I read a book while I was in Nigeria called "Soul Cravings" by Erwin McManus. I am a big fan of Erwin, and it's not just because he has a sweet name. It's because I really appreciate his speaking and writing. He always challenges me to go a bit deeper and think on a different level. This week I have been thumbing back through Soul Cravings because I am going to reference it in a talk to high school students this weekend about community.
I just wanted to share one quote with you. He is talking about how there is no such thing as a perfect community. Duh! Of course not...because we are all flawed so as soon as we join into a community it is automatically flawed. But because of this imperfection, he says, "it's easier to be patient with people when you realize they're being patient with you." I think that is a brilliant statement. I remember reading this about 2 weeks in to living in a house with 14 other people in Africa. I remember thinking..."Amen, brother!" as I recalled how I had to be patient with one of my new friends over something and realized that she was being pateint with me over the same issue. We just saw things differently.
But now I've been back home for over 2 weeks. I have been back in my apartment where I live alone and once I walk in that door only have to be patient with myself. And I've noticed myself being less patient with the people in my life when I am not consistently confronted with community living and constantly pushed to be patient with others. It bums me out because my desire is to love the people around me well, but my selfishness does rear its ugly head at times when I don't necessarily get what I want. I don't think anyone else would even notice, but I notice. I feel it in my gut when I know I should be giving grace and in my spirit I am frustrated or angry or feeling put off by something someone else did.
So today I am reminded that nobody is perfect and that we are all on this journey called life...where we are so blessed to have the opportunity to walk together in it. My prayer today is that God would help me to see from someone elses' shoes. And that He would make me aware of my shortcomings that others have to deal with, which inevitably makes me more patient when I notice someone elses shortcomings. Thank you God that you are so patient with me.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Life in Transition
Sorry for being slack in not posting this week, but it's been a busy time trying to transition back to what I used to call "normal life." The reason I say "used to" is because I'm coming to realize that there is no such thing as normal life...and I'm really glad about that. The transition back to the States has been easy in some ways and tremendously difficult in others. As far as settling back into the comforts of home...not a problem. It was not tough to turn my air conditioner on and tuck myself into my nice, soft bed. It was not tough to brush my teeth and stick my toothbrush under the water for the first time in 5 weeks. It was not tough to clean up my dishes and put them in the dishwasher. What has been tough is to drive around and be reminded of the tremendous wealth in our country...and think about the friends I left in Nigeria who don't have running water or electricity...and it becomes a lot to process. It's been hard knowing that God has changed my heart in many ways and I'm very curious of how those changes fit into the life I left. It's been tough to walk back into life changed and know that many people don't understand why you aren't the same. They aren't critical of the change, in fact, many are very supportive, but that doesn't mean they understand. It is also tough to try to explain the experience I had in Nigeria to others and really try to help them understand all that God showed me and spoke into my life. I always tell our students that they need to have one or two short stories ready that give a glimpse of what they experienced on a mission trip. I tell them people will ask, but because those people have not had the experience they might not understand your excitement and they aren't going to want to listen to a 2 hour dissertation on Mexico or poverty or how a small orphan child can rock your boat and change your world. This week, more than ever before, I understand why I tell students this. It's not that people don't want to hear...but more than that, I cannot condense all that I experienced over the past 5 weeks into a short conversation. I honestly haven't even made it through processing it all in my own brain, let alone try to explain to someone else what I think or feel or have experienced.
But one thing I am learning is that life is not "normal". I had to go half way around to world to realize that normal is not something to strive for. God is much bigger than normal. And if our lives begin to be what we would consider normal, we are probably settling for much less than what God has designed for us. Normal means we aren't out of our comfort zones. Normal means we are just going along with the culture and aren't rocking the boat. God never intended for us to be normal. He intends for us to be set apart and radical. He intends to shake up our lives and surprise us with His grace, His mercy, and His plan. So, I like that my life is no longer normal. I like that I am expectant of what God will do next and excited to be, as C.S. Lewis says, surprised by joy. I'm glad that God is gracious enough to shake it up. I hope your life is never normal.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Coming Home
Well, tomorrow is the day. We will board a plane tomorrow afternoon and head back to Cincinnati. I have mixed emotions as we attempted a bit of closure this afternoon. I have great anticipation of coming home and diving back into coaching and ministry, and at the same time I have a well of sadness about leaving what has been home for the past 5 weeks. I have a lot to process as I think about all that I've experienced while being here. God has shown up in some big ways. I have been able to participate in some great ministry as well as have some very intimate time with God. I cannot begin to tell you all that God has shown me during this time right now, but I will continue to process and share what I can. One thing that I am confident of is that God is calling me to stay put in Cincinnati. I know some of you were probably wondering if this trip would surface a calling to full time missions in Africa. I'm not going to say that at some point in my life that is not going to happen, but for now, I believe with my whole heart that He has called me to Horizon and the students in Indian Hill, Mariemont, Madeira and Anderson. I am excited about this. It's not that I didn't have an amazing time while being here in Africa. I am excited about continuing our relationship here and I'm hoping to at some point bring our college students and maybe some adults from Horizon here to experience a glimpse of what I have. (Sorry Phil, I know you said not to get excited about that, but I really am.) I think the perspective that I've gained about poverty, God's heart for the lost, and our role in all of it is so valuable. I've also gained some huge perspective about who I am in Christ and my role in this crazy world. I want to invite you all to pray for me and with me as I transition back to the US. Also please pray for our flights tomorrow. We have a 9 hour flight from Abuja, Nigeria to Frankfurt. Then we have another 9 hour flight back to Chicago. I will arrive in to Cincinnati Saturday evening. Thanks for all of your prayer while I've been here, it's been the most amazing experience of my life.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
What's In A Name??
I don't think often about my name. In fact, it's not all that often that people even call my by my first name. I'm not sure when this started happening, but for the most part, people are pretty content calling me "Rudge" and don't use Amy. I don't mind, it identifies me right?
After yesterday I have been thinking a lot about my name. Amy means "Beloved". I love that! I am assuming that my parents knew that when they named me, but maybe not. A lot of the time in our culture, we are named because our parents thought it sounded cool or they knew someone by that name and they liked it. I've heard it said that the best way to pick a name for your kid is to yell it off the back porch to make sure it sounds good when you are trying to get your kid to come home for dinner. But a name means a lot, and I love mine. For me it is prophecy. I know I am the beloved of God and it makes me smile when I think about what I am named.
Yesterday, we did a food ourtreach in one of the villages. We walked from house to house (hut to hut) and gave out rice, beans and oil. We also asked the people if we could pray for them. We had a translator with us named Daniel because this village spoke mostly Recuba, which is a village language here. As we asked people for prayer requests I would also ask them for their name so that we could pray for them by name. What I found was that a lot of the meanings for the names that we heard were not uplifting. One little boy's name meant "death". He was an adorable 4 year old who has his entire life ahead of him and he will carry that name with him. Another man's name meant "wayward." Apparently before he was born his mother lost 3 children at birth and so she named him wayward assuming that she would lose him as well. He was now over 50 years old and still carries that name.
As I was walking and talking with Daniel, he said that in his education his University did a research project looking at as many African languages as possible and they could not find a word for "future." He said that from what he knows, the word does not exist in Africa. That blows my mind. There is a concept for the future...like tomorrow or the next week, but it does not carry the meaning that our language gives to the concept of a future. I think about the students that I do ministry with in Cincinnati and they are told from the time they are very young that there is a future out there waiting for them. For the most part they are encouraged to go out and make the most of themselves, encouraged to do great things. Just listen to a commencement speech, whether 5th grade, 8th grade or high school, and you will understand what I am talking about. In this village, though, there is such a lack of hope. There are very few who look toward the future with any kind of expectation of great things. This is a huge thing that needs to change here. There needs to be a word that depicts moving from despair to hope. There needs to be encouragement that there is more than being born, being hungry, having children, getting sick and dying. Then maybe the names they give their children will be more like "beloved" or "hope." Then maybe the world will look a little brighter for the children of Africa.
After yesterday I have been thinking a lot about my name. Amy means "Beloved". I love that! I am assuming that my parents knew that when they named me, but maybe not. A lot of the time in our culture, we are named because our parents thought it sounded cool or they knew someone by that name and they liked it. I've heard it said that the best way to pick a name for your kid is to yell it off the back porch to make sure it sounds good when you are trying to get your kid to come home for dinner. But a name means a lot, and I love mine. For me it is prophecy. I know I am the beloved of God and it makes me smile when I think about what I am named.
Yesterday, we did a food ourtreach in one of the villages. We walked from house to house (hut to hut) and gave out rice, beans and oil. We also asked the people if we could pray for them. We had a translator with us named Daniel because this village spoke mostly Recuba, which is a village language here. As we asked people for prayer requests I would also ask them for their name so that we could pray for them by name. What I found was that a lot of the meanings for the names that we heard were not uplifting. One little boy's name meant "death". He was an adorable 4 year old who has his entire life ahead of him and he will carry that name with him. Another man's name meant "wayward." Apparently before he was born his mother lost 3 children at birth and so she named him wayward assuming that she would lose him as well. He was now over 50 years old and still carries that name.
As I was walking and talking with Daniel, he said that in his education his University did a research project looking at as many African languages as possible and they could not find a word for "future." He said that from what he knows, the word does not exist in Africa. That blows my mind. There is a concept for the future...like tomorrow or the next week, but it does not carry the meaning that our language gives to the concept of a future. I think about the students that I do ministry with in Cincinnati and they are told from the time they are very young that there is a future out there waiting for them. For the most part they are encouraged to go out and make the most of themselves, encouraged to do great things. Just listen to a commencement speech, whether 5th grade, 8th grade or high school, and you will understand what I am talking about. In this village, though, there is such a lack of hope. There are very few who look toward the future with any kind of expectation of great things. This is a huge thing that needs to change here. There needs to be a word that depicts moving from despair to hope. There needs to be encouragement that there is more than being born, being hungry, having children, getting sick and dying. Then maybe the names they give their children will be more like "beloved" or "hope." Then maybe the world will look a little brighter for the children of Africa.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
At The Table
While I've been here I've been reading a book about looking at the life of Jesus from a Jewish perspective. One of the things that the authors have hit on is the idea of hospitality in the Middle East (which is also true in Africa, by the way). In these cultures, being invited to dinner was a big deal. It signified friendship and intimacy and ultimately it was one person inviting another to live deeply together. As soon as the guest would step onto the person's property, that other person would take full responsibility for the guest's life. They would fight for you. Being invited to the table was being invited to live in the shelter of someone else.
This summer we have been talking a lot about God's shelter. In Psalm 91 God tells us that we are invited to live in His shelter. "Those who dwell in the shelter of the most high will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. (Ps 91:1-2) But there is something else that I'm learning. In Psalm 23:5 David says, "You prepare a table before me, in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows." Essentially God is telling us that when we come to His table, and we are all invited, He is our protection. He will fight for us.
On Friday night we had the CLAPAI kids over to our house for a celebration dinner. It was the last week of school for them before break and we wanted to honor them for a year of academic achievement. (Just as an aside, we cooked a goat...which I did not taste because we cooked the ENTIRE goat and it grossed me out). We made them certificates and the director called them up one by one and commended them for all they had accomplished this year. But as each one came up she shared a little bit about what they had been going through this year. Here is a snippet. Bincham has HIV. Godya met her father for the first time this year (she is 9) and he is a Muslim, and she doesn't want to be a Muslim. Lucky and Endurance are left alone for days at a time and have to fend for themselves. All of them have been impacted in one way or another by HIV. And as they came up one by one, Kyenpiya was talking about how we must pray for them and fight for them as they are up against insurmountable odds. I immediately thought about the table and how she and Emmanuel has invited each one of these kids to be guests at their table. They are fighting for these kids. They have given up everything in their lives to care for these kids. Why? Because God first loved them and invited them to the table.
God has invited each one of us to His table. He will fight for us. And He invited us to fight for others. So the question I have been asking is who are you fighting for? Who are you inviting to your table (both physically and spiritually)? Who are you caring for and building into? God is fighting for them already, but will we join Him?
This summer we have been talking a lot about God's shelter. In Psalm 91 God tells us that we are invited to live in His shelter. "Those who dwell in the shelter of the most high will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. (Ps 91:1-2) But there is something else that I'm learning. In Psalm 23:5 David says, "You prepare a table before me, in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows." Essentially God is telling us that when we come to His table, and we are all invited, He is our protection. He will fight for us.
On Friday night we had the CLAPAI kids over to our house for a celebration dinner. It was the last week of school for them before break and we wanted to honor them for a year of academic achievement. (Just as an aside, we cooked a goat...which I did not taste because we cooked the ENTIRE goat and it grossed me out). We made them certificates and the director called them up one by one and commended them for all they had accomplished this year. But as each one came up she shared a little bit about what they had been going through this year. Here is a snippet. Bincham has HIV. Godya met her father for the first time this year (she is 9) and he is a Muslim, and she doesn't want to be a Muslim. Lucky and Endurance are left alone for days at a time and have to fend for themselves. All of them have been impacted in one way or another by HIV. And as they came up one by one, Kyenpiya was talking about how we must pray for them and fight for them as they are up against insurmountable odds. I immediately thought about the table and how she and Emmanuel has invited each one of these kids to be guests at their table. They are fighting for these kids. They have given up everything in their lives to care for these kids. Why? Because God first loved them and invited them to the table.
God has invited each one of us to His table. He will fight for us. And He invited us to fight for others. So the question I have been asking is who are you fighting for? Who are you inviting to your table (both physically and spiritually)? Who are you caring for and building into? God is fighting for them already, but will we join Him?
Monday, August 3, 2009
Fireworks and Follies in Nigeria
I know that this story will be funny at some point (hopefully sooner rather than later), but I thought I'd share our blunder with you and let you decide for yourselves.
Last night we had our last "party" for the interns and staff here in Nigeria. We still have almost two weeks to go, but one of our interns is going home today, the Ramos family (a staff family who have been here all summer) is leaving tomorrow, and a group from Northstar Vineyard in Cincinnati is coming on Wednesday and we will all leave together on the 14th. So, it seemed like good timing to have a superhero themed party last night.
Well, the blunder came early into the evening when we decided it would be fun to light off some fireworks. One of the staff members had seen them lit off a week before somewhere close by, and she had purchased them here in Nigeria. They were the kind that shoot up into the air and then explode with a loud pop. Now, in the United States this would never be an issue, but read my post from a few days ago asking for prayer for Nigeria and you might understand where I'm headed with this. It was just a week ago that there were riots 3 hours north of here and over 400 people were killed. Last November in Jos there were riots between Muslims and Christians and a load of people were killed then as well. Our neighborhood is primarily Christian, and is on pretty high alert most of the time. Enter a bunch of Americans lighting off fireworks. It was only a few moments after we lit them off that there was a knock at the gate with a concerned...no irate...neighbor. We found out that one family didn't even bother to look outside or up in the sky, they immediately shut their lights off and layed down on the floor in case there was gunfire. And still today, after apology texts and letters from the acting director here, there have been a few phone calls from nervous neighbors.
What I've learned from this is that in Nigeria you can never be too careful with how you think about and look after those around you. An example of this is that we always wear long skirts whenever we are headed out around town or to the children's homes. It is culturally sensitive for us to do this as most women are very modest here. In the same vein, we were totally insensitive to the neighbors by not even thinking about what fireworks might mean for their fear and anxiety. I am learning...and hoping to bring this lesson back with me about being more sensitive to those around me and really thinking about how my actions might affect them.
Last night we had our last "party" for the interns and staff here in Nigeria. We still have almost two weeks to go, but one of our interns is going home today, the Ramos family (a staff family who have been here all summer) is leaving tomorrow, and a group from Northstar Vineyard in Cincinnati is coming on Wednesday and we will all leave together on the 14th. So, it seemed like good timing to have a superhero themed party last night.
Well, the blunder came early into the evening when we decided it would be fun to light off some fireworks. One of the staff members had seen them lit off a week before somewhere close by, and she had purchased them here in Nigeria. They were the kind that shoot up into the air and then explode with a loud pop. Now, in the United States this would never be an issue, but read my post from a few days ago asking for prayer for Nigeria and you might understand where I'm headed with this. It was just a week ago that there were riots 3 hours north of here and over 400 people were killed. Last November in Jos there were riots between Muslims and Christians and a load of people were killed then as well. Our neighborhood is primarily Christian, and is on pretty high alert most of the time. Enter a bunch of Americans lighting off fireworks. It was only a few moments after we lit them off that there was a knock at the gate with a concerned...no irate...neighbor. We found out that one family didn't even bother to look outside or up in the sky, they immediately shut their lights off and layed down on the floor in case there was gunfire. And still today, after apology texts and letters from the acting director here, there have been a few phone calls from nervous neighbors.
What I've learned from this is that in Nigeria you can never be too careful with how you think about and look after those around you. An example of this is that we always wear long skirts whenever we are headed out around town or to the children's homes. It is culturally sensitive for us to do this as most women are very modest here. In the same vein, we were totally insensitive to the neighbors by not even thinking about what fireworks might mean for their fear and anxiety. I am learning...and hoping to bring this lesson back with me about being more sensitive to those around me and really thinking about how my actions might affect them.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
A few pics
CLAPAI kids at a bee safari at the zoo.
This is a very typical scene in the village...mostly kids taking care of each other.
Daniel and Cynthia. They are both CLAPAI kids. Daniel is super smart and a great athlete. Cynthia is hilarious and has a great smile!!
This is Fumi. She lives at Our Ladies of Apostles (OLA) orphanage. She reads at about a 1st grade level or below, but the other day I was doing math with her and by the end of our time, she was adding double digits. It was amazing. She is a smart kid, but just hasn't had the opportunity!
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