Called, Part 2

In Called, Part 1, I shared how going to Africa was yet another leap of faith.

Though the very thought of accepting the invitation made my heart beat nearly out of my chest, I had to still my heart and remember God's faithfulness in times before.  Both India and the Dominican Republic fell into my lap in like manner and I can't even imagine where I'd be today had I "pulled a Jonah ."

With India, God enlightened the eyes of my heart and began speaking to me in a way I never knew before.  He took me deeper into Himself, and He in me, as He planted the seed "for all the world to know" of His Son.  At the time, I had no idea what God was laying before me, but I knew I wanted to follow wherever He would lead me.  Some call it adventure, others call it "the wild goose chase"... I just knew I wanted more.

With the Dominican, where do I even begin?  My first year homeschooling missionary kids, my second year transitioning to Cups of Cold Water and starting an empower girls' program, and then being brought out to Loma where I've been for the past year... I've witnessed God's movement in ways I can't explain.

But I believe the real reason God brought me to the Dominican Republic was not for a ministry or mission to others, but for Him to bend and break and crush and refine and burn away and carve and mold and transform me for His glory and in preparation for what's still to come... not that this process is ever complete.  I have been through trials and testings I would never wish on anyone, yet every single time, I have come up from the wilderness leaning on my Beloved and will continue doing so (Song of Solomon 8:5).

This last year alone, God began revealing to me His heart and purposes behind covenant relationships, specifically how God created marriage between man and wife to reflect Christ's relationship to the Church, and the significance in how we ought "not stir up or awaken love before it pleases" (Song of Solomon 8:4).  I've been fascinated by Him in this revelation that seems so simple yet so intricate as Jesus' body broken and His blood poured out was and still is an invitation to drink of the marriage cup as He proposes to a wayward bride.

This video journal by Mike Donehey of Tenth Avenue North still blows my mind as he humorously yet poignantly lays out the significance of what Jesus did at the last supper. You HAVE to watch this.

These last 3 years, God, in His redemptive power, sent me to minister to young girls to reveal the truth of who they are and who they were made to be in Him.  This ministry has expanded beyond my expectations to boys, young women, and mothers, too.  

Yet through it all, I now understand that my calling has never been to teach children, start up a program, mentor young girls, or preach purity... it has always been to reveal Jesus Christ. 

Now, getting back to Africa...

Like Mike Donehey said in his video journal, I figured I've been with Jesus this long... let's see how far this "rabbit hole" goes.  God made it very easy and very clear to me that He wanted me on that trip.  And, well, my God never acts without a purpose.

As I shared before, God opened my eyes to the simplicity of life and being humbled by the selfless service we received from our Maasai brothers and sisters in Christ.  But I knew there was something more God wanted to show me. Something more I was supposed to see. 

And then it hit me like a ton of bricks sitting in brother Lucas' living room our last full day there.

Up to that point, we had been doing bible school and spending time with the kids.  I made a point of attempting to memorize names... I say attempt because some names are quite interesting and, well, when there's over 100, it can be difficult.  But there must be great value in our names if God knows them all (Isaiah 43:1) and it's something that has been placed on my heart to do. 

This was our first day together, and as you can see, this little group consisted of all girls....  Toeme, Gracie, Angelina, Napokeke, Magde, and Maria.

Pointing at each girl, I would point back at myself, say my name, and wait for them to give their own before going into a sort of "name game" down the line.  One more lesson... though none of us spoke the other's language, God's love is its own and translates all. 

Want to take a guess at their ages? Around 8 to 13 years old.  It's funny how the Lord does that, especially since this was a pivotal age in my own life.  It has been fun sharing with my Dominican girls, who are also between the ages of 8 and 13 years, the similarities and differences between their cultures.  

However, there's one that I haven't felt comfortable sharing just yet. 

After lunch Thursday afternoon, Pastor Rogers called us all outside, telling us we "had to see this!"  We all stepped out onto Lucas' front porch and saw a group of young Maasai boys walking off in the distance with makeshift bow and arrows, fully adorned in Maasai robes, jewelry, and limestone paint.

Pastor Rogers standing with the group of Maasai boys with Lucas and the rest of us on the porch

Upon inviting these young boys over, we discovered that they were on a journey into the "jungle" to meet Maasai elders from whom they would learn their tribe's traditions.  If we understood correctly, these boys were all circumcised together on June 20th as part of their rite of passage. 

Nothing establishes a brotherhood quite like that.   We tried asking which among these boys was the "leader" but no one was willing to own up to it.  From what I've researched, the "Olopolosi olkiteng" , or chosen chief of the boys, is a position not desired and considered unfortunate as they shoulder the group's sins.  Whether or not this is a belief held by this particular group of boys, I cannot say, but can you imagine what the truth of knowing Jesus could do?

We came back inside and found our seats in Lucas' living room.  Having just learned of the rites of passage for young Maasai men, I was curious and nervous to learn the rites of passage in place for my new friends Toeme, Gracie, Angelina, Napokeke, Magde, and Maria.

What I learned broke my heart.  In like manner, according to Masai tradition and as early as 10 years of age, girls are circumcised to ensure their satisfaction in marriage is found only in serving and caring for their family.  Although female genital mutilation is illegal in Tanzania, it is unfortunately still practiced among many in the Maasai tribe and Muslim religion.

I can't even begin to explain the emotions that were swelling inside me upon hearing this.  I was indignant, sad, confused, upset, but at the same time holding it all in out of respect for the culture.  

Pastor Rogers went on to explain that girls are often given into arranged marriage before even leaving their mother’s womb… and to men as old as 50 years their senior.  The practice of having multiple wives is not uncommon to Maasai culture, which I also learned is one of the biggest struggles the church faces there.  

"So, when is the marriage consummated and becomes official?" I was having a hard time formulating my words at this point.

              "Often times, the girls are sent to be raised in the home of their husbands while they are still young."

"What I think Lauren is asking is when do they become physically intimate?" Doug more pointedly asked my question as words were getting lost in translation.

              "Well," Pastor Rogers took a few seconds to pause and find right the words, "You remember the young lady we met yesterday? She is 19 years old and has 4 children.  I can't say an exact age, but you can guess."

Pastor Rogers with the young woman, fellow wives, and their children

At this point in the conversation I'm trying to inconspicuously wipe tears from my eyes, attempting not to lose it in front of everyone.  I couldn't stop thinking of the girls in the village and wondering whom among them have been circumcised and pledged in marriage already.

What does one do with this sort of information? You want to help, you want to do something, but is there really anything we can do?  Even if God called us to do something, tradition is a hard thing to break.  Besides, their traditions and customs have worked for them thus far.

My mind starts reeling...  what do you say to the men with 4 wives who recently accepted Jesus? Do you counsel them to choose one wife and discard the others?  The women would be shamed if they are cast off, having no other means of provision.  I then start thinking how horrible it would be to suddenly be denied physical affection from one's spouse, but then again, after having undergone female genital mutilation, it might actually be a relief.  

As I process and judge these traditions according to God's word, I'm immediately frustrated and torn...

As I mentioned before, God has so beautifully revealed to me in detail His design for marriage this past year, strengthening and fueling my resolve to wait until marriage. And there is a reason for that.  But then I think... what about all the great kings and men in the bible who took more than one wife in addition to many concubines, not the least of whom being King David, a man after God's heart.  How do you begin reconciling that? 

And look at Mary, the mother of Jesus.  Most scholars say she was probably somewhere between 12 and 14 years of age. She and Joseph did eventually consummate their marriage to one another after Jesus was born.  If this age was appointed by God back then, is it any more wrong today?

In my humanness, I want to right what I perceive to be wrong, but I know there is no easy solution.  The roots to these customs run generations deep and who are we to judge?

When my brain succumbs to the confusion of it all, I know the only answer is Jesus.  

I find myself being reminded of the story of the woman at the well in John 4.  Jesus, a Jewish man, asks a Samaritan woman for water... He's already crossing religious and social barriers in doing so.  He then offers her living water, to which confuses her as He had nothing to draw this water from...

 "Jesus said to her, 'Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.'  The woman said to him, 'Sir, give me this water, so that I will not be thirsty or have to come here to draw water.'

"Jesus said to her, 'Go, call your husband, and come here.' The woman answered Him, 'I have no husband.' Jesus said to her, 'You are right in saying, "I have no husband'; for you have had five husbands, and the one you now have is not your husband.  what you have said is true.'"

Ouch.  Talk about being called out.

Though this woman had never been legally married, she had been married to 5 different men in God's eyes as the result of becoming "one flesh" with them.  Essentially, she has desecrated a sacred covenant.  Is this really any different than what is happening in America, the Dominican, Tanzania, or any other parts of the world?  

Did Jesus shame her and cast her out for this?  No.

Knowing who she was and with whom she had relations, Jesus still offered and revealed Himself to her as the Anointed One.  It didn't matter what she did before, but what mattered was if she would partake of this living water.  And she did.

"Many Samaritans from that town believed in Him because of the woman's testimony, 'He told me all that I ever did.' So when the Samaritans came to Him, they asked Him to stay with them, and He stayed there two days.  And many more believed because of His word.  They said to the woman, 'It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is indeed the Savior of the world."

Where am I getting at with this? 

The problems of this world are not ours to fix.

God has only called us to reveal His Son Jesus Christ to a world that so desperately needs Him.

My heart still aches and grieves for these beautiful girls in Tanzania, but before I left I could hear the voice of my Lord saying, 

“Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?  I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”                            

Isaiah 43:19 

Through the faithfulness of supporters to B2BU Ministries, Inc., the second building of Tumaini School is being completed.  Tumaini, in Swahali, means “hope” and there is not another word more poignant to describe the impact this school is already having on this community… and it has only just begun.  

The first school building nearly complete

 The second building in progress

As a teacher, I have witnessed firsthand the impact a godly education can have on a child’s self-worth and confidence, and I can only imagine the plans God has to restore hope and transform lives for His glory in the fulfillment of Tumaini school vision.  

       

I went for a week, but a piece of my heart will stay forever.  My God has yet to fail me in proving He is able to do far more abundantly than all we can ask or ever imagine…

You can read more about Maasai customs and traditions at  www.maasai-association.org/ceremonies.html

Called, Part 1

Africa.

Wow, I still can't believe God sent me to Africa.

This year has been one surprise after another.  It's as if meeting the author of the books I've been reading to the girls and boys in Loma, or hosting her in my Dominican house, or witnessing the fulfillment of a God-given vision of a ceremony weren't enough!

Jennie Bishop with Princesa Rosaura

I had a feeling 2015 would be an exciting year full of fulfillment of visions and prayers...

But I certainly wasn't expecting Africa.

Africa has never even been on my radar.  Some people receive a passion for or calling to a nation or people group, but that's never been the case for me.  There has never been anything special about the Dominican Republic to me, either... although, the beaches and tropical climate are quite nice.

God said, "Go."  So, I went.

And when God said "go" again, this time He knew I'd need some encouragement in the form of a dream, an invitation, and a paid ticket.  As it was when I went to India and the DR the first time, I took a huge leap of faith and trusted God had a purpose and reason for which He was calling me.  Nothing could have prepared me for what all He had in store as a result of obeying His call before...

So, when God called me to Africa, I went with no expectations other than the thrilling anticipation that God was going to reveal something to me.

Well, I lie.  

I went with one more expectation... that my mad skills at squatty-potty-ing in India might come in handy... 

...and they sure did.

And really, it wasn't that bad.  Many nights of bonding time were spent here as we girls alternated who held the flashlight over the door, who chose the song we'd sing, and who squatted.  I'm certain the Masai families around us thought we Americans are some of the most peculiar human beings.  For starters, we use toilet paper... add in that we were singing, for those of us who have "stage fright," and well, you get the picture.  The worship song "Holy Spirit" will never be the same again...

But let's get back on track, shall we?

The plane rides were long but we finally landed in the Mt. Kilamanjaro airport a day later. 

Our first two days were spent in the cities of Moshi and Arusha as we acclimated ourselves to the culture.  We played "The Price is Right" at the market, brushing up on our bartering skills.  I felt like a fish out of water as I no longer knew the language or currency... Spanish and pesos, sure, but Swahili and shillings? I lost the game on a few items and overpaid... such is life!

 At a cultural heritage center in Arusha

 At the market place in Arusha

   My flip flop broke, but Heather is a genius!                            Looks like a Dominican gua-gua, eh?

Ultimately, it was an experience of a lifetime... how often can you say you bought a traditional Masai headdress made by Masai woman right before your eyes?  

I can't wait to share this piece with my princesses here.  This Masai headdress is what their fellow princesses in Tanzania wear on special occasions much like their tiaras for their ceremony!

Among our other excursions, we hiked Mt. Kilamanjaro, too. Well, at least 8 km of it.  What goes up, must come down... that's 16 km total for anyone who's counting.  It was strenuous but worth the climb.

As we scaled the mountain, a few of us were talking about how cool it would be if we saw monkeys.  In that moment, John 14:13-14 popped in my head...

"Whatever you ask in My name, this I will do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son.  If you ask Me anything in My name, I will do it." 

So, we prayed and asked Jesus to see monkeys.  I kid you not, 20 minutes later there were at least 10 monkeys swinging around.  IT WAS THE COOLEST THING!  I love my God.

 Can you see them?

          This must have been in the beginning...                             Freddie, easily mistaken for a monkey

 We made it!

Sunday we went to church on the TPC Sugar Plantation before heading out to where we would be staying the rest of our trip.  It is always such a joy to experience the presence of God in corporate worship like we did that morning... I only was able to pick up on the words "God," "Jesus", and "I love you," in Swahili, but that's all I really needed.

There was such a sweet, pure presence there that morning as hearts were turned in repentance and desperately seeking the Lord.

Pastor Doug giving the message with Pastor Rogers

Service was followed by food and fellowship.  Tanzanians, like Dominicans, place importance on hospitality and are eager to serve their guests.  These brothers and sisters are living examples of what Paul wrote in Philippians 2:3 of counting others more significant than ourselves.

After lunch, we set out for Kiruani, our new home for the next 5 days.  We spent three days teaching vacation bible school in the morning and two of those days heading back out to the sugar plantation for another round of bible school in the afternoon.  During downtime we were encouraged to visit and play with the kids who would gather on the front porch from all over the countryside.

Their favorite song was "Allelu, Allelu, Allelu, Allelujah.... Si fue bwana!" in the loudest voice possible!

 Our last morning with the kids... all 180-some of them!

       

 Our third day's lesson was on Daniel and the Lion's Den with masks and a totally foreign game to them of "Danieli, Danieli, Simba!" (like "duck, duck, goose")

With some of the kids on the sugar plantation

Once more, we were shown what true hospitality looks like as Lucas, our host, literally gave us his home for the week.  

People... HE GAVE US HIS HOME.  

Who does that?

We slept in their beds, ate at their table, sat on their furniture.  Unlike the traditional Masai mud hut, Lucas had built this house two years ago for he and his family, having acquired money through his crops and cattle.

The women of the church had food on the table every morning, noon, and evening.  One of the women would come around with a bowl of warmed water before each meal for us to wash our hands and would pray a blessing over our food.  Breakfast was bread, fruit, and coffee/tea... some of us were even brave enough to drink the fresh cow milk. Both lunch and dinner everyday consisted of white rice, spaghetti noodles, potato and goat stew, cooked cabbage, fruit, and french fries (because, they know we Americans like our french fries...).  

Where our food was prepared and the sweet ladies who took care of us

And if that weren't enough, these sisters in Christ literally went the extra mile to fetch us buckets of water to bathe in from the well located about 3/4 of a mile from the house.  And not only would they retrieve the water, but they would heat it up for us on a wood fire which they kindled themselves.  We all were so grateful for this gesture as it is winter in Tanzania and the temperatures in the morning and evening were somewhere in the 60's.  

Heather trying her hand at pumping water

The boys showing us how it's done

I am telling you... we were treated as royalty and I have never been more humbled as my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ valued us above themselves.

And what's more is that we were out in what seemed like the middle of nowhere.

No electricity.  No running water.  No internet. 

Nothing.  

Yet, there is something to be said about the simplicity of life in Kiruani.  The peace that I experienced out among the stars at night and in the quiet of the day was unlike anything I've known.  There wasn't the constant checking of social media between breaks or corresponding in emails back home.  This was not a possibility for us.  When it's not available, your mind disassociates from the habit.  

I have to say, I miss this freedom.

Don't get me wrong, I love the internet.  10 days without it was a blessing, but I know this would get old real fast.  The whole no running water and no electricity would eventually get to me, too... but it makes me much more grateful when I encounter electrical and water problems here in the DR.

We take so much for granted.  You can't go on a mission trip without being smacked in the face with this truth.  Eating dinner over candle light at night, bathing with one bucket of water every few days, using a hole in the ground for a toilet....  I realized I can get by with so much less than I imagined.

However, this was just the beginning of what God revealed to me in Tanzania...

Stay tuned... there's more.

Delayed Luggage and a Change of Perspective

June has come and gone, as well as my brief trip to the states and Africa.  Isn't it incredible how quickly time passes?

Many have inquired about Africa and what God has revealed to me there, yet unfortunately, this blog wont be about that...

Not yet.

I'm still processing through much of what I experienced.  Traveling from one mission field to another with a quick week in the states can do a number on your emotions.  My parents can attest to this as there wasn't a day with them that I wasn't breaking down in tears over something.

No, this one is about my case of the Mondays on Monday.

I had had my fill of traveling for one month (about 50 hours in total to be exact) and honestly, I didn't want to see another plane, let alone get on one.  But when I arrived in the DR this week, I wanted to jump on the next plane and turn right back around.

Why? Well, to make a terribly long day of travel woes short, my luggage was nowhere to be found on the conveyor belt in Puerto Plata.

Seems harmless enough, right? It's just stuff.  No big deal.  And though my heart knew this, my head was reeling in panic...

What if someone walked out with it?

Did it get left in Orlando? in Miami? 

Has someone gone through it and taken items?

Will I ever see it again?

These fears haven't emerged out of nowhere.  I have had items mysteriously vanish from my suitcase before in my 5 years of traveling to the DR.  I have borne witness to an entire sewing machine disappearing from a missionary's belongings.  Though the airline system here has significantly improved in the past couple years, there's still a part of me that does not trust and it grieves my heart to admit this.

But what it really came down to is in who, or rather, what I had placed my security.  I was brought to the realization that clearly not all my security was in the Lord, which I repented of the following day.

Having traveled half way around the world and back just the week before and transitioning back into temporary life in the states before returning to my "home" in the DR, I would be dishonest if I said I had faithfully and steadily continued cultivating my relationship with the Lord.

We spoke to one another and knew one another was there, but God did not have my undivided devotion.  I forsook our quiet times together and it was evident by my moodiness and irritability (sorry, mom and dad).  Like my nightly need of 8+ hours of sleep, if I haven't spent sufficient time with my Jesus, watch out.

I know skimping on my time with God grieves the Holy Spirit.  So what do I do? I do the very thing I ought not to do and, in so many words, hide.  But I knew on Tuesday that, having returned with one less bag, to a lawn decorated with a week's worth of dirty diapers and used feminine products courtesy of my dogs, a dead car battery, and the loveliest shade of lime green in the shared pool out back...I desperately needed my Lord and Savior.

I put on an International House of Prayer (IHOP) worship set and immediately was ministered to as Laura Hackett Park began singing over and over...

"You're never gonna let, never gonna let me down... You are good, You are good.... My life is good in Him."

I admit, my thoughts were contrary to this truth at that moment so I asked for forgiveness and for the Holy Spirit to renew my mind in Him as I allowed these words to wash over me.

Then, I heard the Lord instruct me to ask of Him and it shall be given unto me (Matthew 7:7).

Can we just stop for a moment?  In my neglect of the Lord, He offers Himself and tells me I will be given whatever I ask for?  He is one merciful and long-suffering God.

So, I began asking the Lord to not only return my luggage to me but to recover it completely untouched.  At my request for my bag to be recovered, I was instantly reminded of a story of  David when he went into the enemy's camp and recovered all that was taken.  I went searching for this story in the bible and found it in 1 Samuel 30.

"David recovered all that the Amalekites had taken, and David rescued his two wives. Nothing was missing, whether small or great, sons or daughters, spoil or anything that had been taken.  David brought back all."

Whoa.  More reason to why we must hide His word in our hearts!  The Holy Spirit has a way of bringing  seemingly discreet parts of scripture to remembrance for divine purposes.  I knew at this moment that God was promising He would recover this bag to me with nothing missing, "whether small or great."

Two days later, I picked up my bag with nothing missing.  I think this is the first time in the history of my Dominican travels where there was not even a TSA proof of inspection note inside.

HE IS FAITHFUL! HALLELUJAH!

And after all this ordeal, God still had an object lesson in there for me.  Are you ready for this? It's a doozy.

As I was washing dishes alone last night, I began thinking about posts I just saw on Facebook of friends' dating, engagements, weddings, pregnancies, and birth announcements and photos... being friends with fellow late 20-somethings will flood your newsfeed with these things like crazy.  Any single woman can attest to this, and though I do rejoice with these friends immensely (please don't hear me wrong), I allowed it to get the best of me as my selfish thought of "when is it my turn?" manifested itself into a helpless spoon being chucked in the drying rack.

Sure, God is willing and ready to answer my prayer of recovering a delayed suitcase, but where is the fulfillment of prayers for my husband?

Over a year ago, someone asked me if I've ever considered a life of celibacy and that, perhaps, God was calling me to a life of singleness for His glory.... Well, to be quite frank, that felt like a slap in the face.  I quickly rebutted that this was not what I believed God was calling me to, but now I'd be lying if I told you the thought hasn't crossed my mind... daily.  I have flourished living on my own and have hours to spend with the Lord however I want.  I can worship for hours, read for hours, follow God's prompting on who I go visit in the village and on what days, and I only have to make breakfast, lunch and dinner for myself.  I don't even have to share Netflix.  Not a bad life at all!

Yet, I get lonely and not in the "I need a roommate" lonely kind of way.  Lord knows I don't need another dog, either.

I've shared before how it's been my prayer for 2 years that God would send a man after God's heart to pursue my own heart in front of the girls, boys, and families in the village, a testimony that "no one who waits on the Lord will ever be put to shame" (Psalm 25:3).   But what if that was never God's will for this ministry?  I sense my time in the DR is nearing an end and it is a real possibility that there could never be a fulfillment of this desire and prayer.

The first thought that entered my mind upon learning that my suitcase did not arrive with me was that this was the work of the enemy.  I prayed the Lord's favor and protection over this bag before parting ways in Orlando... how could Satan penetrate the blood of Jesus?  The answer is, he can't.

Maybe my delayed luggage was God's favor and protection....  Hear me out.

There could have been sticky fingers working at the baggage claim on Monday or maybe someone would have walked out with my bag who was on the plane that day.  What if the delayed luggage was my answer for God's favor and protection, and though it was an inconvenience, to see the fulfillment of His promise to me, I had to wait a little bit longer.

Like with my suitcase, I know my prayers have been heard, not the least of which being for the man God has prepared to be my husband and partner in ministry.  For some reason, there's a delay, and though you'd think I would have learned to be content in the waiting by now, it's still a process and I'm still human.

So, for any of you who think, "Lauren has it all together...  She always trusts in the Lord... She never doubts,"  you can go ahead and knock me off that pedestal.  I waver more than I like to admit, but my God, He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Things aren't always as they appear and God's ways are higher than our own ways (Isaiah 55:8-9).  We can try to understand it all, but there just aren't enough helpless spoons to throw in this world.  What we do have is one faithful, patient, and merciful God who loves us with an everlasting love.  Do we really need anything more?

I'm taking deep breaths and little steps back into routine.  Since my return, my car battery has recharged, the pool is slowly coming back to normal, and the yard is free of unsanitary items, except for the occasional dead bird or animal hoof Princesita retrieves every now and then.

And tomorrow is a new day with new mercies.

Selah.