Preconversations

Do you ever walk through conversations in your head? You know, conversations you’re anticipating (or would like to have, but aren’t guaranteed). I find myself doing that a lot, especially in reference to doing them in another language.

Okay, so I’m going to the dentist today. How do you say crown/cavity/numb my mouth in French? How do I explain that my top right molar is hurting?

Or, sadly, I have preconversation-confrontation-conversations in my head. Like recently, with our new landlord (who I feel wasn’t fair or honest with us in several ways).

You didn’t tell us that we share a wall with a daara (which is short enough for the boys to peek over or jump)! You were so pushy and forceful. You can’t treat us that way. We’ll take our money and leave if this is the way you treat us. You should be thankful to have us as renters because we’ll take care of your house! And you treat us this way?!

Or, the man who helped us find our house (and charged a crazy fee to do so).

Shame on you for telling us we could get an electric meter in 48 hours. You knew it wasn’t that easy and you only wanted our money. I’ll never suggest your services to any of my friends!

Oh, my. Jesus brought some sense to my head from the Sermon on the Mount yesterday. (That passage, by the way, has lately been one slap on the hand after another)

You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’  But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,  that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.  If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?  Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
These words echo in my head now when I start that preconversation-confrontation-conversation with my landlord (or, sometimes his wife who asks for taxi money anytime she comes to get money from us!).

The words I say to my kids echo in my head.


Trust me. I’m not trying to take away your fun. I’m not trying to ruin your life. I know what I’m doing and it’s best to do things God’s way, even if you've been wronged. Even if it's difficult.

Even if it’s difficult.

Reading Tea Leaves

We were really pleased when it became apparent that we’d be returning to Senegal fully supported. Our excitement came less from a financial standpoint and more from a ‘wow-God’s-really-confirming-our-calling’ sort of standpoint. It seemed, to us, apparent that He had big plans for our return. Deepened relationships, more developed ministry (read: we will be busier), language skill, and so on.

It has been almost 2 weeks and we still don’t have an electric meter for our house. We’re still stuck in limbo, in our temporary house on the other side of town. Away from our church. Away from our friends. Away from anything we imagined for ministry. We don’t really know how to move forward and there’s no guarantee in sight of receiving that meter any time soon.

But, Lord, I thought You were saying you’d smooth the road before us. I thought You were showing us that there would be work for us to do.


Reading tea leaves is an ancient practice of divining the future from the dregs at the bottom of a tea cup. Sometimes, I do my own Christian version of reading tea leaves. Like, assuming answering our prayer for support was confirmation of ministry for us in Senegal. Read: right-away-when-I-think-it-should-be type ministry. It very well may be that confirmation that we thought. But it may include other aspects, too.

Apparently, if I may reinterpret the situation, I need a little more personal refinement. Like patience, or faith, or a whole host of other fruits that need watering on the tree of my life.

I don’t know why things are as they are. We may receive that meter tomorrow and be able to go forward with (our) plans to use our home for ministry. It may be 4 months- like friends of ours experienced.


Either way, I cannot read the mind of the Lord. But, I do know that He has brought me here and His grace will keep me.

Neighbors

Did you see that list of questions I typed up to ask when house hunting in Senegal? Well, we forgot to ask the one about daaras.

There’s a daara behind our house.

Now, this isn’t the end of the world. But it could make things interesting.

What is a daara, you say? It’s a home for talibe boys. These are not, per say, street kids. But, you wouldn’t know that if you saw one.

Sometimes, Senegalese parents choose to give their children over to a Marabout (Muslim religious leader) to give them a Koranic education. The Marabout is supposed to educate them in the Koran and also teach them humility. They do this by requiring that the boys beg and bring him about a dollar each day.

There are some Marabouts who do this, some who don’t. Regardless, the boys don’t get a proper school education. So, the boys who stay into their teens don’t learn to read or write and aren’t equipped with a skill to find them a job in adulthood. Sometimes the boys aren’t fed if they don’t bring in the money the marabout requires. Sometimes they’re abused. Even in the best of daaras, it’s a terrible life for a child.

There is an undeniable link here between poverty, Islam, & exploitation.

We don’t know anything about this particular darra yet. We hope to have a good relationship with the Marabout and not too much trouble with the boys.


Some days, I’ll be annoyed with the chanting and noise. Or, the ringing of my doorbell.

Some days, my heart will break to see motherless children walking down my street in rags.

Some days, I’ll be angry over the injustice and wickedness of this practice that is allowed to persist in Senegal.

Pray for us. We probably wouldn’t have taken the house if we had known this. We actually turned down another house for this reason. The Lord knew; that’s for sure.

Jesus is Better Than a Hot Shower

We don’t have a water heater in our temporary home. Not a huge problem most days. I heat water for the kids to bathe in a big bowl and Eric & I take cold showers.

We’ve come up with a method: First, wash extremities- arms, then legs. Second, the core. By that time, your body is “used to” (using that term lightly) the temperature of the water and I can do my hair. Not my preference, but not that bad either.

Last night, however, after I had soaped up, the water pressure dropped (no pump here either) and wouldn’t come out of the shower head any longer. So, I had to finish my shower using the faucet. With little water pressure. In cold water.

I was not happy.

It came at the end of a day full of small frustrations- trying to homeschool 2 kids with a toddler on my leg, said toddler wouldn’t eat & was thus grumpy all day, planning meals in advance so we can actually eat something other than bread or eggs (which I didn’t have either), finding out that our new home- which still doesn’t have an electric meter, thus we can’t move in- is located next to a daara (home for talibe boys). Forgot to ask that particular question about this particular house.

Do you ever have a bad day, deal with it, and the next morning there’s some latent bad attitude still hanging around? Happens to me quite frequently.

Woke up, schooled 2 kids with a toddler on my leg (or, crawling on the table, dumping out the pencil sharpener shavings and all the math manipulatives). Didn’t know what to have for lunch, etc., etc.

Ate leftovers and sat down to read my Bible.

Philippians 3:8 & following:

“I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish in order that I may gain Christ...”

It’s not a usual application, but I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that I have counted hot showers as loss because I know Jesus and have followed His call to the nations. If I were in America, water pressure or temperature wouldn’t be an issue.

God’s Word is beautiful. I love that He spoke to me today. I hope I remember what He said when I take a shower tonight...

Waiting

Eric typed this on his phone earlier today...


Waiting.

Just the word alone can make me uncomfortable. I don't really like to wait, but waiting is what I have been doing all day. What makes it even better is that most of the time I have no idea why I am waiting or how long I will be waiting for.

Siting on a concrete bench at the police station is not what I thought I would be doing today. I am only here because I need a signed photo copy of my I.D. Card so I can get electricity hooked up at the new house we are renting (So, yes, house found. More later on that). There is only one guy who can sign the paper and so I wait for the moment when he decides to sign it. Is he siting in his office doing something? I don't know. Is he sitting in his office eating lunch? No clue. Is he even here at all? That is a good question.

When I am done waiting here I will go to the power company to wait there. Hopefully, I will not be waiting there as long as I have here because I have a friend with me who "knows" someone who works there. My friend is a mechanic, so while he sits and waits with me, the cars he is suppose to be working on are waiting on him.

Round and round the waiting goes. Where it stops... No one knows.

Oh, the irony.

House Hunt

You could say that looking for a house here is...well...interesting. These are a few things we have found ourselves asking:

Will people be able to look into my house because the living room or a bedroom is built into the outside wall (because, believe me, they will!)?

Is it even possible to install a hot water heater?

Is it next door to a boutique (mini convenience store), workshop (no zoning laws here), or daara (home for talibe boys)?

How's the cross-ventilation in the bedrooms?

Do you think the house will take in water during the rainy season?

Is the roof usable?

Will our car fit into the garage?

Just how close is the closest mosque (and how big are their loudspeakers)?

Does it have a water reservoir and a pump, or will we need to install one?


Eric is out looking at houses as I type. He's actually found one that we may move forward on. Simple, but a great location. We'll keep you posted.

Cravings

We have been back in the States for over a month now and, while some of the cravings we had in Senegal have faded, others seem to only grow stronger.