Flesh and Blood

Over two years ago, I moved to Tanzania with all the answers. People asked me what I would be doing, I replied with confidence. They asked my long-term vision, I told them the plan unabashed.


As I sit in my living room this afternoon, after time to reflect over all that the Lord’s done, not during my time in Tanzania, but the nearly five years since He first called me, I have to say that I have way more questions than answers. In fact, I daresay, that I don’t know a whole lot at all. 


I used to have a few regular readers for my weekly blogs on this site, but as I prepare to send this piece out to get lost in the vast inter-web, I have to ask myself what I’ve been doing the last four months that I couldn’t afford the time to write even one blog, one story, to share with folks back in the states. 


I suppose the best answer to that is that life has happened. In my attempts to be a good husband to Melissa and a good father and educator to the treasures, the whole being a good writer (or a writer at all, more accurately) has been pushed aside. Time spent on dirty dishes, teaching the preschoolers, balancing TOA’s books, feeding the dog, managing the home and just trying to be a good husband have each individually eclipsed, even dwarfed, my time spent writing for this blog.


In the midst of life happening, something profoundly significant and important has happened, a joyous event. Melissa and I got pregnant. Our lives are forever changed by this little one that we are anticipating seven months from now and already, the child’s arrival is changing our plans and we’re being forced to re-shape that which we call life.


Over the last couple weeks since we’ve told people, I’ve had a couple people congratulate us saying, “now, you’ll be parents to your own flesh and blood.” Rita said this herself as we met with her a couple days ago. Its an interesting point, one that we’re undoubtedly excited for, but there’s a reason that they say that.


If you were to go back to that time when I had all the answers a couple years ago and you asked my friends and family, “who is the one person that Brandon is excited to be with when he gets to Tanzania?” Ten out of ten people would say the same name, Awadhi. People without a second thought referred to him as my son, both American friends in the states and Tanzanian friends here.  His picture is up in my parents house in Wisconsin. When people talk about me, they talk about him. He has been indelibly placed in my story and my life. And yet, he’s the one that is more chalk full of questions in my life than anyone else.


When I first got here, I struggled with the new reality in his life that I stepped into. The reality of him being HIV+ and deaf was something that I was already aware of and walking through. I had prayed for him, fasted for his healing out of a deep love that was new and revolutionary to me. As I moved to Moshi, I was happy to be with him now and fully prepared to continue to battle for him and love him with all that I’ve got. I was and still am assured of his coming healing. But the new reality was that he was going to start out at a new school in Kiboroloni, a school for the deaf. I, and the rest of his family at TOA, would only see him on the weekends. I wasn’t as prepared for that. And that went on for a year, until I then left him for six months at the start of 2011. That time in the states was right in step with what God had for me as I did the best thing since I gave my heart to the Lord, I married my best friend. Nonetheless, I didn’t see Awadhi for a long time. On coming back in July, he had come off another poor performing semester at school and the school asked to keep him on the weekends, so he now only comes home to TOA once a month on the week he has to go to the hospital for his HIV appointment. 


And now, as Melissa and I joyfully look forward to the birth of our baby, I, now we, once again are forced to leave Awadhi for a time longer than the previous six months last year. 


Questions. Where to start? 


Why hasn’t he been healed yet? Why haven’t we adopted him? With the restrictive Tanzanian law in mind, is adoption even possible? Why is he performing so poorly in school? What does he think of when he’s with me? What does he think of me and Melissa when he’s at school? What did he think about the six months that he didn’t see me and I came back with Melissa? What will he think when we leave and come back a while later with a baby? How does he see us? What are we to him truly? What does he believe about God? 


I don’t know.


It’s a humbling confession to make. I can come up with something eloquent about how being born of the spirit is more important than being born in flesh and blood, which is true. I can say something about trusting God with Awadhi, which I do. I can talk about the bright side of being in the states for a while instead of being home in Tanzania. I could say a lot cheerful things. I, indeed, have so much to be thankful for and I am. I’m thankful for my wife, she’s amazing. I’m incredibly excited for the birth of our child and look forward to sharing that experience with friends and family in California. All of this is true and I’d be remiss to not mention it.


But, I believe I have something to learn here in the midst of the questions. Not only about Awadhi, not only about the precious little one that’s going to show up in September, but about life and why things go the way things go. 


I recently read “Erasing Hell” by Francis Chan and the number one thing that I walked away with from that book is that God is higher. The way that He does things is higher than I can imagine, I can’t understand it. I’m the pot. Compare the knowledge of the pot to the knowledge of the Potter who made it. He does things in a way that I wouldn’t do them. This isn’t to demean our existence or the image in which He created us, but its rather to exalt Him as Creator.


“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, 
Nor are your ways My ways, says the Lord.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways higher that your ways, 
And My thoughts than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8-9 


God is good. We thank Him for this coming season of life and for the gift of this little one, as well for the gift of having Awadhi in our life. 


At the same time, life is tough to make sense of sometimes, increasingly so I’m finding in my own life. There are questions, so many stinking questions. Questions that I don’t have the foggiest answer to, other than to say that God is God. His ways and His thoughts are higher, for this we give praise.

Belief and Unbelief

I shared on Wednesday during the morning devotional time at TOA about a miracle that Jesus performed in Mark 9. There is a man who has a son who is deaf, dumb and has frequent seizures. It is a spiritually related illness that had nearly cost him his life time after time. The father brings his son forth and asks Jesus to heal him. He tells Jesus what the problem is and that it has been happening since the boy’s childhood (implying that he’s no longer a child - so it must have been a long time). Jesus tells him that “all things are possible to him who believes.” And in completely honest fashion, the man says to Jesus, “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief!” I encouraged those at devotional that this prayer is good. Jesus doesn’t rebuke him and say its not enough belief or faith. He heals his son. Elsewhere Jesus says that faith the size of a mustard seed is enough to toss a mountain into the ocean. So just because the father had some unbelief, what he did believe was enough.


That’s what I taught and am being challenged in myself. 


Last week, Melissa and I came to a point of high frustration with Awadhi’s situation. I have been praying for him and his healing for nearly four years now and his situation hasn’t gotten any better. It, in fact, appears worse. We don’t get to see him often because of his boarding school schedule, it appears we aren’t eligible to adopt him (nor do we have the money to if we were) and he’s still HIV+ and deaf. My parents were asking us about him today and I really don’t have much to say. I can’t say that there’s much good news or a positive change. That doesn’t appear to be the case and we are profoundly frustrated. Needless to say, I can relate to the father from the story.


Beyond that, things are difficult for me and Melissa here. There’s a song by Jim Croce* and its called “The Hard Way Every Time.” He talks about how he’s been through so much and realized that he’s done life the hard way with every decision. But he gets to the end of the song and says that he wouldn’t have done it any other way. I listened to that song and it resonated with me. As a bright eyed, bushy haired Christian back in SoCal, I said that I would do things the hard way a time ago and now we find ourselves in our first year of marriage on the mission field. Its nuts. Furthermore, this is Melissa’s first term as a long-term missionary, which for every single missionary brings about so many other difficulties. We’ve been getting hit from every side. Socially its hard, because of all the friends and family that we left to be here and the process of cultivating friendships here. Financially its been difficult, because half of our income has been going to our student loans and even if they weren’t there it would still be tight. Spiritually, its been difficult we don’t understand what He’s up to and its hard to rest in His will when things are so crazy around us. And of course each of those areas have a significant impact on our emotional lives. All of the madness is enough to truly discourage us and leave us wondering if this is how it is supposed to be. 


I’m not so crazy about the hard way these days; the romance of it has worn off and this post will prove insufficient to capture all that’s going on over here. Just know that its hard and its trying, leaving us tired and often discouraged. 


Its times like these when the prayer of the father in Mark is all I’ve got. I daresay that I still believe. Indeed, I still believe. I believe the Lord and for the unbelief that has been mixed in, I ask for His help. I believe that I was called here, that Melissa was called here, that God has set Awadhi aside for His glory and that His purpose will unfold in Awadhi’s life. I still believe that Awadhi will be healed, just like the man’s son in the story. If Jesus can heal a deaf and dumb, demon-possessed epileptic child, He can heal our deaf and HIV+ child.  


God is big and He can handle any struggle that we’re having. He can take a little faith, a mixed bag of belief and unbelief and perform miracles. He is able, for this we give praise. 


*Yes, I listen to Jim Croce. If you think that‘s funny or weird, then Jim Croce is too good for your iPod

Romance

I’m a fraud. Consider this my confession to the brethren. This development has been largely unintentional. For the most part, I haven’t meant to put forth such a façade. I feel that people have reached their own assumptions from one source or another about the kind of life that I live and I feel I ought to tell you the view’s probably a bit off. Undoubtedly, I, at times, have perpetuated this perception by the power of my own vanity and adolescent self-interest. For that I apologize. Allow me to divulge…

Last week, as is the normal 21st-century custom, I wrote on an old friend’s Facebook profile on his birthday. He was one of my closest friends in junior high, but I haven’t seen him in several years. My comment was simple enough, nothing flashy. The following day he commented on the post and told me that I am the “most bad-a** friend" that he has. Not a compliment that I get everyday. He then told me that he’s praying for me. I thanked him for that. His compliment certainly didn’t offend me, its quite hard to do that and when I was younger I said far worse. It just makes me laugh as I reflect on the life that I live. He clearly meant it in a good way, but it made me think about the perception that people have of me.

Submission

You know the Bible is not a random book. And all those little tidbits of “advice” that you find in there aren’t random either. The Holy Spirit used some forty odd writers and delivered God’s very word to us, He then enlightens us to understanding and we figure out how we’re supposed to live this life. Sometimes you can read things in there and they can be a bit hard to swallow, or you’ll want to soften it with some poor interpretation of the scripture. Well, I’ve been learning more and more about one of those such things.

Submission is something that is in many ways a hot button topic in the Church. It plays a role in various topics from gender and church leadership to marriage and government authorities. The Bible is certainly not silent about the topic and it wouldn’t take a long look through the holy book to come across its reference in some fashion.

Plans

“A man’s heart plans his way; But the Lord directs his steps” Proverbs 16:9

A seemingly common thing that Lydia and I have discussed both in regards to my time at TOA as well as the concept in general is that we as people love to try and figure things out in our heads. We love to plan and scheme and think how we’ll get ourselves in this position and then we can perform this task and so on. Perhaps one of the biggest things that living in Tanzania is teaching me, is that doing that is quite useless.

There was a time in my life when I was planning. I was planning a lot of things. I had one year left at Vanguard and I had a plan, a pretty good one I thought. I loved living in southern California, I loved working with kids, I loved my current schooling, I loved the girl I was a dating. Taking all those things, I came up with a good plan. I would finish my schooling, get engaged, get my teaching credential, get married, start teaching and settle down in sunny southern California. I planned from my heart, then the Lord directed me elsewhere.

Fighting

I find myself in an interesting spot of my life and an interesting spot of my first year on the missionary field. Its quite unique and I can honestly say that I’ve never been in any situation like this one.

The Lord has done an incredible amount of drastic life changing experiences over the last two months. As I sat at my house in February, March and April writhing from loneliness some of the time, I dreamed about all that would take place over the coming summer. Ryan would have all these teams come out and more importantly his interns; I would have a group of friends actually close to my age. Eventually, Melissa was on board to come out and help at Global-EFFECT and that led to a whole new level of dreaming, knowing that she was feeling called to TOA and could potentially be that one woman I’ve been waiting for. Then the second half of May came, the NMC team came with my friend Tyler, then the VU team with my friend Denny and the first intern Dalila, then Nick and Taylor came out, then the Lord put India on my heart, then Melissa and Kelli came, then I realized the magnitude of what God was doing in my relationship with Melissa, then I got engaged (a month ago today), then Melissa left, then I left for Asia, then I had an amazing and anointed time there. And now I’m back. The summer is so officially over, its not funny at all.

Ideal

Awadhi had his “birthday” on the 8th of May. I put quotations because like all our children, we don’t have a birth certificate for him and “official” paperwork is often conflicting. Nonetheless, his celebrated birthday came around and now he’s “six” (he’s probably still five). We celebrated for him like we do for all our children, singing to him, a dessert of some sort and a prayer of blessing. We did it at lunch time and after that Lydia, Jodie and I went towards Arusha to see off a team that had been serving with Hidden With Christ. As the team took off for the airport, Lydia and I lingered and watched the wild animals that they kept at the resort/restaurant. I was reflecting on Awadhi’s birthday and thinking of my birthdays growing up and how starkly they differ. It just felt off. I was relating this to Lyd and she began to tell me how the Lord has taught her over the years how His ways are higher. She said how we do things in the states is not the ideal either and things are just different when God orchestrates them. I agree and am finding that out more and more as I live here.

Can you imagine a world that wasn’t fallen? Its quite mind blowing. No death, no sickness, no fatherless children, no poverty and so forth. In my reflection of working at TOA, I realize more and more that these kids need a father. Nonetheless, my coming here and adding a father hasn’t made the situation ideal. The Lord designed children to be in families: father, mother and children. That was what He designed when He created Adam and Eve and told them to be fruitful and multiply. Nonetheless, sin did enter the world and humans continue to choose it over the loving God that wants to restore His creation.

I suppose at this point a person would think a Treasure’s ideal situation would be to be adopted. Although, if this were a perfect world, orphans wouldn’t even exist in the first place and adoption wouldn’t exist either. There are some children’s homes and babies’ homes here that pursue adoption for their kids. For us its not something that we pursue. We are certainly not opposed to it and have had kids adopted out of TOA, but its not something where we are constantly trying to find adopting parents.

Impact

I came here for a reason. Every American missionary that comes to Tanzania comes for a reason. If you come for short-term or for long-term you are looking for an impact, either in your personal life or that of another person.

Ryan is hosting a two week team from Newport Mesa Church (NMC) right now and its been a blessing to hang out with them a few days of their stay here. Earlier today they came over to TOA to play with the kids. They came around 2:30 in the afternoon and came upstairs to the education room where I had six kids on the computers and the rest playing ESL Bingo with me shouting out the words. We welcomed them in and the leader was asking me questions about what the education room was about and what we do with the kids. As the Education Director (such an impressive title right?), I was pleased to fill him in. This is one of the ways that I came here to impact the kids.

Far more than that, I have come here to be a father to these children. Eli is an amazing father to the kids and I couldn’t over exaggerate his imperative role at TOA and each of the kids lives. Nonetheless, he is one man and they are twenty-six children. We have a couple other men who play roles in their lives, a cleaner and driver for us Baba Pendo and one of our guards Arnold who they call “Uncle.” But even with a good father and a couple good uncles, they are still twenty-six children. So the Lord called me here to be another big part of their life as their father. Far and away, that is the most important reason I came here. I remember a man at language school, a good guy here making an impact, asking me if I considered myself to be the education director or a father foremost and I firmly answered a father. I could tell he was skeptical as he said “hmm… I wonder how that will affect your work” or something to that effect. Education is so important and good education will positively effect Africa. I value education (enough for me to spend four years in college getting a degree in it.) But this nation doesn’t reek with lack of education half as bad as it reeks of fatherlessness.

The Lord showed me something a couple months ago as I went to pick Awadhi up from school. I was thinking about how frustrating it is that despite me being here, the Lord hasn’t healed Awadhi and because of that he has to go to a boarding school Monday through Friday. Until the Lord releases whoever is anointed for Awadhi’s healing, there isn’t a thing that I can do other than pray and wait. I can’t just heal my son, or at least not yet. My son lacks. He lacks HIV- blood which causes him to need to take a lot of medicine just to allow him to be the active boy that he is. He lacks the sense of hearing that keeps him from hearing music, holding normal conversations and causes him to have to go to a special school out in Kiboroloni. But the Lord showed me the importance of this, there is one thing that he doesn’t lack now that I’m here. He no longer lacks a father. Love is most important. My son is loved and he knows it. You should see us together, we’re adorable. Awadhi isn’t yet healed physically, but he has the most beautiful spirit and I know that the Lord is doing something because of the fatherly love that I show towards him. That’s an impact.

Like every other American Christian my age “I have a heart for Africa.” I’m about as trendy as you can get, I actually live here (I don’t know how facetiousness comes across in blogs). I don’t really like generalities. People ask me from time to time “how’s Africa?” and I’m like “Overall, I have no idea, its kind of big and I only live in one city. How‘s North America?” When I lived in Costa Mesa, friends from Paso would ask me “how’s LA?” and I was like “if I lived there I’d tell you.” Pet peeve? Labda. Nonetheless, its hard for me to say that I have a heart for Africa or that I am called to make an impact in Africa. I believe a ripple effect could take place that would reach the whole continent, but I’m called to be the most loving father and impact the child that the Lord places in front of me. As far as Africa goes, the first time the Lord called me here in June 2007 he said “Go run an orphanage in Africa.” So yeah he started off general, but it took literally two days before He put Tanzania in front of me and its been all about my country ever since.

Why did I write the last paragraph? I don’t know. But I do know this, that young people in the states want to make an impact and often say they “have a heart for Africa.” I don’t want to discredit that, because the Lord may be doing something in you. As I talked about a few blogs ago, that must go deeper than buying a t-shirt (I’m kind of big on this taking legitimate action if you haven’t noticed). And this doesn’t have to be strictly about Africa, I have friends the Lord has called to missions in South America, Asia, wherever. I can’t say enough about prayer for these things. And praying for specificity is what I’m getting at here. If you are feeling called to make an impact somewhere, ask Him where, ask Him what to do, ask Him how long. He has something specific in mind, so go after that and move in faith towards it, step by step.

One of those steps is often short-term trips. I was a short-term missionary to Tanzania twice before I moved here and they‘ve played a role in my life here. I’ve heard from missions minded people that short-term missions are actually quite ineffective in the long run for the countries in which they serve. I can see that, but I don’t totally subscribe to it because I think the Lord can use all such things. I know the team that came here for Hidden With Christ a couple weeks ago had a good impact and were a blessing. I also think about my team from a couple years ago and have good memories of what the Lord did in each of us. Like I mentioned in last week’s rundown, the first teammate of mine from that team just returned to Tanzania (Tyler). I’ve shown some of the kids pictures from that trip and asked them if they remember the people. Of all the kids that I’ve asked only Innocent and Ray have said that they remember anyone from that team (other than me, I am their father and all). They do remember the interns from that summer, likewise they remember Ann who interned with me last summer, but most of my kids don’t remember most of the people from that team. Its not a harsh thing, it just is what it is. They’ll probably forget the AIM team that was here in March, the team that was here a couple weeks ago. Those faces get replaced with the new faces of whatever visitors come through the gate next. Nonetheless, an impact happened because of my team in the summer of 2008. As cliché as it is to say, the team was more impacted by the kids, then the other way around. It was a good thing and far from anything to be ashamed of.

So how do we make an impact? I’m not trying to say that everyone that comes here on short-term trips needs to just move here to be legit. That’s not it. Its just that the short-term trip is often (not always) not enough if you want to make a lasting impact. I met with this NMC team back in the fall as I was preparing for my return here and what I told them was what I’m telling you now. If you want to make a lasting impact, make the two week or two month stay about more than just a two week or two month stay. Prepare yourself with prayer and I don’t mean just praying the Lord prepares you, but pray for the people, pray that the Lord works in their lives, related and unrelated to your short term mission. Pray for them afterwards. Send them support money and supplies, before and after the trip. We’re blessed by Tyler because he has sponsored Jerry for over two years. Prayerfully consider if the Lord is calling you long-term. I was talking with one of the guys from the team today and he told me that he feels the Lord may be calling him here long-term, which is so sweet. Only problem is he’s a dude and I’m looking for a wife. Awkward to say? Labda. But just so you short-termers know, us single long-termers expect you to come here and marry us. Desperate plea aside… I’ll be frank with you, if you are only interested in seeing a new part of the world and experiencing new things, call it what it is, a vacation your family gets a tax write off for. But if you want to advance the kingdom in whatever way He calls you, then come out we’d love to facilitate your mission.

We are called to make an impact in the nations, specifically to preach the gospel and make disciples. According to the great commission, the impact is supposed to take place in every nation and according to the Holy Spirit working your life, its supposed to take place in the nation that He is calling you to. When the rubber hits the road, fulfilling this commission is a multi-faceted thing to follow through on. Nonetheless, the need to make an impact, whether it be California or Africa, is a calling on the life of every follower. Let this be an encouragement to you to seek the Lord in each nation that He calls you to. It would be awful to look back and realized He had you somewhere and you didn’t fulfill what He wanted to do there. Far more than that we do it because it shows Him love. He is worthy of every nation and it is our delight to impact them and bring them to the Father, for this we give praise.

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The Rundown: A fairly normal week. Its weird not having Jodie around with her being on furlough, but we’re getting along. I think Jubee misses her. Its been cool to hang out with the NMC team a few times this week. They are good people and I look forward to them leading at church tomorrow at ICC. Small group on Wednesday was good. We are going through a series on the life of David and its lead to good conversations. Thursday night worship was really rad. The NMC team was there (16 people I think) plus a couple New Life short-term volunteers plus a handful of American long-termers and it was definitely the biggest crowd I’ve seen there for worship. Funny to think that sometimes its just me, Ryan and Alice. I played a ridiculous amount of soccer today with the team being at TOA which was so much fun. Overall, things are great. Alright, AMANI!

Persistence

This is a little cheap. Okay, just so you know before you continue with the blog, I want you to know that there is the slightest bit of me that is being lazy in what I’m about to talk about. The Lord has been teaching me something over the last little while and I’ve turned it into a sermon. I delivered that sermon at Pastor Unity’s church on Sunday. I then used the same material in a short devotional at TOA on Wednesday morning. I’ll be preaching on it at a my church tomorrow. A couple hours ago, I didn’t know what to write on so I went with this. I’ll be a little like Rob Bell. Not like having hip haircuts and sprinkling a little heresy and weird analogies in my teaching, but rather if you’ve heard me teach, then my writing is pretty much the same stuff, just like his Noomas and sermons are the same as his books. If this repetition in anyway makes you feel cheap, I’m sorry. Please feel free to not read any further. My feelings won’t be hurt. I imagine most people that “read” my blog don’t make it past the first paragraph anyway.

Disclaimer aside, there is this passage in Luke 11 that seems a little odd to me. Sometimes, I hear a story that Jesus tells and I’m just like “huh?” This is one such passage. One night, a guy comes to his friend and asks for some bread. The friend tells him to take a hike, because him and the fam are already in bed (I’m paraphrasing of course, that’s okay though, Eugene Peterson paraphrased the whole Bible and everyone loves that). The dude doesn’t leave, but keeps asking. Jesus explains that it is because of his persistence that the friend will get up and hook him up with the bread. And what do we learn? If you bug your friends enough, you’ll ware them out and get what you want. Right?

Jesus goes on to teach the famous “ask, seek, knock” passage, to which everyone that wants a new car says “amen!” Not quite. This passage always seems to befuddle me a little. I remember thinking about this passage and continually asking the Lord for a particular thing that was very important and very big. It never happened and barring a miracle that is way overdue, it won’t ever happen. I’m okay with that, but it makes the passage a little confusing.

My Kids

I have a wonderful calling. Praise God. I’ll try not to brag, but I love my life, I love my “job,” I love my family. I have wonderful kids, you should meet them. I don’t love not seeing so many loved ones in the states, I don’t love many aspects of living in Tanzania and I don’t love not having In’n’Out, Wahoo’s, Chipotle, microwaveable food, or good old mom’s cooking, but I moved here for a reason and I love that.

Its easy to get bogged down in things and lose focus on the ‘why’ of all those menial things. I do them because I love my kids. I get headaches doing the books, I get frustrated with the ultra bureaucratic government and I miss so much of my Californian culture and all the bells and whistles it has, but you know what? Its all worth it. It is absolutely worth it.

Yesterday the Adventures in Missions short termers came to TOA one last time. Before they left, they pulled Lydia, Jodie and me aside just to say thank you, give us a gift and pray for us. One of them, Halley, talked about how out of all the places she’s been, Tanzania has been her favorite and that was TOA was a big reason for that. Lydia told them thank you for coming and seeing how amazing our kids are. She said we already know they’re amazing, so thanks for coming and seeing too. I was like, yeah, our kids are amazing. And yeah, they’re our kids, which means they’re my kids.

The Lord did something special for me and put a passion in me for these kids. And I thank Him so much for that. Its been almost two years since I first came to Tanzania and to Treasures of Africa. Do you know how many foreigners, especially Americans, have come through TOA during that time for short term trips, visits and the like? A lot. Like a lot a lot. Do you know how many went on to move here and/or work here? One.*1 Thank you, Jesus for Your favor. The kids have forgotten the majority of those people, but they know, like really know, their Baba Brandon, or Baba Bran, or Baba Bra, or Baba Ben, or my personal favorite, compliments of Maria, Baba Ben-ooo. (As common as Brandon is in the states, it kills the Tanzanian tongue.)

I first came on a team in 2008, not unlike these AIM short termers that just left. Everyone on that team fell in love to one degree or another with one child or another or several. I fell in love with Awadhi first and went on to fall in love with the others as well. Those friends are great and I still stay in contact with some of them, but they haven’t been back, for one reason or another. (Although I am looking forward to a couple of them coming back to Moshi soon). And that's totally fine, the Lord's been doing other things with them, but I couldn’t not come back. I had to be with my kids. I told Ryan before I left that I would be back the next year for a longer time. By God’s grace, that happened. And even more by God’s grace, He led His servant Rita to offer me a position at TOA and in the words of John Madden… BOOM! I see my kids everyday.

For several years now, I’ve worked with kids. When I was previously working for the city more than anywhere else, I called the kids at Victoria Elementary, where I worked Monday through Friday, “my kids.” But I also had “my kids” at Rock Harbor, “my kids” at Pacific Pointe, eventually “my kids” at The Garden and Precious Lambs and so on. Those kids were so great and I miss many of them. This is a whole new level though. I see these kids everyday. They call me “father.” I can pick them up and hug, kiss and cuddle and no parent is going to come in and file a lawsuit. Why? Because they are MY kids.

I love hearing Lydia, Eli and Jodie tell stories about the kids and praise God, I’ve begun to build up my own repertoire. Over dinner on Monday, I was able to tell a couple stories of the kids in the preschool and it was really nice to just have our guests attention as they were so into hearing about my kids. What dad doesn’t love to tell stories about his kids? In my natural mind, I think about how I just got here, I didn’t get to know the kids well from short term trips and I’ve missed most of their lives. I couldn’t possibly know them and what kind of dad is only “getting to know” his kids? But the truth is that my dad has known me for nearly 24 years and does he know me completely? No. He knows me, but he’s still getting to know me. That’s where I am with my 26 kids, I know them and I’m getting to know them. You want to know how well I know them?

I know that Lucy has the cutest dimples in the world and in spite of all the words she doesn’t know in English, she does know “dimples.” I know that Innocent will cross you up if you’re playing soccer against him. I know Moses will change the world. I know that Margaret has a unique and beautiful voice and I appreciate her leading in worship. I know that Tina has no shame in farting on me as she sits on my lap. I know that Jerry is cute, funny, sweet and when all else fails he picks up the “creepy kid” slack. I know that Maria emphasizes things in the cutest way. I know that Benny is a young man of integrity and is picking up guitar very fast. I know that Witness is shy at first, but as you get to know her she has an amazingly sweet spirit. I know that Maggie is in second grade and already needs deodorant. I know Sam is capable of messing up and doing something stupid, but has even more capacity to follow the Lord be used by Him. I know that Justina is the funniest kid that I’ve ever met and you will not cease laughing once she becomes comfortable with you. I know that when Zoe is scared or hurt, she’ll come and crawl up in my arms. I know that Antoni mumbles. I know that Doreen has a very caring and affectionate personality. I know that Diamond has the most delightful laugh and does it far more than the average child. And so on.

Yeah, and then there’s Awadhi. We’ll just say that I know him.

It may look different traditionally, but I’m a father. By God’s grace, I have kids. I keep pictures of them on my iPod (they don‘t all fit in my wallet). I talk about them when they’re not around. I write about them in blogs to people who’ve never met them. I pray for them. I hug them. I joke with them. I laugh with them. I died to a great life in California to be with them because I love them. Praise our Father for His kindness towards me. Thank you Lord.


*1 Warren and Christina were here for a year, but I don’t know if they came on a short term trip previously. Since Autumn, the Lord has kept them in the states for family reasons. Yay I get to be business manager!

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The Rundown: I always think of things to update people on throughout the week and when I sit down to write, I just say “the week is good, that’s all.” Alright, Brandon, think, give the people some meat. Hmm… oh yeah! I killed a lion on Wednesday! … no, I didn’t. I live in Africa and I’ve never killed a lion, I’m so not legit. Well, it is rain season. Yesterday as I was driving home, my piki got stuck in the mud. Luckily, I was close to my house and my guard Dao saw me so he came and helped me get it out. Last Friday, Lydia and Jodie got me tortillas and salsa from Arusha and I’ve been enjoying quesadillas the last week. Its so great! I put salami in them and I don’t know if that’s normal, but it’s the closest to Mexican food I get around here. The AIM team did leave and my first time being the long term missionary around the short term missionaries was a pleasant experience. I’ll miss them, especially because they were my age and that was really my first time hanging out with a group of people close to my age since I left Long Beach. They’re off to Asia. The next two weeks, all the kids will be out of school so I’ll be ultra busy doing extra English, computer, art and music on top of all the normal preschool, English and bookkeeping stuff. Pray for me and more importantly pray that we make the most of our precious time with the kids. I went to Pastor Mbasha’s church today and it was so good to be back there with baba and his congregation. I never cease to be amazed at the beauty of their worship there. When I was sharing greetings and testimony, I was able to speak in Swahili as well and they were pretty excited to hear a mzungu speaking their language. Also today, the new family moved into the new house, I had met the man, Herbert, last Sunday but now they’re all moving in. They seem very nice and I look forward to getting to know them. Alright, that’s it.

Moshi Brandon

They (whoever they are) say that after five months on the field, a missionary goes through a bit of a culture shock or a season where they are a little more sad and frustrated. I know of friends that have gone through seasons like that while they’ve been here. This is the best explanation I’ve got for what’s going on right now. Yay, for being a textbook!

Granted, I haven’t been here for five months (consecutively), but between an introductory two weeks in 2008, a normal life type of two months over this last summer and being here a month and a half now, maybe somehow that’s accumulated and now, I’m in a little bit of a head funk or emotion funk or whatever (and if this isn’t that, I’m in for something special come May).

This makes it entirely frustrating to write, even though I want to write. Maybe I just love getting comments on my page, seldom as they may be. I don’t even know if anyone reads this. If I write a blog in the forest and no one reads it, does it make a difference, at all? Just joking, but I really do appreciate those people that take a moment to comment or email me (side note). Throughout the week, I think of like five different titles and topics for my blog. I’ve got some doozies in the oven, let me tell you. I’ve been thinking of one called “Poem” for a while, last night I started writing one titled “Possibility,” and the list could go on. This one, I didn’t title at the start. I just wrote an introductory sentence talking about how I have no idea what I’m about to write (it was deleted upon revision).

If there were one prayer request for me personally, it would be for thought and emotional clarity. My internal life has never been so ambiguous and I’m an introvert, a very pensive man, but I feel like in the times that I just stop and spend sometime trying to organize my thoughts, I make no headway. To be honest, I don’t even know if I’m sad, maybe I’ve never been happier. I just can’t make sense of anything (which maybe adds to my cynicism exampled in the previous paragraph, sorry).

Lydia said something last week that scared me a little. She talked about how she is not the same person that she was when she was in the states. That inevitably will happen to me as well, and I believe its already begun. I think about Long Beach, that amazing, yet brief season. I liked myself in Long Beach. Paso Robles Brandon is too immature and Costa Mesa Brandon has too much baggage, but Long Beach Brandon, yeah I wouldn’t mind being that guy for awhile. Children’s Pastor, Life Group Leader, the guy that loves to just go to Portfolio and write or get coffee with a friend and talk about the Lord. Hmm, good times.

And yet I would rather be here in Moshi, but I’m not as fond of myself here or maybe I just miss my community and family back in the states, which undoubtedly plays some role in all of this. In Long Beach, I felt more like I really had something to impart to The Garden, to the people, to those friends in Orange County I would still see regularly. Here, I know, but I don’t know. These kids need a father, but this isn’t the way that I envisioned it. I think of my dad, good memories as a child growing up even up til my visit there a couple months ago. He’s a dad. How can I be a dad, when we don’t even largely speak the same language? Yes, they call me “baba,” but that’s also very cultural. I call men older than me on the street “baba” because that’s what you do here. Yes they love me and I them, but its like I get here and they’ve lived basically their whole lives without me in it. I’m their father? There’s more to being a dad then this and I just pray that the Lord will show me what that looks like, because this is entirely different from what I would think of as normal.

To end abruptly...

I appreciate your prayers so much, equally so the emails of encouragement. Thank you for being my family and spending part of your day reading. Please do keep me in your prayers. I am so blessed to be right where Jesus wants me, the hardest place there is to be. As I was telling my friend Melissa the other day, being a full-time, long-term missionary and feeling the gravity of such an undertaking is a whole other ballgame from short-term missions. This of course adds to the difficulty and that’s why I appreciate your support so much. I bless you in the name of the Lord.

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The Rundown: This week has been good. I started some of the ESL and art programs at TOA, which has been fun. Its all a work in progress, but I prayerfully trust that its making a difference. The bookkeeping is coming along too. The Lord’s grace is sufficient for that. Its been nice to know that I’m doing something that Lyd would normally have to do and it takes a little off her plate and keeps our books up to date weekly as opposed to monthly. The preschool is going well. Jeremiah, or JerrBear, or Pinoche, or Stevie, or simply Jerry (I have many nicknames for him) will be starting at his special day school this week so we’re down to seven kids. Its been a joy to work with Grace and I think we’re starting to settle into the changes I’ve made. The kids are well, although you can pray for our second grader Sam. He’s a good kid that we love, but he’s made some bad decisions (like kids do) and he’s on ultra groundation. Pray that the Lord would be speaking and ministering righteousness to him. Other than that, things have been normal. Tuesday discipleship and Thursday worship with Ryan was good. Let’s see what else, oh, right when I was getting used to my new beard trimmer and really liking it, it broke on me a week ago. So I leave you with this final prayer request, pray that I can find a trimmer before I turn into Grizzly Adams.

Living Life

Saturday night. I’m at home. The electricity has been out most the day and it is coming and going right now. Another chill night alone in the Stiver residence. I got a case of peanut butter chest thanks to my dinner. Just finished winning my 30th straight FreeCell game on my laptop. That’s right, Brandon Stiver, missionary and FreeCell extraordinare. I tried to take a picture but taking a picture of small print on a laptop screen doesn’t quite work. Sitting in my favorite chair, listening to Matthew Mayfield, enjoying his raspy voice and trying to not let it lull me into a nighttime depression.

This is my life. Its nothing glamorous. Not particularly romantic. At times its beautiful and at times I sit in my living room eating oatmeal in my underwear.

I wish that I could tell you how I “feel.” The truth is I’ve been on a bit of an emotional hiatus since December 8th. Completely unintentional and entirely frustrating. I haven’t been crying like I regularly do, my mind has got four thousand and eighty six things on it and my words can’t articulate the surface of my emotional ambiguity from moment to moment. I’ll try simple words for now. Right now, I’m at peace. Not sad, not lonely, not exuberant, I just am.