guest house since it hadn't been available to book.

I remember...
I meditate...
I consider... 

...and I'm thankful for the people the Lord has put in my life at various points, for His impeccable timing, for the way He is so aware of my needs in each season of ministry.

Auntie Corner

She was so excited about her new shoes.

One of my favorite shots of her so far.  She looks so much like her mommy!

I have no idea what she was doing with her hand, but it's hilarious.

I love his dimples.

...and his serious face.

Snack time is so exciting!

I'm endlessly pleased that she has so many curls and that they're taking on a familiar reddish tone...

I know I'm biased, but could he be any cuter?!

"Hi!"

Coloring is serious work, you know.

He's such a sweet big brother...always quick to hold her hand or give her kisses when she's fussy.

Little pumpkin.  I love that face so much.

Sunday Drives

Not every Sunday, but when I can, I like to take an afternoon drive.  After church and lunch, I make myself some coffee, pour it into a travel mug, and hop in the car.  I have a few favorite roads to drive along, but I'm always on the lookout for new ones, too.

It doesn't take long to leave the city limits and then the fun begins.

In an hour, you can see so many things ~

A profusion of wildflowers, blooming in the ditches with their characteristic enthusiasm 

Long grasses blowing gently in the breeze

Fields of corn and soybeans

Cows grazing placidly

Quaint towns and villages

Red barns and silos

Trees on either side of the road, making a delightful green canopy

Dappled shade under said canopy

Woods and meadows

And lakes...always lakes

The insects and red-winged blackbirds sing their summer songs, one of my favorite sounds.  When you drive through marshy areas (and there are plenty, because of all the lakes), you can smell this somewhat sweet, herbal sort of scent.  I think it might be fennel or something like that.  It's one of my very favorite scents in the world.  If my childhood had a scent, this would be it - the way the air smelled on the many walks through our own marshland parks.

It's lovely and relaxing, a time to process the week gone by and think through the one ahead.

Farmers Market Finds

Going to the farmers market on Saturday mornings is one of the highlights of my week.  Fresh, local produce just blocks away?  Yes, please!

Cucumbers:

My favorite way to eat it is with tomatoes and onions, all diced up and tossed with feta and a good vinaigrette.

Zucchini:

One of the ladies selling vegetables told me she especially loves this stripped zucchini, so I gave it a try.  It's delicious!  Slightly sweeter, and the skin is nicer in both texture and taste.

I broiled some with the fresh basil and threw it into a salad.  I've made a cheese-salsa-sliced zucchini-diced jalapeño salad.  I've fried it up with rice and soy sauce.  I've sauteed it with sausage and onions. I also like to cut it in spears and dip it in hummus.  Really, it's such a lovely, versatile vegetable that it's hard to go wrong.

Beets:

I peel, dice, and freeze them for smoothies.  So good!  One of my current favorite combinations is beets, strawberries, blueberries, banana, peaches, fresh ginger, and romaine.

Patty pan squash:

With half, I sauteed sausage and onions in a bit of butter, then added dried oregano, fennel seeds, parmesan cheese, salt and pepper.

With the other half, I sauteed onions in butter, then added bacon bits, Lawry's seasoned salt, diced pickled jalapeño, and topped it with shredded cheese when it was done cooking.  This may be my favorite culinary discovery recently.

Not pictured:

The fat, juicy blueberries that positively burst with flavor.  I freeze the ones I manage not to eat as soon as I get home.

The flowers are just pretty. :)

Trekkers, Trail Guides, and Signposts

In my younger years, I imagined that God's purpose and leading for my life would be a kind of adventure.  I would trek through the literal and metaphorical jungles of missions and have all sorts of wonderful stories to tell.

Maybe eventually, I'd be something like a trail guide - someone with lots of overseas experience, someone with a wealth of knowledge, someone who knew the ups and downs of the trail intimately and could lead others in adventures for Him.

Two years in Senegal was a quick hike compared to the life-long trek I envisioned.

While I doubted neither God's leading there nor His leading back, I wrestled deeply with my identity, my understanding of His purpose, and how I was supposed to fit into it.

My trek didn't last very long and I didn't have the vast wisdom to play trail guide to the students I now work with.

What now?

Perhaps the purpose of my life is simply to be a signpost to others trekking past: Trust God with the detours.

Perhaps West Africa was the brief, lone peak of my life and the rest will stretch out as flat as the Nebraska plains, devoid of anything extraordinary.  Perhaps thirty years from now I'll still be in this modest Midwest town, working in the same office, watching the twenty-somethings and not-quite-twenty-somethings walk in our doors and out again two years later.

Some of them will go on to far-away lands, learn new languages, translate Scriptures, see churches planted - all part of the trail I'd planned to walk myself.  But those plans stopped short and instead I find myself just a plain little sign on the side of the path:

He is good.

He is faithful.

It doesn't always make sense but that's okay.

He can be trusted no matter what.

There isn't even an illusion of grandeur in being a signpost, not the faintest dazzle of importance.

I always wanted to do something important - something that mattered - with my life.  What if this is all I ever do?

I'm slowly learning to submit to being small and ordinary.  After all, He can be trusted and His plans are good.

The Worst Good News

It was the early spring of 2014.  I was in Senegal and Sarah wanted to Skype one evening.

At the very end of the conversation she and Brian told me, "You're going to be an aunt!"  I don't remember exactly what I said - not much, but I do know that as soon as we hung up, I broke down.

I'd never cried that much in my life.

I spent the whole weekend wandering through my apartment, sobbing out loud.  I knew the neighbors could hear me but I didn't care.  The tears just wouldn't stop.

It was good news, and all I could think was this -

Everything always happens when I'm gone.  I was in Missouri when they started dating, still in Missouri when they got engaged, and now I'm an ocean away and they tell me I'm going to be an aunt.
I'm so sick of it.  So done with it.
Why do I have to miss out on every single thing?
You're breaking my heart, God.
It isn't fair.
It can't be true.
This must be a bad dream.  I'll wake up.

But it wasn't a dream.

- - -

Sarah went into labor one day in late October.  Things weren't progressing as quickly or as well as they should have, so I left the language center - and internet connection - that evening knowing that he would be born sometime during the night, but I wouldn't hear about it until the next morning.

It was awful.

- - -

Eight months later, I landed in California and the whole family met me at the airport - little Kai in his stroller, all sleepy from the late hour.

A tiny human, my own flesh and blood, that I was just meeting for the first time.

- - -

During the six months I lived with my parents after returning from Senegal, we watched Kai while both Sarah and Brian were at work.

Brian would drop him off in the wee morning hours - our house dark and quiet, like houses should be at 4:00am.

Sometimes he'd wake up crying, and I'd scoop him out of the car seat before he woke anyone else up.  I'd lay back down in bed, pulling the quilt up over both of us, his little head resting on my chest.

- - -

He'd snore, sometimes, in his little car seat while I drank coffee and worked at my desk.  He was so precious sleeping.  I just wanted to sit there soundlessly and watch him, but at the same time I couldn't wait for him to wake up so I could see his smile and sing to him and play with him.

- - -

His eyes would open and he'd stick his fist out in the air, waiting for a fist bump.  He was always giving fist bumps - to Mommy and Daddy, to his aunties, to the barista at Starbucks, to his reflection in the mirror.

- - -

He eventually got hair and his eyes stayed that striking blue and he learned to talk and he got a little sister.  I'm not quite so far away this time, but not close enough to see him very often.  So we Skype when we can.  He alternates between shy giggles behind pillows and over-the-top silliness.

He has the most hilarious imagination and he will talk your ear off.

Trains and cars and anything with wheels are his favorite.

He makes goofy faces and has all the boundless energy of a little boy.

- - -

Sometimes God's gifts don't come the way we want them to.  They don't look how we expect them to look or the timing seems all wrong.  Sometimes they hurt.

But every single gift He gives is good, even the ones that catch us off guard.

How would our lives look without Malachi's - his cheesy grin, his dimples, his ability to make us laugh so much?  It's an odd (and perhaps pointless) question, because clearly the Lord knew Kai's life was the perfect gift for our family.

I don't pretend to always understand why He does things the way He does, but I am more and more utterly convinced of this: He is good, and I can trust whatever He gives me.

Discoveries

You know those helpful discoveries you make about yourself or how to make life simpler or how to address stresses that keep cropping up?

I feel like I've made a lot of those this year.

1. Waking up to an alarm starts my morning off all wrong.  I had a couple mornings last semester where my alarm woke me up right in the middle of a dream or a deeper part of my sleep cycle, and it made me feel groggy and out-of-sorts the entire morning.  Now, I've never been the type of person who can/will sleep for twelve hours straight; eight hours is pretty much the most I'll sleep in a single stretch.  This practically guarantees that as long as I go to bed at a fairly decent time, I can wake up on my own in plenty of time to be at work.  This realization has made mornings so much better.  I feel more rested and don't start off the day with a panicky feeling over the sound of an alarm.  (If there's a reason I have to get up significantly earlier than usual for something that can't be missed, I will still set an alarm.)

2. I have a love-hate relationship with running.  This summer I didn't have the gumption to push past the two-week hating stage to get to where I could actually enjoy it, but instead I found another daily workout that I've enjoyed.  Regular exercise really does make a difference.

3. Creativity takes me time and quiet (not always literal quiet, but mental quiet at least).  There were some projects to work on this summer that required a fair amount of creativity, and it took nearly the whole summer before my brain was at a good place for that.  Up until now, I've largely been frustrated when I can't churn something out at the drop of a hat.  In the future, I'll know to allow for time to let the noise of life settle down before attempting something that requires creativity.

4. Having routines helps me feel less stressed.  Breakfast means something toast-able (like English muffins or bagels) with butter and maybe fresh fruit.  Saturday is laundry-and-farmers-market day.  After church on Sunday is a quiet afternoon with coffee on the couch.   Friday night is family time (although I'm over plenty of other times too).  The last day of the month is when I take care of budget stuff.  I don't have to constantly decide when to do things or how to spend time; it's built into the rhythm of life already.  The fewer decisions that have to be made in a given time period, the calmer my mind can be.

5. Margin is glorious.  This summer taught me how much more I enjoy life, friendships, and my walk with the Lord when there is some blank space left on the calendar or in the day.

6. People time, especially with smaller groups and friends I'm closest to, recharges and encourages me.  If I go too long with mostly my own company...well, I start to feel out-of-sorts.

7. I don't have to try all the new things all the time.  This applies to hospitality, friends, food, ministry opportunities - you name it.  New things aren't always bad, but sometimes I've found myself slipping into the mentality of always searching for the best way to do something instead of being content with a perfectly good way.  One more unnecessary stress I was putting on myself.

8. I'm not a huge fiction fan.  I've tried several books this year, but I can't seem to get into them - so they just go back to the library unread.  Jan Karon's Shepherds Abiding was the only exception I can think of.

What discoveries have you been making lately?