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

Strength

I used to think that I was a strong person. Sometimes people say that it takes a strong person to be a missionary overseas, I then wonder how in the world I’m making it out here. The emotions of being back have been overwhelming at times. I wish that I could say that they’ve all been positive, but it actually seems that most haven’t been. It just feels a little off. I try to be upbeat with the couple status updates I post on Facebook, but its been a little harder and I find myself at a bit of a loss.I look around at the fellow missionaries and perceive how well they have it all together. They are older, wiser and have a handle on things. I rarely see their emotions get to them or not know what to do in a particular situation. All the while, I can feel debilitated by all that I’m facing.


After arriving in Nairobi, we took the shuttle to Moshi the next morning. As we rode, I gazed out the window with so many things on my mind. As I looked out over the all too familiar terrain of East Africa, I was being reminded more of the hardships of living here than anything else. Melissa kept asking me if I was okay and while I said yes, I couldn’t hide from her that I was feeling a real weight. I was, and still am, feeling a weight of responsibility like I’ve never felt before and its more than I can bear in my own strength, help me Jesus.


When we got here in the late afternoon and got to see our new home, we were very pleased and realized how blessed we are. As our friends took off and left Melissa and I at the house by ourselves there was some excitement in the air, but in my soul, I also felt this sense of inadequacy for all that has been undertaken. I have always said that I want a life where people can see Christ in me due to the situation that I’m in requiring Him to move in powerful ways. I certainly have returned to that and now even to a greater degree with a wife to care for, and its not exactly romantic, its more like daunting, if not scary at times, because it is a situation that I can’t remotely handle in my own strength.

Complicated

Sometimes my desire to write exceeds my ability to do so. I, perhaps, find myself in such a position right now. I’ve ingrained it into my psyche that I need to write on a regular basis for some odd reason; be it a false illusion that what I write matters or a need to organize my thoughts into something meaningful. And yet at this particular moment, I find myself bound and debilitated by the complexity of life. 


My mother has always said that I’m a very black and white person, my fiancé agrees. I often wish that things in life were clearly marked and that dashed lines were drawn everywhere we go, showing us what is good and what is bad. The gray areas are by definition hard to discern and I really hate that. I feel like when Thing A happens then the natural progression should result in Thing B occurring. And if Black is Black and Black is bad, then I shouldn’t do Black ever. Unfortunately for simpletons like me, some things are dark gray which means sometimes they’re okay even if they normally aren’t. Its all quite confusing to be sure and a Christ follower ought to realize that a godly spirit of discernment is much needed at all times. 


I’ve been seeing just how complicated life can be more and more recently. For example, this morning I was reading in the book Searching For God Knows What and Donald Miller was talking about the circus and his love for elephants. In a brief side note, he questioned why we keep elephants in circus cages. In my mind, even such an off-hand comment sends me into this inner dialogue where I argue with myself, “Yeah! Let those elephants out! They weren’t created in cages, so don’t keep them there.” “But we have dominion over them and we ought to be able to do with them as we please. And its not like we’re torturing them, people ought be allowed to enjoy them.” “Asian elephants belong in Asian jungles and African elephants belong in African savannahs. If people want to see them they can go on a safari in their natural habitat.” “Oh, but that would be an awful waste to spend all that money on airfare and the like just for the sake of tourism.” And so on and so on.  

Spinning

For all that I've said about the difficulties of living here, let it not be lost on the reader that I truly love what I do; more accurately I truly love my children. There is beauty in simplicity and at times that shines through here. Here's a quick story from yesterday.

Maggie Mosh

My kids don't have an XBOX, dirtbikes or a trampoline. But we do have a couple tire swings. One is a fat tire that is cut wide enough for a kid to sit in. Earlier this week, I peaked out to the playground to see Zoe sitting in the swing and Awadhi twisting it up. It seemed a bit high, but he didn't hesitate to let it go. She then spun like crazy and I couldn't help but laugh from a distance. Yesterday, I was playing soccer with Sam, but when I noticed Jerry helplessly twisting Awadhi up in the swing, I went over to help him out. I then spun him up super high. If he can do it to Zoe and she can handle it, I'm sure that he could! So I spun him up and let him rip. That kid went so fast! It wasn't long until all the children wanted a turn. After Awadhi was Jerry and he couldn't handle as much as Awadhi. Then Lucy got in and she got so dizzy that she fell on the ground after getting down and trying to walk, laughing the whole time of course. Then Sam went and he of course, being older, demanded I make it go as high as Awadhi. Then Maggie, my lovely model for this post. After her was Zoe. Now I have many nicknames for Zoe and one of them is "aggressive" and she is one tough cookie. So I made sure to not hold back on my little three year old daughter. She leaned back and got in a little ball and she was off. Being more aerodynamic with the same amount of spin, I'd say she won the competition. Right after her, I got little Diamond up into the seat and someone shouted "mezani" which means "to the table (for dinner)." Since I already had her in the seat, I gave her one quick spin and it was more than enough for our youngest Treasure. She jumped off the swing and looked at me and shouted "I love you!" I live for moments like these and I praise God for them.

Its times like these that I realize how blessed I am and how beautiful the Kingdom of God is.

Entitlement

I think that we live in the most obscure time in eternity. There is pre-Genesis eternity, Creation up to the Cross, now, and the age to come. We are truly in a peculiar spot in history. Anyone that is familiar with the Rock Harbor circles of fellowship are familiar with the New Testament picture of the Kingdom of God as “now, but not yet.” The Kingdom of God, and all the blessings and holiness that comes with it, is “at hand” (Matthew 3:2) and thus is within reach. The Kingdom of God, or the Kingdom of Heaven, is a Kingdom without sin, sickness or death; utterly flawless, fulfilling and satisfying. That is within reach and Jesus wants His followers to walk in this truth. And yet, the Kingdom is not fully here yet, thus death, sin and sickness still have an evil grip on this world. The Kingdom of God is infinitely superior and more powerful than the kingdom of darkness and victory is already secured, yet it has not completely taken place yet (unless by the time you read this, Jesus has already come back , in which case, I’ll just tell you, the reader, that I’m never updating this blog again). I believe Jesus’ words and I believe that the Holy Spirit is just like Jesus and that He does the same stuff today. That’s truth.

I write this blog without much of an idea of how things work. May the Lord work through my foolish thoughts and writing. I believe in things that I don’t see. I believe in things that the Bible teaches, yet I’ve never seen them with my own eyes. I hear people’s stories about incredible miracles that have taken place and as much as I truly believe them, when it becomes my turn all I can do is kind of look at the ground and shuffle me feet. Certainly I testify of the Lord working in the supernatural in my life and testify that He does those things. But when it comes to those radical healings and completely unexplainable phenomena I don’t really have anything to say.

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.

Sin

Last week as I was in the hospital room, sitting at Awadhi‘s bed, I had a thought that was resounding in my head. You hear so many statistics about the ways disease and death ravage third world countries, specifically sub-Saharan Africa. As I was there in that room at Kilimanjaro Christian Medical Center, those numbers grew faces again as I realize that there are children in this ward that aren’t going to come out. I heard the cries of a family mourning just outside of Awadhi’s room in the hallway; a woman crying out loud over some child’s death, possibly hers. And this thought was resounding in my head: “Why don’t we realize the impact of our sin?”

This world has a major problem. This world is in sin. The impact of that results in all the woes that you can think of in this world. You name the ailment and its source is in sin; disease, dissatisfaction, shame, poverty, loneliness, death. When Adam and Eve chose to disobey God, which is the definition of sin, the consequences were severe and every aspect of their lives were changed as shame, poverty and death entered the world.

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.

Testimony

I have been very blessed over the last month or so with some friends that have come from California to work with Ryan. I’ve already mentioned Kelli who has been my friend for a few years now and we were in the same life group back in Costa Mesa. Also, Vanguard’s interns Nick, Taylor and Dalila as well as Melissa who got connected to Ryan through me and kind of a cool story of what God did and is doing in bringing her here. So these five are staying at Ryan’s place and its been really great to have a community of people around my age to share life with this summer.

Before Melissa and Kelli even got here, I mentioned to the others that I wanted to do testimonies as a group. I’ve always loved to hear stories of other believers and the work that the Lord has done in their lives and what He’s doing right now. It allows us to have better insight into those in our community and it encourages us because we realize that often some of the things they’ve gone through aren’t all that different from our own. Even for those in the group that drive you up the wall, it increases your ability to empathize with them and love them more.

So we started our testimonies a couple days ago. I got put in the hot seat first (that’s what I get for coming up with the big idea) on Wednesday. I managed to go for just over two hours. Yeah, a total snooze fest. I enjoy sharing of what the Lord is doing and has done. Because I’m so long winded I try to throw in a few completely irrelevant stories about stuff like being in a “club” as a child named after my friends stuffed bear (Club Ted) and how tea parties with girls played a part in such situations. Basically, I try to keep everyone awake, which isn’t all too dissimilar from preaching at a Tanzanian church service. After I went, Melissa shared (pushing us late into the night) and then last night Dalila and Taylor testified. Nick and Kelli are coming up next.

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.

Adventure

My alarm goes off at 8:00 AM, this is sleeping in for me now. Get up, shower, make breakfast. My Saturday morning church service of worship music and listening to The Garden’s pod cast, Pastor Bill teaching on sloth. Church takes place as I do all the dishes from the previous week. So much silverware. My first day with this new deodorant, it smells very manly. I hop on the piki and head to TOA. Go into my office, check Facebook, email and change blog interface (do you like it?). I go outside to play with the kids. Sam smells my armpit while sitting next to me and says “Baba, you are wearing perfume.” I teach the English word ‘cologne’ and explain its my new deodorant. Chapati and beans for lunch. Show Benny some things on the guitar. Let the older kids on the computers while I work in my office. Lyd comes up and we go to balance the books for March. Expected time to do so, 20-30 minutes. After two hours, my new deodorant is adding to my headache. After a few hours, Jodie comes in with a problem. Awadhi is out of his meds and we might have to go to his school and it is already turning into dusk. If they go, I go, because its not the best place to go after dark and its been raining. I wait. Turns out they don’t go and I don’t leave TOA till 6:40. I take my laundry home in my basket and it blocks my headlight. Too dark to wear my shaded sunglasses while I drive. Bug flies in my eye. Try not to eat it in the mud. Get home. The new tenants’ dog won’t stop barking at me. I pray this big German Shepherd doesn’t get to brave and bite me. He settles for disrespectfully peeing on my piki. I come inside, turn on Amos Lee, cut the mold off the last of my cheese and fry up another salami quesadilla. Resign to writing for the night. Adventure?

A couple days ago, I was IMing with a friend from Long Beach. He asked me if I had anything exciting to share. I told him that things that used to seem exciting to me were now just normal. A response also known as ‘no.’ He asked me if we’d been dealing with any persecution. As an aside, I know where my friend’s question came from as he was a part a prayer meeting for me where that was spoken of. I won’t get into it right now, but I’m quite certain that in my walk I will come into considerable persecution. His question came from that mindset, but the truth is I haven’t really been experiencing any yet. Boy, that’d make for a riveting blog.

Adventure is important to me. Anyone whose ever read this blog since I started it can see that the same tag line has been on it the whole time “tracking Brandon and all his adventures throughout Moshi, Tanzania with his Treasures of Africa.” Is that accurate? Have you been reading my blogs and thinking “wow, look at the adventures Brandon is having with his Treasures of Africa!”? Probably not. I wish that I could chalk it up to my self-effacing writing style, but the truth is, this “adventure” looks different than I would have thought.

What is adventure? When I think of adventure, I get this mental picture of Indiana Jones running away from this huge stone ball and narrowly escaping yet again. Is that the standard for adventure? I’m not a tomb raider. I’ve never even met one. There has to be some other standard to say that this is living adventurously and this is living domicile. I don’t know what it is though. When you think about all the ways that people live its hard to discern what is true adventure and what isn’t. What about a person that is always climbing mountains, hang gliding and skydiving, but he’s never been in love and is insecure, is he living an adventure? What about a guy who used to have these aspirations of changing the world and now is working a normal job married with a couple kids, is he living an adventure? Better yet, how about a guy that will be 24 on Thursday, who just followed God to Africa, but his experience is different than he expected? Adventure? Sijui.

Bill Dogterom was preaching on sloth and he talked about how we are made for adventure and to sail the seas of life. I agree, both from experience and from knowing that disagreeing with Bill is second to disagreeing with the Lord. By the grace of the Spirit, sloth seems so unattractive to me, because I want to experience life that is really life. Even if that means I fall on my piki in the mud or get a broken heart every now and then.

So is this adventure? I daresay that I think it is. Everything else aside, I say it is for one reason. I may not be riding rhinos to work or getting beat up by Masai warriors everyday. I may not be taking the gospel into some remote South American tribe or hiding out with my underground church in the Bhutan. But there is this critical factor of risk. Adventure is completely dependent on risk. There is nothing more valuable to risk than love. I can objectively say that I risked love to be here. I loved my friends and family in the states. I still do love them, of course. However, in a normal pattern of thinking, you might gather that me moving to the other side of the earth will severely limit the growth of love in every single relationship. Not that love won’t grow still, but it won’t be as much or as quick if I’d been sitting down with you and experiencing life at your side. I risked that true love. Even more so I risked not having the truest form of human love that I’ve ever experienced as being here meant not being with a person that I loved in the most unique fashion.

So there’s the risk. Praise God that my risk was not out of foolhardiness and thrill chasing in East Africa, but rather it was based in His calling me here. Since it is in His will, I have a 100% chance of reaping greater benefits (love) than I risked. I’ve always loved the kids that I worked with in California. I risked and gave them up and have experienced a hundred-fold (no exaggeration) in the love that I have for the Treasures. That takes nothing away from my love for those kids in the states, but the Lord has taken me to a new level. I risked my love for the relationships with friends and family. Praise God that those are still maintainable from here, though more limited. My friend base here is…developing, nonetheless there are certainly a handful of people that I am developing deep relationship with. And that risk of being with that special woman, I honestly believe that the Lord hasn’t forgotten that and when I’m with whoever I’m supposed to be with, it too will be an immeasurable increase because of His faithfulness.

The greatest adventure is abiding in the Spirit and allowing Him to lead you. Don’t fear, He is with you and will uphold you. Let go of what control you think you have and dive in expecting the unexpected. It’ll be beautiful, pinky promise.

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The Rundown: The first week of the kids’ break went very well. We’ve had time for all the things that I mentioned last week. They are big fans of English Verb Bingo for the ESL time. I’ve taught them a couple songs as well which is my favorite thing. On Friday, I took the fourth graders and up for a nice long walk to the grocery market and treated them to ice cream. That was a lot of fun. I have really been able to make some deep connections with the boys especially. We have some great conversations and laugh together a lot. The books have been a serious headache. Pray that Lydia and I can figure stuff out before a bunch of transactions are made on Monday. Its Easter and that’s crazy how fast its come up. He is risen! I didn’t bring any pastel shirts. We’ll be eating a nice tall goat. My birthday is this week. I will be 24. Does 23 start my mid-twenties or is it 24? One way or another I’ll certainly be in my mid-twenties on Thursday. Haya, inatosha.

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.

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.

"I Have Not Forgotten You"

God's grace is always sufficient. Praise the Lord.

This weekend has been in a word, normal. I cannot tell you how much joy it brings me to tell you that. This is my life. This is my work. This is my home. I'm blessed.

This week was hard and so blessed. This week was busy and so joyful. The last few days have been so good and I believe they've given me my best picture yet of what life in Moshi will look like.

Let me run through the anointed normality.

Friday was my first day really doing hands-on education stuff with the kids and it was so much fun. I busted out the play-dough and finger paint and we went through eight different colors and trying to get the kids to memorize both the English and Swahili names for each of them. I love working with kids and the preschool age always seems to be the funniest. No matter what color I held up and no matter which language I asked for, half their answers were "yellow" unless of course I held up the color yellow. Justina has really taken the game on in normal life, anytime we're together, we ask each other "rangi gani?" ("which color?") and she's starting to get them down. After that I took the three older ones upstairs for computer time. Lucy and Justina did really good, but Jerry was in way over his head so I let him go back with the toddlers outside.

The hardest part since getting back to Moshi was on Friday afternoon, when Baba Pendo and I went to pick Awadhi up from his school. I was distracted enough during the week to not focus on the fact that he wasn't there, but it hit me like a ton of bricks when we went to get him. We got there and he walked up with his caregiver and he was so lethargic. He didn't smile until we got home and saw his friends, had a snack and got back into the swing of things at TOA. I don't know what to say. I wasn't able to talk to anyone really because only one person there spoke Swahili and the rest were deaf. Keep praying. I don't know what to say, but please do pray.

Friday night, I had a great time over at Lydia and Jodie's place. They cooked a bomb meal and we were able to talk about the kids, about our lives, share stories and so on. I am feeling more and more blessed to have them and Eli as my partners in this wonderful ministry.

Saturday was a good day, mostly. It didn't start off too great. I went and picked up Awadhi and then Jodie to go to a place where a lady was supposed to meet us and hook Awadhi up with a hearing aid, but to no avail. The lady had told Jodie to come Saturday and she never showed. That is not uncommon here. The rest of the day was great though. Playing with the kids outside, singing, teaching the older boys to play guitar, and so on. The best part was Awadhi's first skype conversation with Babu na Bibi (Grandpa and Grandma) back in Wisconsin. He really got a kick out of it as did mom and dad. You'd think a deaf kid wouldn't get much out of that, but the kid is so visually geared with facial expressions and everything that he was perfectly content to stare and make faces at these wazungu on the screen.

Today was special. I had a very anticipatory sense throughout the morning and God was faithful to speak as well as give me new things to pray about and remember. I went and picked Awadhi up from TOA and then him and I went to church together just the two of us. I had heard good things about the community at this Anglican church (shout out to Scott) so him and I went there. I doubt he's ever seen so many wazungu (white/western people) in one place. He was so so so good! I didn't feel comfortable taking him to the children's service, but he did a great job sitting next to me in service, cuddling, coloring and playing with my sunglasses. The service was good, I certainly enjoyed the sermon and there was a time where the guest speaker had us hear from the Lord. It was hard to focus on her prompting with Awadhi by my side totally clueless, but in the brief moment I closed my eyes, the Lord took me back to the time when I first held Awadhi in that hospital and to think that He has brought me all the way to where my son and I are sitting in a church service together. With that came the words "I have not forgotten you." All the worries about being here not knowing what I'm doing, being single, having so much to do in a culture that is not my own, waiting on Awadhi's healing and being frustrated with his schooling, and any lack of money, all these things fall by the wayside as I remember that He remembers.

Praise the Lord. I'm not forgotten, God knows my name. Awadhi's not forgotten, God knows his name. You are not forgotten, God knows your name.

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The Rundown (SPECIAL HOME EDITION): As I said above the week was good. Progressively getting stuff done and next week will be even more normal. All the most important stuff was put above and the only other things were that had a good time in worship at Ryan and Stacy's on Thursday and we had a rad drum circle going on at the end. I took my first spill on the pikipiki on Friday. Nothing serious, just glad to have gotten it out of the way. I played indoor soccer a couple times this week with Noe at ISM which resulted in the biggest blister of my life. I was astounded and it gave me a limp for two days. And that is pretty much all I can think of.

Since this is my home, you may want to see it (or you might not, in which case, thanks for stopping by!) so I've got some pictures of life here and the places I am daily. The most important pictures were posted on Facebook this week. All the Treasures' pictures are in the album "January and February," but here are pictures of my house and my office. This is my home...

Nyumba Kwangu (My home)

My Living Room (The floor's filthy and the furniture's not mine)

I duct tape paintings to the wall, not because I live in Africa, but because I can.

The kitchen (gotta love the ugly gas tank right under the counter)

Can you spot yourself on the fridge?

Still working on that whole shower curtain thing. One of the joys of living alone.

Plenty of closet space

The mosquito net is a God send. So long as no mosquitoes get trapped inside.

My main ride. I love him so long as he doesn't kill me.

Secondary vehicle.

My office. The source of all my webcam pictures and skype conversations.

Family Family and LG Family don my desk with Awadhi and JuJu on the screen.

Reality

This summer New Life Foundation had a New Zealand team come to serve in Moshi. Since we were also serving with NLF, our paths crossed a little while they were here. They were kind, but a little quirky. The leader was speaking during the morning devotional one day and he asked a somewhat rhetorical question. As he paused for the implied answer, he then burst out and said “Jesus is always the answer!” I smirked, then leaned over to Ann and asked her what one plus one is.

I know Jesus is the answer. I just don’t understand reality at times. There are transcendent truths that I know. God is good. God is holy. God is love. God is gracious. God is unfathomable. And so on. But I don’t always get life or why things happen like they do. All the truth about reality that has ever existed from 1+1 to awe-inspiring beauty to the heavenly truths that are too lofty for humans to comprehend are all within one God as three Persons. I even know apologetically, the problem of evil and so on. I know this. I live this and these truths effect me beyond putting the words on paper. Yet, life is a little more tricky than a theology course.

This month marks two years since I started sponsoring Awadhi. Along with my monthly financial sponsorship, came my prayers. I have positively affected Awadhi’s life with my prayers. One year is 365 days, two years makes 730, I have prayed and do pray for him every morning and every night since I started sponsoring him. This isn’t including other prayers, but lets go with the minimum here. I have prayed for the same person, a five year old Tanzanian orphan, over 1400 times. I don’t say this to boast, this is God’s plan and there is nothing more important that I do in a day than pray for Awadhi and there is nothing I enjoy more either. The first time I did a week long fast, I was solely focused on praying for him and his healing. The second week long fast, Clesi and I prayed for many things and people, none more important to me than Awadhi. I count sister Clesi among my closest spiritual advisors and it was at the end of that fast as we were driving home (after punishing/rewarding ourselves with Chipotle) that she shared with me a word of knowledge and a change in direction for Awadhi. She told me that the Lord had heard our prayers and seen our fasting and He would now be healing Awadhi from the inside out. I would fast for much longer just to get those words that He so graciously spoke through my dear friend. Tears came to my eyes in light of God’s grace. Awadhi is important to me. His healing is important to me.

Now I live here. Its wonderful. Its exactly where I want to be and I am so excited that I don’t have to leave anytime soon. And yet, there is some frustration here. I do trust in the Lord’s timing, but we are getting close to a critical point for Awadhi. Friday as I returned to Moshi for the weekend, I walked to TOA to get my piki and say hi to the kids briefly. I was greeted at the carport by Lydia and Jodie. They had had themselves a day and a half. Things in Tanzania are different. I don’t say this in the cute way, or it’s just a difference in culture. There are some messed up things that go on here and a lot of the reason people suffer here, like anywhere else, is because of their own sin.^[i] Lydia had been dealing with a very mean Tanzanian woman who was threatening to turn off our electricity for no reason. Also, we are trying to figure out Awadhi’s education plan and stuff for that had come up, because hearing aids are up in the air and its hard to get him in places because he is HIV+. I stood there and listened to Lydia, who is an amazingly strong woman in the Lord, tell me that with Anjela passing and the chance of having to send Awadhi to a boarding school for education, she fears she is doing something wrong as the director. I told her that that was not it, but I couldn’t tell her why this is happening. I don’t get this reality.

Furthermore, it is a tough pill for me to swallow to think that after all my time in the states and all that the Lord did to bring me here, and the significant role that my son played, for me to get here and then for Awadhi’s best option to learn is for him to go off to boarding school. So no longer would it be, I see him everyday, but rather I see him every weekend at best. That sucks. When Lyd told me last month about Awadhi’s education, the thing that I’ve kept praying is “Please, Lord, allow another way than having to send him off.” And now I don’t know. I don’t get this reality and I continue to pray that with the coming events of the week, the Lord provides another way.

I woke up Saturday morning, I was at peace and also prayerful because of the things that were on my heart. I had another confusing dream the night before (I’ve had like four on the same issue this week) and also I was thinking about Awadhi and I prayed that when I got there today that the moment I touched him, that it would bring about his healing finally. That didn’t happen.

I’ll tell you what did happen though. The kids, me, Lydia, Jodie and a few of the caregivers went to the banda and worshiped this afternoon. We rejoiced and sang. The two year olds led some, the older kids led some and we all worshiped and laughed and played before the Lord, including Awadhi. That boy wants to talk, he wants to sing. Anapiga kelele. He shouts. He makes noise. The kids get in a line and do their dance and he gets right in there with them. And while he may have faint hearing, he can’t hear his own laugh or his father’s voice.

Faith is the currency of life here. Just because its been over 1400 prayers, many days of fasting, thousands of miles traveled, 56 hours so far at language school and countless hugs and kisses, laughs and tears and he still hasn’t been healed, I will still pray. We will still pray. We don’t lose hope. We pray and hope that the higher reality, where sickness doesn’t exist, will come down to this world and touch him. We take in faith what has been spoken over Awadhi. Until then, we rejoice, we praise, we will dance upon the injustice and look forward to the good report of God’s hand nailing all his sickness to the cross and the resurrection of Awadhi’s blood and hearing.

^[i]I am more than aware of the beauty of this place as well (I moved here for crying out loud!) I love this country and the people in it. Some of the most wonderful people and believers I know are Tanzanian. I just get frustrated at times, when people get so wrapped up in “Africa” and “Africans” and don’t acknowledge that SIN is a humongous problem here and its not only Joseph Kony. Yes, we are African, we dance and rejoice in worship, but we also struggle with holiness and some Africans are very mean. Hey, I used a footnote. Is that allowed in blogging?

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The Rundown: Two weeks of language school are in the can and I look forward to life in Moshi as opposed to Usa River, which will happen after one more week. Language school has been good, but it wears me out. I love talking and being friends with non-believers, but this time at language school is the first time that I don’t have fellowship with believers to go with my non-believer relationships. That can be taxing because its like no one gets close to knowing who I am deep down. At any rate, I do like the people I am studying with and I had a really good conversation with Stefano the other day and I was able to witness some. I am in Moshi right now. I had dinner Friday night at the Helblings, which is so great. I love that family. Saturday, I was getting settled into life at TOA some and also spending time with the kids and everyone else. I am very much enjoying my mode of transportation around which is the pikipiki (a motorized scooter). All the kids are good and we had fun playing. Although I may have over done it with my elbow. It still hasn’t healed all the way from when I hurt it on New Year’s Day! This morning, I went to ICC again and I am continuing to walk in church life in Moshi as opposed to just visiting churches as it was when I was only here on short term trips. Last week, I was unexpectedly asked to bless the congregation with the final prayer of the service and this week I was unexpectedly asked to help lead worship on the ashika right before service started. Its all good. Thats church here and I like the spontaneity. Still no Facebook and its adding to my frustration. I don’t want to start over with a new profile, but if I don’t hear back from them in the next week, I’ll probably just make a new one even if it complicates restoring my old one. Please do email me though, I check it consistently. I guess that’s life right now. Thanks for all your prayers, family!

Sacrifice

"I can't lose focus, because Jesus is who I follow

Sometimes I choke back tears, but this time I'll decide to swallow

Submit my life to Him and glorify Him through the loss

Knowing before there's resurrection we must endure the cross."

-Excerpt from a poem I wrote on Jan. 30 2008

Mike Erre was joking a couple years ago about USC beating The Ohio State University and he said in jest that the loss was the cross that must be endured before the Buckeye's overcome and resurrect. Everyone laughed, but the joke itself was something that stuck with me (besides I'm a Badgers fan). We must endure the cross of pain and suffering before our resurrection and this is the path of the Way.

January 2008 was the crappiest month of my life. I just got back to Vanguard for my final semester before receiving my Bachelor's in Education. A little over a month before, my girlfriend of over two years had broken up with me, my best friend from back home had gotten into some trouble with the law and there was family turmoil as well. If I was ever in a state of depression, that would've been it.

I remember one night in particular. I was in my night class on the Gospel of Mark and I received a call from my brother Donny and then called back to talk to my sis-in-law Melissa and got the 411 on what had happened with my friend. I was devastated and shocked. In my pain, I wanted to turn to my best friend on this Earth, only to quickly remember that she had broken up with me November 23rd 2007. After class, I called my friend's wife and left her a pathetic tearful message and then went on a walk. I have never felt that things were so out of whack.

In that season of sowing in tears, I planted a seed that would lead to reaping in the deepest joy I've ever felt. The resurrection of my sorrow. [Psalm 126:5]

I again find myself in a time of dying to myself and sacrificing. I leave California in less than a week. This has been my home and the majority of the people I know and call loved ones live within the four and a half hours that it takes to get from Costa Mesa to San Miguel. As if saying goodbye to Andy, Amy and the Varners wasn't hard enough last week, yesterday I had a going away party. Joel represented the central coast, while Cody, Alaina, Clesi, Katie, Jeff and the LG fam showed up for Costa Mesa and The Garden/Modern Lovers gave LB love. And I was so sad. I cried so much yesterday. The bitter before the sweet I suppose.

Ashley put it really well a few weeks ago... I have sacrificed everything and especially these relationships for Awadhi [and the Treasures]. This last week, I've felt the weight of that sacrifice and its really painful. But the resurrection is yet to happen and that's my hope.

I am so glad that [Lord willing] my journey is not over yet. Yesterday before the party, I heard my story for the first time without speaking it. Thanks to a great videographer and now friend, Brett, I was able to hear me tell my story and I can't tell you how much it blessed me. I've watched it like five times by now and cried every single time. The only problem with my story about the Lord's calling on my life to Tanzania is that I live in California right now. I'm still saying goodbye and still hanging on this cross, albeit a glorious cross. I suppose my time in Rice Lake will be the tomb (am I reaching for this analogy?) and come January 10th, I get to come out and the Lord will receive glory and I'll walk through walls (figuratively...maybe literally).

So that seed that I planted in January 2008 when I started sponsoring and praying for Awadhi has already started to bud and next month January 2010 is going to be harvest time.

Praise be to the Lord. He is my Hope. He is my Love. He is my Peace. He is my Everything. And I will sacrifice everything and anyone (or everyone) for the joy of knowing Him. It is my delight to suffer for His sake and I await the day when all His saints are resurrected and we live in perfection for eternity. Asante Jehova.

Keep This Up Family