Guest Post by Tom: Reminded

Reminded!  by Tom

Walking to campus this morning reminded me that I was no longer in America.  A herd of about 30 cattle, very tame, was meandering through campus scrounging for something to eat.  They stopped at an open trash/garbage “spot” in between the dorm complex and the main campus mosque.  Seeing cattle eating cardboard --my in-laws in Kansas don’t do it that way!  Just across the street from the cattle 3 boys were playing soccer using a 2-liter plastic bottle for a ball.  They were playing and kicking that bottle around very heartily! 

Speaking with a student 30 minutes later also reminded me that I was no longer in America. He was Muslim and had asked for a copy of the Bible, which we gave him.  We talked about Jesus and it became clear that everything in our faith (and thus in his) depending on the true identify of Jesus.  Was He God Incarnate as He said and humanity’s only Savior?  Did He indeed die on the cross for the forgiveness of sins and did He really rise from the dead?  We read passages from both the Old and New Testaments.  Toward the end of our time together the student began to get a bit edgy and started quoting Koranic verses – I think he was feeling “cornered.”  We kept it pleasant, for we are after light and not heat.  We had visited for almost 2 hours, and I came away with a heavy heart, thinking of that passage which makes mention of the Gospel being “veiled” and of minds being “blinded” by the god of this world so that they cannot believe.

Chatting with Niger students in a dorm room at the university reminded me of how tough they have it.  4-6 students living and sleeping in a room that we would consider barely big enough for 1!  One 2’ x 3’ desk with no drawers.  No chest of drawers, just one small bookcase that sits on the desk.  One 3’ door-less closet for all their clothes.  Always 2 to a single bed for night.  Crowded?  Understatement!  How on earth do they function?  With great resilience!  Any students have cars?  None!  (Parking is not a problem; but then again, there are no parking lots on campus!

Several of the student dorms.  

This is one of seven mosques on campus along with 30 other prayer points. 

Walking home from campus reminded me that some things are universal.  Just outside our walled –in yard, a half dozen children in the 3-6 age-range were making mud pies, and were as dirty as you can imagine!  And having the time of their lives!  They were clad with only the bottom-half underwear, although our one neighbor boy of about 2 never has any clothes on!  These kids were, I think, playing “house” and “cooking” just like in the states. 

The Lord reminded me today of two things:  a poem I learned in college and a favorite verse from Proverbs.

“Bear not a single care thyself, one is too much for thee.  Mine is the work and Mine alone; thy work to rest in Me.”

 Proverbs 3:3-4 says, “Do not let kindness and truth leave you.  Bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart.  So you will find favor in the sight of God and man.”

Our vehicle situation is not working out at all and I was sliding toward “mean-spiritedness” when God graciously brought the above-mentioned passage to mind. 

He reminds His children that this earth is not their home.  But while “strangers and exiles” we are to do good to men, and thus testify of the greatness and goodness of our God and Savior.

You have been reminded of my world, today.

God is the Author of Her Story

As we have watched our dear children grow through adolescence and then become adults, nothing has brought us more joy than seeing them grapple with and then embrace the fact that God is the author of their story. A loving, gracious God who has superintended every joy-filled and every painful experience in their lives.  He, the loving, the good, the tender Shepherd has always been at work in them to make them who they are today.

Having Lindsay live with us this semester has been such a gift from a loving Heavenly Father.  He knew this mom needed one of her kids around her as she adjusted to her new life in Niamey.

Last Thursday, Lindsay was asked to tell her story in the weekly junior high/high school assembly at the school where she is teaching.  She was vulnerable and open as she shared the deep pain and loss she experienced  in leaving Africa in 2005.   And then, tears came to our eyes as she shared coming to a profound understanding of who this God is that she worships.

Here are a couple of quotes from her talk:

"Although I accepted Jesus as my Savior when I was 9 years old, I was not worshiping the right god. I was worshiping a god who existed for my happiness and who I had shaped and formed in my mind. I was seeking the God I wanted, not the God who is. You see, when you transform God, you are worshipping an idol. When you believe what you want to believe, you morph God into what you want Him to be. You believe in a god that suits your taste. That’s idolatry. When I moved back to the US, the god I had created in my mind was failing me. He had planned the wrong story for me. I was disappointed in His plan..."

"... I may never know “why” until Heaven, but you know what makes it easier? The God I obey and the God I have faith in is a good God. He’s completely good. And He’s eternal, so He’s eternally good. He’s sovereign, so He’s good in all areas of everything. He’s the Perfect Author, so He only writes good stories..."

 "...But one thing I know, I serve a God who is good and it was good for me to go back to Kansas in 2005."

 This is when she was saying,  "I love, love, love, love my family!" 

34 Spring Breaks later...

Ever since the day I got involved with Cru at Fort Hays State,  vacations have meant conferences:
Fall Get-away, Christmas conference, Spring break conference.

Way back in 1978, my second year at FHSU,  I was invited to go to a spring break conference at Daytona Beach with Campus Crusade to learn how to share my faith. I wrote home asking for permission and, of course, money and I still have the note written to me by my Dad, on a tiny slip of paper, with his absolutely minuscule, neat-as-a-pin handwriting.   His little note started out "To my little missionary...".   How did he know?

That was many years ago and I'm still going to spring break conferences that teach students how to share their faith in Jesus Christ with others.

( I also have horrible memories of wearing my sister Donna's homemade  swimsuit! Yellow flowers. We had both made our own the previous summer out of calico fabric.  Two piece--well, kinda.  It was like baby doll pajamas if you know what I mean. It worked great for hoeing weeds in the garden when we wanted to get a tan, but wearing it on Daytona Beach?!!  I was absolutely mortified to wear it back then and I'm mortified today just remembering that I actually wore it in public!  I'm sooooo glad I don't have any pictures of that and hope no one else does either.)

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of this week we met from 8:00am to 5:30pm at our office.  There were approximately 30 students who participated in the two levels of training.  The mornings were given to teaching and training and the afternoons the students practiced sharing the gospel with students in the neighborhood and on campus. It was a great time.

An awesome teacher!  

Our group met outside in a covered lean-to.
 It's been a very windy, dusty week so we were always covered in dust by the end of the day.  

We ate sumptuous noon meals everyday cooked over the fire.  I told the cook she could come to my house once a week to cook for us!  She did a fabulous job.

                           Pumpkin squash, eggplant, peppers, tomatoes, cabbages, carrots and of course, lots of onions
                                  went into the sauces served with rice.  Vegetables are plentiful at this time of year. 

and we washed all the dishes like this. 

The Grandsons come for dinner

We love having students over for dinner and tonight was the first since arriving in Niger.
Our guests were the ones who love to call us Grandmère et Grandpère. (Grandma and Grandpa)
The five of them, plus one more, share a dorm room that has 2 single beds.
They were invited for 7:00 and finally all arrived at 8:00.
We'd invited 4 and 5 came.
They greeted me "Bonsoir, Grandmère."
I replied (kindly and with a smile), "Je m'appelle Marcy." (My name is Marcy)
               

I realized too late in the day that I really didn't have serving plates/bowls for serving food at the table.  My mom taught me well--NEVER put kettles on the table!  Sorry mom,  I had no choice.

The salad was served on the plastic lid of my cake pan.
The bread was served in a pie plate.
The couscous was served in my tupperware bread bowl.
The sauce for the couscous went on the table in the kettle it was cooked in!

 I really think I was the only one who noticed or cared.

Salad and baguette with vinaigrette dressing
Everyone loves this dressing.  
The recipe is from my dear friend, Nancy Burg.
Even the boys asked for the recipe!

Couscous is a common meal here. We love it.
 I made the sauce with lots of vegetables which are so available right now. 

Peanut butter cookies for dessert
 along with "Lipton"(tea) and "Nescafé"(instant coffee)... and LOTS of sugar cubes. Oh, my!  

They wanted the "American" experience of eating so Tom explained:
           that we sit at the table for our meals.
           we pass the food from one person to the next.
           if we need something we ask "please pass the ____."

Quite a new experience for them.
Tom was a regular "Emily Post".
They were aghast that they would be served first, rather than Tom, the older man and the host.
They didn't even notice that I didn't eat with them--just served them.

A great evening.

If you haven't read about our titles, grandma and grandpa, click here:  
http://marcyandtom.blogspot.com/2012/01/grandfather-and-grandmother.html

Walkin' the plank

Road construction.
         From a-z.
A whole new road.
         In front of our house.
         Dust and more dust.
Lots and lots of workers for Tom to make friends with.
Hauling out hundreds of truckloads of sand.
Reminds me of the parable of the house built on the rock and the house built on sand.   
              

There are two bridges over the Niger River here in Niamey:
         the "old" two lane bridge
         and a new four-lane bridge built recently by the Chinese.
The old bridge is the connection to downtown so is very, very busy but it is often blocked with broken down trucks or accidents or a cow dying as she was crossing the bridge (really, truly!).


So the new bridge is beautiful with its four lanes and sidewalks, but no one uses it because there is no good road connecting the bridge to the main road.  Soooo the Chinese are mid-way through a 14 month project of constructing a paved road between the two bridges and it passes directly in front of our house.

The latest step in the road building is digging water drainage canals on the sides of the roads. All done with pick axes and shovels.  That took another 5 feet off our driveway and left a deep chasm between me and the road! 

Tom tried to jump it, 
         before it was quite so wide.
           He made it, but our neighbor scolded him, saying "Old men shouldn't do that!" 


The same innovative neighbor found a plank that just fit across the gap for us and all the rest of the neighborhood to walk across.

What my dear neighbor didn't understand is that I have a horrible fear of chasms and narrow bridges--especially planks without rails! 


Joan M., you remember our being jettisoned into outer space on that red machine so we could paint the soffets on our house? Petrifying.

Erika, I know you understand.  Now is not the time to come visit us, dear.


I've gotten braver and no longer have to hold someone's hand to cross over.  It's given the neighbors something to laugh about as they watch the white lady creep across the plank.


The other day when I arrived home in a taxi with my bags from my monthly grocery shopping I panicked, wondering how I would carry a flat of 30 eggs- expensive eggs,  several heavy bags and a box of groceries and keep my balance crossing the bridge.  Fortunately, there was a crop of neighbor boys, thrilled to help me for a hundred francs.  

One day the road will be finished. In the meantime I'm facing my fears and walkin' the plank.