Good Courage

The Bible talks a lot about fear. It tells us over and over to fear God and nothing else. To be of good courage. Never to fear man. This theme has been coming up over and over these last few weeks in my life. It feels like time to talk about it.

A few months ago for some reason every single time I left the house I got nervous. Is everything unplugged? Is the lock on securely? Is the gas for the stove off? Did I close the balcony door,  the windows? I would walk down the street to get the bus with this almost sinking feeling just praying for God's protection over our house. I even started hiding my computer some days in case anyone managed to break in. It was ridiculous. There is, comparatively, little crime here and neighbors are always out on the street watching what goes on. I talked to my housemate after it had been going on for a little while. She was doing the same things. Experiencing the same fears. They were sudden and out of nowhere.

Around this time in something I was reading it talked about fear being a sin. That's right. Worrying isn't a bad habit, it's a sin. Fear is the opposite of faith. It is the opposite of trust. Two things that are absolute bare bones essentials in a life following Christ. There is not a whole lot we can actually control in this life. But I can choose not to fear. I can control that.

Around that same time I started have issues with creepy men again, specifically on the bus. When it was an issue earlier in the year I started tensing up immediately when a man would sit next to me or when I walked by a group of young guys on the street. I would repeat over and over in my head "Don't touch me. Don't touch me. Leave me alone. Leave me alone." The stress of it would almost make me tear up sometimes. So when it started happening with frequency again I was like, "No, you know what? Beth Ann the power in you is greater than the darkness in the world. Hold your ground. Do not fear." I started speaking up. I reacted. Maybe I don't always do it in the right way and I'm probably still awkward sometimes, but dang it I'm not scared anymore. And I think that has to be honoring to God--heeding his commands. Trusting in the power he promised is within us.

I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if I'll get a return visa for next year. I don't know if I'll be robbed our our house will go up in flames again. I don't know if I'll ever do anything that matters. I don't know if I'll ever get married and have kids. Maybe the boys' at the centers will hate all my ideas and think they're stupid. Maybe the centers will be shut down. Maybe more of my friends will be imprisoned or kicked out of the country. Maybe the protests from this week will continue. Maybe they will spread, maybe not. Maybe the government will change. I'll probably be treated inappropriately by men at some point in the week...maybe even every day. Maybe I'll never see loved ones again! Tomorrow is not promised to us. But whatever may come or doesn't I will not fear. I will not fear, I will not fear. I will speak the truth, even if my voice shakes. I will praise, even if it means sacrifice. I will trust. Even in disappointment and dismay.

In Ephesians 6 it talks about putting on the whole armor of God. The helmet of salvation, sword of the spirit, all that. Someone recently pointed out to me that the armor leaves one place unprotected--your back. In old tribal warfare if someone got shot in the back with an arrow it meant they were a coward, because the only way to get shot in the back is to turn tail and run away. Lesson: Don't run back! Take courage! You're well protected!

I don't think that you need to feel scared in order to respond to fear. I think a lot of fears are much more subtle than that. Sometimes it can come as a facade of wisdom. Making decisions based on wisdom and the good sense God gave us is one thing. Making decisions based on fear is a whole other ball game. Once I started thinking about this I started to see the subtle fears in my life. And once you start hearing them, how do you silence them?

Prayer. Prayer silences the voices from the world in our head. The fears, worries, gimmies, naggings, to-do's. Like the old hymn says, when we turn our eyes on Jesus the things of earth become strangely dim. Sometimes when I get really frustrated I stop, talk to God, even just to tell him I'm aggravated (as if he didn't know), and it starts to silence that too. It is a great gift to have access to our Maker all the time. He is never out of reach. Never far away. Not waiting for me to ritually wash or sacrifice before I can talk to Him. No, he is always there. Christ busted open that door for us to have that kind of access to God. What an amazing gift. Everyone needs to know!

"The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life, of whom shall I be afraid? When evildoers assail me to eat up my flesh, my adversaries and foes, it is they who will stumble and fall. Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war rise against me, yet I will be confident...I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living! Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!" Psalm 27:1-3, 13-14

I love The Message translation of these verses, too: "Light, space, zest--that's God! So with him on my side I'm fearless, afraid of no one and nothing. When vandal hordes ride down ready to eat me alive, those bullies and toughs fall flat on their faces. When besieged I'm calm as a baby. When all hell breaks loose, I'm collected and cool...I'm sure now I'll see God's goodness in the exuberant earth. Stay with God! Take heart. Don't quit. I'll say it again: Stay with God."

"Courage is fear that has said it's prayers." Dorothy Bernard

Weka

While I love the communal, eating with my hands thing during meals with Sudanese, there are still a few foods that I'm still getting the hang of eating. Weka is one of them. They eat a lot of okra here. Weka is okra that has been dried in the sun and pounded into a powder. They add it to certain stews to thicken them up. It tastes really good. But the consistency of whatever they put it in becomes, for lack of a better comparison, snot-like. Stews with weka are usually layered with kisra (a spongy flat pancaky thing), and you scoop it up and eat it with your hands like everything else. It's usually more of a special occasion dish so it's not something that I eat at the center all that frequently. AKA, I haven't had enough practice to master eating it yet. It requires a swift turning hand motion to get it to your mouth without making a mess. I inevitably end up with some weka on my clothes and usually dripping down my wrists. Recently I was eating with a group and it always happens that one or two (or three...) gave me a weka eating tutorial. I still made a mess. Whatever, one day insha'llah (if God wills it), I'll get it all in my mouth like a Sudanese. Though I'm pretty sure that day is still a long way off. Being able to poke fun at myself is an indispensable skill here.

Leading and Following

Monthly all of the staff at the centers get together for a time of prayer. There is a short devotion, some singing, sharing of  center needs, then we pray together in small groups. This week it was my turn in the rotation to lead the devotion. The teacher who was running things called me up and stood, ready to translate for me, and I sort of hesitantly said, "Well...I'm ready in Arabic...I think." She smiled and British director lady gave me a high five. I nervously laughed and said "Well...wait 'til the end; we'll see how it goes!"

And... I did it! I talked about the verses in Jeremiah 17, about rooting ourselves deep in the Lord so we're connected with our source, then our lives won't be shaken by whatever outside circumstances come. It was fairly simple, and not super long, but I was happy when I finished. I sat down and it was like a runner's high, only it was an Arabic high. Ok...maybe it was just a feeling of relief. Felt good all the same.

It's not really difficult to elicit praise from this group (not that I'm complaining!), so their kind words were nice but I didn't really take them as objective critics really. But British director lady is a little more difficult to please, and she was really impressed. It was great encouragement.

Right after we went into a time of prayer. It makes my heart heavy. There is so much going on in this country. The ch is under pressure on every side. There is fighting even within the ch. Some of the properties where the centers are want them to move. There isn't enough money for next years budget. There is continuing fighting in different parts of the country. Yellow fever outbreak. Persecution. Public transport is an increasing difficulty. International schools are under pressure and some are being forced to close. There was a failed attempt at a coup recently. Some foreigner friends and acquaintances are  being very closely watched by gov officials. Some are being questioned, a few imprisoned. Visas are being denied. There are new littlies at the center (Which is great!) but their stories break my heart. This week in class we talked about female circumcision--a horrible, dangerous, mutilating practice that is still very present here. And the consequences of it. Wedding traditions which are, thankfully, starting to die out. Like marrying girls of at 10, 11, 12 years old. Gah! It hurts my heart and it makes me sad and even angry in some cases. How?! Why?? How do I have it so good in my life? Why was I given this cakewalk of a life? I mourn for the stolen childhoods and joy. I'm here and so close to many of these things that have moved and ached my heart for many years. Even being next-door to these things I still feel helpless sometimes. But the Lord is moving. Where there are hard times, where the enemy is persecuting, the Spirit of God is at work. It's a paradox that has been true since the First Century. Grant me courage, Lord. And the presence of mind to speak and act.

These last few days have been really full, as I am anticipating this whole month to be. But good. Really good. I get to love my days here. I'm just smitten with the boys I get to work with. It's so amazing. Sometimes there are periods where it feels like a struggle or a sacrifice. But really, overwhelmingly, I am happy--I am thankful. He is so good.

Every Tounge

I really like my church here. It's bigger than you would probably think. Maybe 200 attending every Friday? I'm not so good with estimating, but that's my best guess. It's mostly African,  a few Asians, maybe 20% Western, if that. The worship is pretty great and the pastor shares the pulpit pretty frequently. We get to hear from people all over the world.

At the end of worship last week we were singing "How Great Thou Art" and the guy leading encouraged everyone to sing the chorus in their mother tounge. Just around me there was English, German, Swahili, and Arabic. But represented also were Filipino, and languages from Uganda, Algeria, Liberia, Ghana, Nigeria, Ivory Coast, and numerous others. It was beautiful.

Giving Thanks

In light of Thanksgiving I did some baking for the boys centers. On Wednesday last week I made glazed sugar cookies for the littlies center and the teachers. I explained about Thanksgiving and how it's a day where people don't work or go to school, and it's dedicated to family and food and being thankful. I said how some families go around the table and share what they are thankful for. So I suggested we have the boys go around one by one and say something they were thankful for. I started and said I was thankful I get to live in Sudan. Algheer, one of the teachers, said he was thankful for his 4 month old daughter. I sort of expected the boys to say all the same thing, but they did have some unique responses. There were a lot of thankfuls for the center and the chance to go to school. There were two "I don't know"s. One boy said that there are a lot of dead people, but he's not. To which Algheer responded jokingly, "You're happy a lot of people are dead!?" One boy was thankful that no one was sick that day. Another that they had food. One of the new boys, Abudu, said he was thankful that I came from America to teach them to draw. At the end of every day I literally pry the pencil from this boys fingers when I need to leave. It was precious.

I made a pumpkin cake for the older boys. I didn't ask them to go around with what they were thankful for, but I did explain about Thanksgiving and that it's a day for family. I told them they are like my family in Sudan. They applauded. I'm not sure if it was for the family comment or the cake, but they were happy all the same. I made a point not to tell them up front that there was pumpkin in the cake. In general the Sudanese palate does not like to try new things. Also, I'm learning that pumpkin in sweet things seems to be a really American thing. It's not unheard of in other Western countries, but it seems to be a lot less common. One of the teachers asked me what the ingredients were. I rattled them off and when I said pumpkin he said "Pumpkin?" I said "Yeah, pumpkin." ..."Pumpkin?!" "Yeah, pumpkin." Then he sort of laughed to himself. I guess you never know what these crazy foreigners will bust out. He encouraged one of the other teachers to try it and said I was an artist with food. Yeah!

My Thanksgiving day was nice. I had language school in the morning. Made an apple cake to share. In the evening I joined about 30 other Americans (10 of them were kids) and we had a  big potluck. No turkey or cranberries, but still a few of the classics--stuffing, mashed potatoes, yeast rolls, a pumpkin sort of mac and cheese, pumpkin pie, apple pie, among other things. It wasn't the same as being at home of course, but it was super fun and I was so thankful to have people to share the holiday with. We played games and I went to bed with a very overfull belly...as the holidays often go. Thankful!

Bits

There is a lot going on in my heart and life these days. I've tried a few times the last couple days to type it out into some sort of sense. It doesn't feel like anything worth sharing yet. This entry feels like a little bit of a cop out. I knew it was time to post something but I don't have any good stories or anything. There is a lot going on but it just feels like bits and pieces.

Our neighbors had a precious little baby and a few days later with no warning a giant tent was erected, literally, 6 inches from our front door and it was party day. People up and down our steps all day. My housemate was gone for the weekend but I knew I had to stop by. Make an appearance, if you will. So I went and ate, tried to chat, sat there awkwardly. My life. You begin to grow accustomed to these sorts of situations. Smiling and rolling with it are an art I'm beginning to grasp.

Part of last week and for a few days this week I'm substitute teaching at an international school for a friend so she could go to a wedding in Switzerland. Said friend left detailed and easy lesson plans. The class is fun and well behaved. One of the boys has the most expressive faces I have ever seen. One of the days was, all of the sudden, declared Muslim New Years and therefore a public holiday, so we all got the day off. So it's been a pretty easy gig. And I was promised some Swiss chocolate in return for my services. Can't beat that!

Today I was even given a ride home (no bus!) and as I was waiting I got to chatting with a few of the teaching assistants, who are all Sudanese. I started chattering away in Arabic with them (there is a no Arabic rule during school hours to get the kids who are mostly non-native speakers to become completely fluent.) They were impressed with my skills. Which, I think they are pretty easily impressed, but it was good encouragement all the same.

These next few weeks are buuuuusy. I am facing them with a tidbit of apprehension, but I know all will be fine. I love this time of year, even from afar. I'm feeling homesick, but I'm very thankful that I have community here to share the holidays with.

Hopefully next week I'll feel less frazzled (though that is unlikely) and I'll have something better/more interesting to share. Thanks for reading! Sorry if my posts are a let-down sometimes!

Obama and Sodas

This week I got many congratulations from lots of local folks about the re-election of Obama. When I was at the littlies center earlier this week I was sitting and eating lunch with a bunch of the teachers and staff. They were congratulating me and America and laughing. I asked why they like Obama so much and some of them pointed to their skin and said "Because he is black like us!" Also, the tribe that his father was from in Kenya has roots in Sudan, so often I will hear that Obama is Sudanese. People like that.

As we were eating one of the teachers pulled out some money to get one of the boys to go get some sugar to eat with the rice. (I don't get it either, but people eat it like that here often). One of the other teachers joked that he should buy sodas for everyone to celebrate Obama. (Any excuse for a fizzy drink, really). I said that if anyone bought sodas for that it shouldn't it be the only American? We all laughed about it but they were carrying on and it was so silly that I ended up doing it. I said I would buy for the boys as well. The director said "No, no, it's ok, just for the teachers." And I said "The boys aren't happy about Obama? Only the teachers?" They laughed and agreed I could buy for the boys too if I wanted.

When they got the sodas the director stood up and had them toast me and America and Obama. It was ridiculous and funny. One of the boys got confused and asked if Obama was going to be the president of Sudan. Ohhh my. Haha. But the boys didn't really care, they were just happy for an excuse for a soda.