Something Big

The more I talk to people that are around my age, the more I hear their passion and how they feel that the Lord is going to do “something big” with their lives to advance His Kingdom. “Well, right now I flip burgers at In’n’Out (oh, how I miss that place), but I feel like the Lord is going to use me to preach around the world… or I want to start a homeless shelter… or I want run an orphanage… or I want to (fill in the blank)”

I think about this and it seems to be that one of two things are happening. Either one, it is a perfectly normal thing that happens when people are in there twenties and at some point they’ll stumble across a good paying job, fall in love, get married and live a “normal” life, which is sweet and option one. Or two, there is something special about my generation (as opposed to The Who’s generation) and we’re going to move the world in unheard of and radical ways for Christ.

I like to look at the people in the Bible and see how they served the Lord. Each one is so unique. Paul was an anointed preacher, writer and theologian and the Lord used him to add many people to the His family. There has never been another Paul, but some people have walked in a similar anointing and calling in their lives. Same with Peter, Moses and David. People that have these amazing roles in the story of God. They are righteous leaders that the Lord used in amazing ways.

It is my firm belief that the Lord wants to use every single person in big ways. “Big” can of course look very different from person to person and calling to calling. I named some of the more renowned leaders in the Bible, but there were other people that the Lord used in huge ways. Think about Noah, he loved the Lord, and God told him to build a boat, a really big boat, but a boat all the same. In faith, Noah did what the Lord asked him to do, the Lord brought animals and it led to the preservation of mankind. Or Nehemiah, he was an anointed leader, but it looked totally different. He motivated and led the demoralized Israelites to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. He was a builder, previously a cupbearer. Not a king, not a prophet, not a priest. The Lord used him tremendously all the same. How about Mary? She is so admired throughout the Christian eras. What did she do? She was faithful to the Lord and what He told her to do. She did “something big” for one Person and that one Person went on to pay the price and overcome death on behalf of all of humankind.

There are people that the Lord uses to run these huge orphanages and they positively affect the lives of so many African children. Praise God for that its Him using them in their something big. We have 26 kids right now. Our something big is blessing the children He gives us. At the end of Crazy Love, Francis Chan tells the story of a woman who came to Tanzania for a short term deal, but was so moved by the poverty and devastation here that she had to do “something big” for someone. So she delayed her return home, until she, a young single woman, could adopt one child and do “something big” for that one person.

No matter the calling, these people had one thing in common… obedience. The Lord chose them and their calling. Think about how each of these Bible people came to the Lord. Paul killed Christians and Jesus appeared to him on a road and soon began obedience to Him. Peter a lowly fisherman obeyed Jesus’ simple words “follow me.” Moses was just an old dude chillin’ in the desert and the Lord spoke to Him as a burning bush and told him what to do, Moses, somewhat reluctantly, obeyed Him. David, the youngest son, a mere shepherd. Mary, a teenager. You catch my drift. Each person had a humble background and the Lord chose for them to do “something big” in myriad ways. In the same way, you aren’t too old, too young, too married, too single, too settled into your job, too whatever to have God do something big through you.

We have a boy named Raymond. I love Ray so much. He is an amazing nine year old. Ray is an orphan in one of the poorest nations in the world. You know what though? He believes in God and he believes that God can do anything. You know what Ray wants to do? He wants to become an advisor to the president of Tanzania. He is in fourth grade and that’s what is on his heart. The Tanzanian government is an incredibly corrupt entity, having a godly man advising the president could help change the course of the entire nation. We pray that Ray continues to walk in the ways of the Lord and trust that as He does, the Lord will do something big through him.

For Ray and for anyone, it’ll take obedience. So Ray tries hard in school. He gave me a stack of his recent exams so we can track how he does and help him achieve his education. Ray practices his English and is excelling past even some of the kids that are older than him. Ray will have to continue to walk in obedience until he is able to sit next to the president and advise him in the ways of righteousness.

I’ve started something big with my life. I don’t say that in pride. This is what the Lord has called me to and if anything it is humbling, both in position and process. The Lord told me to “go run an orphanage in Africa.” Two months ago, I took a huge-mongous step towards doing just that. I had to wait two and a half years, before I was released to tangibly start that and it was the hardest period of my life. I had to choose many times if I was going to obey Him or abandon the “big” thing. Not necessarily obey or abandon God Himself, but rather what He told me to do. By God’s grace, I’m writing this blog from Tanzania. Returning to the states back in August was my final reminder that I didn’t have to come back to Africa, that I could settle for that normal life, which still included following the Lord in normal things and maintaining the right theology, but I wanted to follow God in the big things He had specifically for me as well.

The obedience doesn’t start with the big thing, it starts before. God didn’t tell me to go run an orphanage in Africa and the next day there was a ticket to Kilimanjaro International in my mailbox. That’d be like God telling Noah to build the ark right when it started raining. I’m waiting to see if my generation is going to collectively do “something big.” I know this much though, if we can’t be obedient with the things he gives us as we’re flipping burgers and waiting, He’s not going to give anyone an orphanage, a podium or a shelter. And as we flip those burgers in the name of Jesus, we are praying and fasting for the big thing. I haven’t “arrived” by any means and I myself need to be faithful and obedient as Education/Business Director before the Lord will give me my own orphanage to run in His name.

Lastly, a word of warning and a heads up, just in case anybody reads this and wants to drive straight to Mexico and try to get a center for street children started. When I said “praying and fasting for the big thing” I meant just that. If we don’t continue to communicate with the Caller about the calling, it won’t work. If He has you waiting first and you spend that time sitting on your hands as opposed to kneeling in prayer, it may not even happen at all. That’s the warning. The heads up is that its going to be inexplicably hard. I was this close (I just stopped typing and held my index finger and thumb an inch apart) to writing about how incredibly frustrating a couple days this week were. Like new levels of frustration, nearly debilitating. If you are on the narrow path that is marked with suffering and you find it easy, I have one of two hypotheses for you, either you aren’t doing enough for His Kingdom (no matter where you are) or you’re not doing it right. If the Lord has released you to a season of rest, praise Him for that and walk in it for the time period. But those are only seasons and having one assumes that it was sandwiched between two seasons of actively advancing the Kingdom on Earth.

In all things, we give Him praise that He uses us in every big and small way to bless the people in the world and exalt Him wherever He has us.

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The Rundown: This week has been up and down. Wednesday and Thursday morning were very frustrating and I sent a nice long email to my prayer list (let me know if you want on that) talking about some of the things that were going on. Know that all your prayers are appreciated and so needed. Thursday night was the refreshment that I needed. I picked up the short termers from AIM and they went to worship with me at Ryan and Stacy’s. It was a good time and all involved were ministered to. Friday was much better and I had new motivation to get stuff done too. Lydia and Jodie are feeling better so thanks for those prayers. Saturday, the short termers came to TOA and its been overall nice to have some American believers around that are my age, so praise God for that as well. Lastly, the epic Freecell streak has ended at 70 wins, which signifies completion, so I might take a break for now. I know that’s important to you, so I wanted to let you know.

Church

I have decided to resist them the temptation of doing a reprisal and revisiting last week’s topic of singleness. I got a grip more feedback on that blog as opposed to previous ones and even had a couple friends ready to set me up (do you realize you’d be sending your loved ones to live in Africa?) Second observation, other than one random comment from a guy friend, all of my responses were from women. It would be easy for me to think that the reason for this is because women are more interested in “relationships” or lack thereof as in the previous writing. And yet, I believe a more accurate extrapolation would be that the vast majority of those that read my blogs are women, period. Guys don’t really sit down and read blogs unless I sat down and talked about why the Lakers are better than the Cavs (if Stick doesn’t comment I know he didn’t read this). Most guy friends that have contacted me have told me that they haven’t read all the blogs or “need to catch up” which translates, “I haven’t read any since mid-January.” So, most of my readers are women, the people that email me mostly women, two of my three colleagues, the majority of the workers at TOA, there are six more girls at TOA as opposed to boys, and the majority of the missionaries are all WOMEN. The feminization of Brandon unfolding before your very eyes… and yet what is the one thing that I want? A WOMAN in my life. Funny how these things figure. But there are other relationships that are important and God-ordained (note transition)…

As I was at church on Sunday the Holy Spirit brought a question to my mind. How would my life at TOA and in Moshi be different, if I were going to the Garden? Now of course this connection is impossible to translate across the physical and cultural boundaries, but just imagine with me for a second. Okay, let’s say I’m not the Children’s Pastor like I used to be, because I work at TOA. But on Sundays, the services are the same, I meet with my life group on Thursdays and get coffee with friends from church regularly. But I lived in Moshi and worked at TOA. Would my life or my experience look different? COMPLETELY!

Much to my chagrin, I don’t go to the Garden anymore. I do go to a good church here called International Christian Center (ICC). But there would be no point in me pretending that its my preference. I like the people there and I enjoy going. This Sunday was…unique. The second service, which I attend, is designed to be evolving into an international service and is completely in English. The Senior Pastor, Pastor Shoo is a very gifted and intelligent man and a personal friend. But with this congregation, he is very hands off and so he doesn’t come most Sundays (he also is the head of New Life Foundation, travels frequently and has at least one other congregation that I know of). So the responsibility falls on other NLF workers, namely Ryan. Well, Ryan was off ministering in Manyara this Sunday. With him not there, the worship was done by the Fountain of Hope students who did a good job and I’m increasingly impressed with a couple of them and their growing leadership. Nonetheless, it was different. They go a little heavy on the keyboard and like most churches I’ve been to in Moshi use these awkward pre-programmed drum beats that come on the keyboard. It gets a little distracting, but the worship was relatively good, very Tanzanian (not the Masai drum thumping worship, I LOVE THAT, it was like normal Tanzanian church worship). Anyway, after worship we took up the offering and then Patrick (a NLF employee) asked me to come up and pray for the preacher. It was spontaneous but not abnormal for here. I came up and whispered asking him who was preaching today and he muttered something, but I didn’t understand. So I just prayed in the general “Lord anoint their words” prayer. I said amen and looked up to see Patrick talking to a visitor Mike, who is a friend of mine and a missionary here, he is actually in my small group. This was the first time I’d seen his family at ICC though. Patrick came back to me and asked “are you the one preaching?” and I chuckled and said “no.” Then I gave the mic to Patrick and he went on to explain that Ryan had appointed someone to preach, but he didn’t know who it was and asked the congregation who is supposed to be preaching. No one moved, no one spoke. So Patrick humbly asked Mike to come up and share whatever is on his heart. I have a new level of respect for Mike, because he got up and just delivered a sermon on self-control and didn’t bat an eye. I’m really glad that he was there, or I’m pretty sure that I would have had to give the impromptu sermon! Apparently, the NLF guy that was supposed to be preaching left after first service and left our visitor Mike (who didn’t know he was even coming to ICC until 15 minutes after the worship had started) up there to do his thing.

Church is different here. Witnessing that experience along with what the Lord put on my heart during worship, got me thinking. What is my role within the church supposed to be here? When I was here last summer, I preached four times. I did that because I was a visitor, a short termer, and that’s what short termers are supposed to do. I enjoyed it, but I’ve never felt called to be a pastor or a preacher. Now, I live here and I don’t know what my mode of operation is to be in regards to church life. I’m not going to go visit a bunch of churches and preach. I’m a missionary, but my service is to father and educate orphans, I didn’t come here to preach.

And yet, I’m going to preach. Its inevitable. I’m white, I’m a missionary, I’m whatever a preacher is supposed to be to Tanzanians. If I were in California still, no one would expect me to preach. I don’t think Darren or John Blue would scoot over in the pulpit for me even if I asked. I’ll teach kids. I’ll facilitate a life group. But my major wasn’t Biblical Studies, I don’t have an M. Div. nor did I go to any special Bible training. I’ll be a lay person. Here though, no one has gone to a university to become a pastor, they just love the Lord and preaching is something that comes out. Ryan mentioned how in many villages here, the pastor is whoever can read the Bible to everyone else. How’s that for qualifications? If you want to be a missionary here, forget about that degree in intercultural studies, the thesis paper, and choosing an organization, if you can read and you like rice and beans, come on down, we’ll find a congregation for you.

The Lord has put it on my heart to help and impart myself to ICC. During discipleship today (I write at night and post the next morning) I talked with Ryan about the direction of ICC and told him that I’m willing to fill whatever need they might have. I’m not going to do children’s ministry. I have 26 kids now and that is my life. Just over the last couple days, I’m feeling an increased calling to bless that second service at ICC. Its okay that the services are different, we are truly a multi-cultural congregation and there is freedom for people to worship in one service or the other or both. I’ve never felt called to be a preacher, but by the Holy Spirit’s help, I’ll preach at ICC regularly. I’ve never envisioned myself leading worship (not just drumming, but playing guitar and leading) in a church service, but I’ve just made myself the second service alternate if Ryan can’t show up (any other day, I will be drumming.) These aren’t things that I envisioned myself or felt called to. They are things that the Holy Spirit can do through me though. I am called to my church. I am called to the church. If you believe in Jesus and have entered into that blessed relationship, you are called to His body, His church with Him as the Head. I sat on my butt, for over a year at Rock Harbor before serving in children’s ministry. When I got up and did something, it was amazing! The Lord used that experience to prepare me for increased roles at Pacific Pointe and The Garden. When I joined the Modern Lovers (miss you guys) I wasn’t expecting nor feeling called to lead the group. There was a need and I wanted to bless my church. A lot of the time, that’s what it takes. You are called to serve and bless your church, it may be weird or awkward or you may not want to, but you are called nonetheless. In that though, know that the Holy Spirit will prepare you and use you in the work. For this we give praise.

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The Rundown: Its been a pretty eventful week. Many of the kids have recovered from being sick, including Awadhi. His fever came down and we noted that it was the first time that his fever was that high without him going into convulsions, so praise God for that. Still Lydia, Jodie and Ema all have malaria so pray for them. The last week with programs have been good, I don’t know if I’ll ever not be figuring stuff out in those regards, but I at least feel like I’m making somewhat of a difference in the education area. On Saturday, we had some visitors at the TOA. They are from an organization called Adventures in Missions and are doing something called the World Race and are going to like eleven different countries or something. Their team leader used to teach at the same school as Lydia and his squad just happens to be spending most of March in Moshi. They were over at Lydia and Jodie’s for dinner last night and I joined them. It was really cool to just sit down with American Christians that are close to my age. It really was the first time that’s happened since I was in Long Beach three months ago. I don’t know all their ages, but its still weird to me that I’m a little younger than a couple of them and thinking how I’m the long-term missionary. I’m seriously an anomaly. It’s been cool to be on the other end of the exchange though. Obviously, I’m not as experienced as Lyd and Jodie, but I’m still a long term missionary and instead of coming to visit “their” children, the team is coming to visit “my” children. I like that. They’re coming back to TOA on Saturday and I invited them to Thursday night worship. Saturday morning I met with a guy that is helping me get connected with Tanzanian Sign Language for Awadhi. Jodie and I might be beginning lessons this coming Saturday, so pray that works out. Yeah, that’s pretty much it.

Single-ness

If this hasn’t been a blog in the making, I don’t know what is.

I’ve decided to do a mid-week blog (no extra charge) on something that I know is applicable to many friends back in the states (as opposed to my last blog, seriously who cares about poetry?). And something that is really stinkin’ difficult.

I’m a rarity in this neck of the woods. Moshi is one of the unique cities in the much bigger picture of African missions. Moshi, or the Kilimanjaro region, for whatever reason, has a fairly large missionary populace. We aren’t running this place by any stretch of the imagination, but I know of friends that have been in areas of Africa and have been the only white person within miles and miles. That’s not the case here. Yet despite the larger missionary base, I’m the only missionary that I know or know of that is a single man and a young one at that. (I’m sure that someone from Moshi will comment saying that they know another, in which case my entire tirade will be null and void and I just wasted everyone‘s time… which I‘m probably doing anyways).

Maybe its because I run in the young Christian activism circles back in California, but sometimes I think that “Africa” is more popular there than it is here. And yet despite the hype, not too many young women are willing to just up and move here for a “long-term indefinite” period of time (although shout out and props to women like my friend Lauren who have done just that). I also can’t think of another missionary that is here that is 23, although just one month till my birthday! Even the young women here are older than me. And if you matchmakers are thinking “possibility?” I’m actually one of those guys that really like to be the older one in the relationship (go ahead and quote me here, I’m sure I just sealed my fate to be younger than my theoretical wife).

I sent out a status update while I was in Wisconsin, jokingly asking people to pray that I’d meet my wife at language school (first week of being here) and a bunch of the sistren commented saying they would. I laughed and said I was joking, but inside, I was certainly entertaining the idea. When you sign up to do God’s will, you sign up to do it on His terms. And if you don’t do it on His terms, I give you a 100% guarantee it won’t work. And as I say that, I think to myself “that implies what I’m doing is working.” Weird. Anyways, His terms are really hard and painful. I know all my friends that are married at any age say, “you know, Brandon, marriage is hard” and I’m like “Really? Let me try.” Then I find out they’re quite fond of their wives and won’t share. Okay, life is hard period. Marriage won’t solve everything, alright. And yet that head knowledge doesn’t make it any easier.

Ryan and I were talking during discipleship and this of course came up. Ryan got married at the age of 22 (I think) right after college to Stacy who is one of those rare women who actually was willing to move, along with their whole family, to a third world country and be missionaries. So needless to say, his story is a bit different from mine. Nonetheless, he was talking about when he left college and missing those friends combined with the freedom that came from being young. He took that freedom and married, then stayed in the states for however many years before being sent out a few years ago. I on the other hand took that freedom and moved here, where the realistic number of potential matches for me became much more slim.

If you know my story, you know my story. I’m going to be careful to not share information that is too personal for another person, but if you know my story, you know my story and if you don‘t the following is more than enough for this area. When I returned from my internship last summer and I had been offered my job at TOA, I had a decision to make. I had to decide if I wanted to stay in southern California and settle down continuing in ministry work with a very respectable and godly woman that I loved very much or to come here, single, and fulfill the story that the Lord had been writing over the previous two years. If I were a more dramatic writer I’d tell you I pined over the decision and it was excruciating, but to be honest, the decision was the easy part. My resolve to come here with or without a partner was set in stone before I got on a plane to come back to California. It wasn’t the decision that was hard, it was the weight of the consequences that was hard. It IS the weight of the consequences that is hard.

My friend Colleen once told me that I’m the kind of guy that makes girls confident that there are still good godly men out there. Isn’t that nice? Its too kind and very humbling. Yet as sweet as it was for her to say that, its entirely frustrating, because if that were true how come I AM SINGLE? Being single is hard. I don’t know what the Lord is up to and I feel like me and all my single friends are just waiting for one big event that will fix our lives. I know that’s not true, but that’s how it appears. I’m not the guy that says “I’m looking for the woman that will complete me.” Because that implies that I’m incomplete, when Christ is truly my everything. And yet all my single friends seem to be waiting, men and women that all have different stories, all clueless. Some of them have remained pure, some have had to have their purity restored, some of them are in college, some are in their mid twenties and all their friends from college are getting married, some are in their thirties and hoping they didn’t miss him/her, I have a friend who is sixty and she was talking about her husband-to-be. All of us are clueless, it seems. I don’t know what the Lord is up to. I know that I can wait, I am waiting and Africa teaches patience well. And yet, I feel like I have to take every opportunity to share about myself and see if there’s potential, because I don‘t want to miss her. Having said that…

Name: Brandon Michael Stiver

Height: 5’11” (although my license says 6’0”)

Weight: 165

Hair: Blonde

Eyes: Grey

Favorite Color: Green

Interests: Jesus, children, children who love Jesus, I like walks on the beach or just walks in general, I play guitar, write poetry and listen to Norah Jones.

Looking For: A woman who loves Jesus, has an idea of settling down that includes living in Tanzania for the foreseeable future with future prospects of following the Holy Spirit anywhere else (India, Bolivia, wherever) and adopting children then moving an enormous Abraham/Sarah size family across continents at the Spirit‘s whim, she is artistic in some form and can live on peanut butter.

(Too much to ask?)

These have been my thoughts. They are only thoughts. They affect my prayer life and may affect my future life, but aren’t necessarily affecting my current life. A prayer that I pray often is “Lord, let my actions be righteous.” My thoughts can be to random and distracting, so I just pray that the thoughts that are within the will of God are the ones that I act on, because action is so much more important than mere thoughts. These are my thoughts on single-ness. Despite my thoughts on marriage, I am unmarried, I haven’t acted on any thought I’ve ever had about marriage, only the thoughts on pre-marriage. My prayers to stay in God’s will for who I am or am not with have largely been answered, because I am 100% certain that today I am supposed to be single. I don’t know what He has in store. I may never marry. I may meet my wife tomorrow. I have no idea. I’m clueless. But what I do know is that whether I’m married or single. My focus is the same. I am to focus on the Lord, seek my satisfaction in Him alone and what He has for me today. He is faithful and He’ll take care of me. He hears my every prayer and while I may be confused about His will or how the whole thing works is a non-issue, because He knows how it works and He loves me, thinks of me and will guide me better than I can myself. Praise the Lord.

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The Rundown: Only a couple things since my last blog. For one, everyone’s sick. A few kids (plus Jodie) have malaria. Awadhi’s been home from school all week with a fever. I personally have a killer sore throat, but I think that’s all it is. Apparently Diamond thinks its funny to cough directly into my face and overall we just share colds here at the orphanage. I went into immigration and I apparently got approved. I go into today (Wednesday) to pick up the permit and get my passport stamped. I’m not sure if they gave me one or two years, but watch my Facebook for the status update. Yeah, that’s pretty much it.

Poetry

Friday night I was kicking it at my house and I began to go through all the previous blogs that I’ve written since December. Maybe its vanity, but I really like going back reading things that I’ve written. It reminds me of where I was when I wrote it, it brings back the emotions, the thoughts, events, the whole deal. I am very blessed by the ability to write and articulate life and I was quite encouraged the other day when my mom told me that my writing is “poetic.”

And yet I’m a little worried. I used to write poetry. I guess I can say that I write poetry, but I haven’t lately. My fear is that I’ve traded in my poetry for prose (does blogging qualify as prose?). Yes, I want my prose to be “poetic,” but I would rather just write poetry. As I’ve gone into writing songs and prose, I’ve been losing my roots.

Roots. I can’t say that “poetry” is necessarily my roots, not just poetry. I am quite indebted to hip hop. My first memory of hip hop, was at my house on L Street in San Miguel. My Junior High best friend Baldo came over and I turned on my radio. I had it on Sly 96 Alternative Rock. He asked me why I didn’t have it on Kiss 99.7 (before it evolved into Wild 106) Hip Hop and R&B and I made some lame excuse and changed it over. We went about our business and soon he left, but I left it on the airwaves. My dad came in and 2Pac was on, he heard it and told me that that is not music I should be listening to, I was officially hooked. Even now, to get in the mood, I got my favorite album on, Black Star. Hard to believe this album is over 10 years old already. “The fire’s in my eyes and the flames need fannin’” [Insert head nod here] So my first poems, weren’t Shakespeare, Frost and Dickinson inspired (that came later), but rather Nas, Method Man, and Mos Def.

Poetry. I decided a couple months ago that if I was going to start writing poetry again, I needed to get back into the culture and get inspiration by reading it first. I got a book and have been enjoying the poems, but the pen hasn’t touched the pad yet. I wrote a song while I was at language school, but that is different from poetry and spoken word. The last few days I’ve just been praying the Lord will give me the opening line, if I get that, I’ll just take off. We’ll see.

Sorry, this blog isn’t really about Tanzania or the kids so much. This is what I’m thinking though. The Lord gave me words, I’m no Robert Frost, I’m no C.S. Lewis, I’m just Brandon and this is what I enjoy. This is my art form. I want my poetry back and I don’t want to lose my prose or song writing, I just want to have my words intact. People that are photographers come to Africa and take amazing photographs, people that paint, come here and paint the most beautiful paintings, and so on. I want to write a poem that will bring tears because of the beauty it shows in life here.

Ephesians 2:10 says we are God’s “workmanship” the Greek word is poiema. As you can infer, this is the word we get our word “poem” from. Try and fit this into your head. Jesus is the Word, the Alpha and Omega, A to Z and all good and real things are brought into existence through the Lord speaking. This universe exists, because God spoke and we are what He does when He writes a poem. That is AMAZING!!! Something special can take place in a poem where the effect it has goes beyond the form and the words. There is such a valuable beauty that comes about that is so much more than you’d find in a science textbook. We are more than a humongous group of intricate molecules and body parts. We experience things that cannot be explained physiologically. Our existence goes beyond our form, that’s because we are His poem. That’s beautiful.

So as you can guess, by the end of Friday night, I had kicked aside the previous blogs and pulled out my poems. And as far as going forward, I’m sure that my words will return to me and if I feel confident with a written poem, I’ll share it with you all at some point. In the meantime, I suggest you find a book of poetry and watch the effect the words have on you. The Lord gave us art and it is one of His most special creations. We are blessed to partake. I’ll give you a freebie and get you into the poetic swing of things…

Excerpt from “The Eternal Goodness” by John Greenleaf Whittier

The wrong that pains my soul below

I dare not throne above,

I know not of His hate, - I know

His goodness and His love

I dimly guess from blessings known

Of greater out of sight,

And, with the chastened Psalmist, own

His judgments too are right

I long for household voices gone,

For vanished smiles I long,

But God hath led my dear ones on,

And He can do no wrong

I know not what the future hath

Of marvel or surprise

Assured alone that life and death

His mercy underlies.

And if my heart and flesh are weak

To bear an untried pain,

The bruised reed He will not break,

But strengthen and sustain.

No offering of my own I have,

Nor works my faith to prove;

I can but give the gifts He gave

And plead His love for love.

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The Rundown: Speaking of writing, I just got published. My first article written as Education Director was just put out in the newsletter this week, kind of. I really love writing, as you know. Apparently Rita really loves editing. I wrote that article in Victory Magazine, mostly. After I read the published version, I was like “Wow, I sound like Rita.” Lydia, Jodie and I had a good laugh about it and they said she’s been doing that for years. Hamna shida. She wants like that dramatic, adventure writing and I just want to chill, be real and crack self-effacing jokes about eating oatmeal in my underwear. Its all good, just difference in style and I‘m pleased with the article. Life is good. The past couple days have been really nice, a little slower and I’m keeping up with stuff. I’m still trying to figure out the programs somewhat, but the preschool is just about right where I want it. This coming Wednesday, I am going to lead worship at my home group (weird we don’t call it a life group), so I’m looking forward to that. Today was the Kilimanjaro marathon. I went down there and checked it out. My church was supposed be doing evangelism, but I couldn't find them. Several of the kids, including Awadhi, have malaria so you can be praying for them and I myself have a bit of a sore throat, but I'm hoping that's all it is. I’ve been doing research for the ESL stuff, so hopefully that will fit in a little better. Its just hard, because all the kids are at different levels and their schedules seem so random. Continue to pray as I try and figure it all out. Yeah, that’s life.