The First Goodbye

Time is dwindling down, days fly by and it seems too soon I’ll be leaving here! I have much to do before leaving, so I am planning out my days with much prayer and prudence! Yesterday I went to visit a good friend of mine. He is an older man for Benin that is, being he is 53 years old. He works at the mayor’s office in the civil department giving people their identity cards. His name is Laurent. He has helped me greatly with culture study research. Manny and I spent three days with him in February, enjoying thoroughly the time together. He loves to talk which is helpful when I need to ask him a lot of questions. He also has two sons that live at home, Armand and Olivier, some of the nicest guys I know in Benin, well mannered and caring, unfortunately not always too common among young folks here. But thanks to their father I surmise, he is a man of principle and virtue. He is always working on some new project on his several acres of property on the outskirts of town. I knew that it would be last chance to stop by his house, as he is only there on Saturdays and Sundays, working the rest of the week. So I stopped by to share a meal and conversation. I gave him a book as a thank you present, the French translation of “Bible Readings for the Home”. The man devours books, and he was thoroughly thankfully for the gift, saying he might not get much sleep that night! I always pray for him, that he will see the light of God’s word fully. He is very faithful in his Assembly of God church and has left all the traditions behind. But he is very tolerant. What I mean he allows everyone to have their opinion, surprisingly post-modern mindset. For him, what he believes is good for him, but maybe not for someone else. This is perhaps worse than someone who is a straight pagan, at least this type of person when convicted sees how twisted the old ways are and how liberating a life in Christ is. A man like Laurent well educated and open to anything, is hard to convince that there is absolute truth, good thing the Holy Spirit does all the convicting and I just maybe do the talking and praying. But I can sense him questioning. This last visit we discussed Jehovah’s witnesses, who don’t believe in the Trinity. He asked me what I thought of this, I mentioned how either Jesus is the Son of God or He is a liar or a lunatic. This he agrees with, but here’s a challenge to his openness, the Jehovah’s witnesses believe what is wrong? So not everything is right if you believe it? Questions are such a good way to get people to arrive at their own conclusions, the series by Shawn Boonstra and Jeff Rosario in my last entry talk about this, very powerful. Well we ate late, the usual in these parts. I was really tired after the big campmeeting weekend, but I knew I could sleep in on Monday and this was our last visit! Laurent wished me much success and God’s blessings. We know that we may never see each other here on earth again, I hope we can both meet in Heaven.

Atacora Campmeeting

This past weekend was a big get together for all the Atacora region churches. There was the folks from Koutie-Tchatidoh, our church from Natitingou, the evangelist Bony from Touchountouna and a member from a church in nearby Togo. We all met at the Boukoumbé church about an hour northwest of Nati. It was a real neat experience. They area churches are trying to make a tradition of meeting at a different location every thirteenth Sabbath, as much as possible. This thirteenth Sabbath was also the day after Christmas, so everyone was together to celebrate Jesus’ birthday too, well the day we remember his birth that is. I was able to bring most of the pathfinders along. There nineteen of us, three non-pathfinders, but still young people from our church. All the kids really enjoyed it. It was a bit tiring though, as on Christmas day we stayed up with the program at the church until midnight or so. Then up at six to get ready for church. The morning church service was done by our pathfinders as well as some songs from the choirs of Koutie and Nati. I shared the message, translated of course into Ditimarri, as half the people gathered didn’t understand French. I shared about Joseph, Jesus’ earthly Father chose to risk his reputation and his whole life to accept Mary as his wife with child, and that he was used as an instrument to help bring God’s salvation to earth, and how we too can be used to share God’s salvation with others. In the afternoon there was a parade with our pathfinders marching along, and members from the others churches in tow. The kids sang loud, but by the end they were pretty tired. It was a real neat experience. I didn’t even know we’d be doing a parade, and as we marched I realized God had unexpectedly given me a great gift, as I had not been able to be in a parade yet with the pathfinders and leaving in January there were not be another change, Praise the Lord! He does beyond what we ask or imagine! We left on Sunday morning at 6:30, and arrived in Nati by 7:45. This is a dusty time of year so the dirt road drive gave all of our hair a nice red tinge! I thank God for His blessing and for the opportunity to be a part of the work here in Benin.

Big words, little words

I am someone that appreciates words, and their impact on me. It can be a weakness, because I may
ride up and down on them, that is I will feel moved, and touched by something, and the next minute
not feel that feeling, and move on. That's why God said to hide His word in our hearts, a place where
it is fixed and not just in one out the other. The other danger is that the words don't change my life,
that I hear them or read them, but still continue on doing what I want to. How does my perspective change?
Is there something I need to give to God in my life? Questions are good to ask after being moved.
There are big words, aka sermons, books, Bible passages. Thoughts and writings that you can really chew
and get into. A book that has been helping me recently is "Overcoming through Jesus" by Bill Liverslidge,
basics of salvation and I often forget, or never even thought of before. I've been listening to sermons on my Mp3
too, here are the links to some real powerful ones.

http://www.audioverse.org/people/234/shawn-boonstra.html

http://www.audioverse.org/people/70/jeffrey-rosario.html
Engaging The Culture, Part I
Jeffrey Rosario · 08-12-18 2:30 PM · Sermon
Engaging The Culture, Part II
Jeffrey Rosario · 08-12-18 3:45 PM · Sermon
Understanding the Worldview Web
Jeffrey Rosario · 08-12-18 10:45 AM · Sermon
Loving God With All Your Mind
Jeffrey Rosario · 08-12-18 9:30 AM · Sermon

http://www.audioverse.org/people/138/nathan-renner.html

http://www.audioverse.org/people/236/steve-wohlberg.html

But there are little words too, a phrase here or there that catches my attention and impacts me. I was watching
some marantha stories episodes from a sample DVD I got I think at GYC in 2007. It was real neat, often I forget
that I am not on the only project in the world, there are many others sacrificing their time and effort for the forwarding of the
gosepl. There were two small testimonies, one about a 72 year old man Roger Hatch, since age 40 he's supervised countless
church people projects for Marantha. The interviewer made this statement and asked for Roger's reaction "Roger Hatch loves people."
Roger teared up, it moved him, he said it hurt him to see fellow believers worshiping under trees, when in North America
we have our stained glass and padded pews. He wanted to help others have a place of worship, a place
to bring in new members, a place to grow. The other story was Manuel (sorry forgot his last name), he is a project
coordinator for Marantha, the onsight guy who helps the incoming building teams get things done. He was asked
how one goes about finding work with Marantha, his response, "Don't ask how to work for Marantha, but how can you work
for God?" Neat-o! There was also several features on ultimate workout, a great teen mission trip every summer, to
different locations worldwide. One girl interviewed made this comment, "Out here we have to rely more on God than we would at home." Unknowingly she summed up the entire problem with the church in North America. Now I what
she meant to communicate, that there didn't have all the neccessities of life out there and that is was harder just
to get water and food, etc. True, but for many people that statment is the truth. But it doesn't have to be so,
though we may physical comforts in North America and Europe, we need God all the more, to be dependent on Him! Easy
to say, harder to do.
A last word was not from a Christian source, but was intrigueing. Whenever some hollywood star passes away, it's sure
to make some lasting news. Yes it is annoying because they are humans like everyone else, and thousands die
each day without even a blink of the eye from anybody but their surrouding people. But after logging off my yahoo mail the other
day I say a news article about Brittany Murphy, a lesser star, so to speak, aired in a few films and once on the Clueless
sitcom. She died suddenly at 32 years old. It reminds me that even those society sees as the rich, untouchable are human
like us all, and it is sad to hear of anyone dying. I certainly can't judge her, I can only hope she lived up to what she knew
was right. But what struck me was what her ex boyfriend (she married somebody else later) Ashton Kutcher said on Tweeter, "2day the world lost a little piece of sunshine. My deepest condolences go out 2 Brittany's family, her husband, & her amazing mother Sharon." and also "see you on the other side kid."
This is what our society holds as the creme of the crop, a guy who says, 2day, instead of today when someone's life has ended. Am I
old fashioned, don't really care. But also his end words, see you on the other side. Reminds me of "eternity in their hearts" from Solomon
in Ecclesiastes. Even the stars of hollywood are missing something, are hoping to go to a better place after they die (well we know
that it's not right away.)

So words, what will you say today? As we come into a new year, we will a whole new 365 days, to say and live for Jesus!

Soon it will be Christmas Day

It's always interesting for a Canadian in an African country at Christmas, dust replaces snow, and heat replaces cold, though everyonce in a while I might stick my head in the freezer to not forget my heritage! It's also a tough time for the church, we kind of walk on eggshells, some believe that celebrating Christmas at church makes us look like the Catholics, who of course take Mary and the others to a new level of worship where they shouldn't be (well that worshipped at all!) But I am excited at least because this year all the Atacora region churches are meeting in Boukoumbe, Northwest of here, to celebrate the season and the thirteenth Sabbath together. Should be fun and a blessed time. Here are some Christmas peoms I wrote for your enjoyment and blessing!

"The Christmas Spirit"

I was looking one day for the Christmas Spirit,
I wondered exactly where I’d find it,
I thought about a song to sing,
So I went to the library, looking up Crosby, Bing,
Nothing there, how about Sinatra, Frank,
But again the answer pretty blank.
So onto Google I went,
Looked through holiday videos until I was spent,
No aid from Charlie Brown to the Winnie the Pooh,
Not even Dr. Seuss could help, oh boo hoo!
So I looked at some true stories,
Looking for perhaps some hidden treasuries,
There was one about allies and axis fighting away,
Who stopped for a while on Christmas Day,
There were stories of help for the poor,
Or miracles at a local department store,
All were quite touching and nice,
It was a great holiday slice,
But nothing seemed to hold a solution,
What was it really about was the question.
So I tried one last thing,
Maybe this would with truth ring,
I reached up high on the shelf for my Bible,
I once learned that God was always able,
Could He answer this puzzling query?
Or would He shuffle away in a hurry?
The was sadly very dusty,
Of its words my knowledge quite rusty,
Yet I hoped the reason was in there,
The real answers it had to bear.
I leafed all the pages through,
Until my eyes fell on the book of Matthew,
And there I cried tears of joy,
As I rediscovered what I had learned as a boy,.
The message was so crystal clear,
I knew God’s presence had drawn near,
Oh, the Christmas spirit is wrapped up in thus,
One simple word Emmanuel, “God with us.”

"The Homeless King"

There’s no home for the baby,
Not that His parents are lazy,
Or that they are a little crazy,
There just isn’t a place for the baby.

As of yet He’s actually not born,
But soon He will be here all forlorn,
Into a life of victory and scorn,
A real rose among thorns.

Knocking on ever inn door,
“Rooms!”, is the cry “Are no more!”
Not even a closest or a store,
No where to lay the head for a snore.

How can this thing be?
Now room for the King of Eternity,
So in a stable the shepherds will Him see,
The grand Savior of you and me.

It’s a different kind of King,
One for whom the angels sing,
For whose coming all the heavens ring,
Let us to Him always cling.

Cleaning Beans

Cleaning Beans
There are many tasks that have challenged me in Benin, from Pathfinders, to bush taxi travel to spending three days sitting with an old guy I couldn’t talk to, but there is one that I am deathly afraid of, you guessed it, cleaning beans. Beans here are usually small whitish ones, that turn light burn when cooked, I don’t their official name. Before you cook them, you have to go through them and take all the bad beans. I used to let Manny do that, he didn’t seem to mind, although I helped once in a while. It’s tedious for sure. I bought some beans like two months ago, and finally decided to face my fears. I had company coming on Sabbath and set down to clean those beans. I barely got through a pile and my neck hurt and my back. I sit in one chair with the pile of beans on another, then with a bowl in between my knees I clean the beans, a bit tough labor yes (hey if you know a better way let me know). Well I have a bucket full several kilos, but only did what I needed for the next day, maybe one kilo, and it took an hour and fifteen minutes about!
I have been reading the life of James O. Fraser pioneer missionary to the Lisu people of central China called “Mountain Rain” by Eileen Crossman Fraser. He once wrote:
“The temptation I have often had to contend with is persistent under many forms; ‘If only I were in such and such a position’ for example, ‘shouldn’t I be able to do a great work! Yes, I am only studying engineering at present, but when I am in training for missionary work things will be different and more helpful.’… Or’ Well, here in the training home, all my time must be given to language study- how can I do missionary work? But when I am settled down in my station and able to speak freely, opportunities will be unlimited!’ etc.,etc.
It is all if and when. I believe the devil is fond of those conjuctions…The plain truth is that the Scriptures never teach us to wait for opportunities of service, but to serve in just things that lie next to our hands… The Lord bids us work, watch and pray…
Since the thing things that lie in our immediate path have been ordered by God, who shall say that one kind of work is more important that the other.” (pg. 28)

Very thought provoking and moving!

These past few weeks I have struggling over a decision, whether to leave a little early or not. I have been dealing with emotional and mental issues that had me questioning whether I should stay or not. In the end I decided to head home the end of January, a little earlier than the original beginning of April. It is not an easy decision, but a necessary one for my long term health. Don’t anybody worry, I am not on the verge of collapse, but see this as an opportunity for prevention of future problems as much as it for healing. I can only praise God for how He has been able to get things done here. The Pathfinder club is getting along well, they have several people who will sustain it after my departure, and the culture study research is wrapping in the next month. I will be continuing to write and compile at home for the cultural scrapbook, so I won’t be necessarily be giving up my post entirely. Though this does mean my time with AFM will come to a close officially. I am heading out on January 21 to Cotonou and flying to France for a small visit on the 24th, then home on February 8. So much is left to do in this last month, and I look forward with dread (is that possible) to see friends and family, but the dread of leaving all my wonderful new friends here! Thank you always for you prayers. It thus has helped me thinking of James words, I know that what God has put in path here in Benin, from cleaning beans to counseling and praying for a broken marriage, has been all sacred work, and I am confident He’ll be leading me on His path in the future too.

Above the Din

Here is an interesting situation I have never been in before. Uli and Toussaint moved to a new house a few months ago and now live right by an orphanage/dormitory. Some of the kids there are real orphans or their parents can’t take care of them, others can’t get schooling the remote villagers and so come and live there. Uli and Toussaint have really taken to heart the kids, especially the real orphans and help them in many ways. They’ve started a weekly chapel time on Sunday nights at the orphanage. It’s a time of prayer and worship. I wanted to go to one and this past Sunday Toussaint said I should come and share. I was real excited and nervous. I can preach before huge churches, but with a small or large group of just young people like me I get nervous! I prayed and God gave me a message, one that had really blessed me from 2 Corinthians 5:19, how God doesn’t hold our sins against us for now, so that we may come to Him. If He did impart our sins against us we’d be dead! I shared with this the parable of the workers hired at different times in the day in Matthew 20. The youth from little children to late teens, listened so quietly. What was the hard part was prayer. The group is made up of many church goers, some to the Assembly of God others to the Catholic church. Well when I prayed to open, the Catholics start praying the Rosary, I think or something like it. Well I prayed loud and go through. At the end I prayed to close and it seemed their courage had grown and mine diminished, I wondered if anyone beside the front row could hear me. After words I was confused, I didn’t know whether to be sad or mad! These people couldn’t they relax. I mean nobody I’d ever met would pray their own pray out loud while I prayed. In the end I couldn’t get mad over it, there was not point, I could only be sad. These young minds so easily swayed by such a heresy, that they had to pray that prayer whenever prayer was being held, just to get into Heaven or at least purgatory (in their minds). I pray the message planted some seed in their minds. With the story of the workers I shared how it was the hirer who went out to get the workers, that He brought them in, they did nothing but accept the call!

Don't Stare

How often as a little kid I head those words, don’t stare! Sometimes you just couldn’t help it, the guy had a monkey on his shoulder, or that woman was wearing her dress backwards! Well those would be extreme cases, but you get the idea. I remember at New Frenda Youth Camp one summer on Sabbath we played a Waldenses role play game. We had to smuggle Bible verses to a secret location (well not to us) without being caught by soldiers. I did get caught once and set to jail. Then myself and another camper were sent before the queen (Tim Putt with wig and all, quite a sight), and were ordered to at three different intervals along the big concrete staircase that lead up the side of the hill stop and shout “The Queen’s hair is so fair I can’t help but stare.” (The rhyming helps me remember it.) And then we were released to get more scripture.
I read in a funny and inspiring book my dad gave me called “Here I am Lord- Send Someone Else!” By Kurt DeWitt about the staring habits of Kenyans, apparently they like to stare at everyone. Here I think that may be the case too, but I have a feeling it is reserved for those of paler skins! Yet I too have the staring bug at times. You see here people don’t live by matching colors, well at least the villagers don’t. You may see a bright pink top with some yellow and red skirt, but it’s not so simple. The designs are crazy. You may be familiar a little bit with African prints. I have seen clothing with drawings of fingers, of an entire antique living room, of American dollar bills, of just crazy swirls and squares. It is entertaining! One guy at church has this shirt that is blue and yellow with some East Indian type design. Twice I ended up sitting behind him and trying to figure out what was on the back of his shirt. People buy the fabric and then the tailor or seamstress makes it, and sometimes it can be sideways or upside down if it is a recognizable thing. So I study this shirt, I thought maybe it was some sort of worm with wings, or a backwards fish thingy, like those weird deep see blind fish. Then the second time it clicked, it was an upside down elephant head! Oh how fast the mystery went away.
There’s another mystery I have been trying to solve here. Well it’s not completely mysteriously, I know the reasons, I just wished I had the exact answer. Like I am distracted by weird designs on clothing, people here are distracted by Satan. Yes that sounds obvious, but the one area really baffles me. I invite people to church or a evening meeting and they will say right to my face, I will be there, and they don’t show. Well that’s happens all over the world. But this last Sabbath was a real puzzler. There is a man from Ghana who repairs shoes on the market, he said to call him and we’d go to church together. I did call him and he’d said he take a moto-taxi and come. . But he did not show. I went to go get a friend to go to church, he was still sleeping, his sister said he’d be ready later and come. He didn’t come. As I walked to church from the second friend’s house, another friend say me in the street, and asked me what I was doing, I said going to church. He said I will come. I told him it is at 11 o clock church service. He said he’d go shower and come. Our church is right beside a well known private school, so many people find it easily. He didn’t come either. Two hours before church I invite someone, and they still do not come! I was just dumbfounded. How Satan can so distract that in two hours, they can forget or put it aside. It is also a matter of priorities. I can’t expect these people who have never once come to my church to put it first before making money, talking with friends, etc. They need much encouragement! And most importantly much prayer.

I'll be praying for you

Suzy, Uli, and I (FYI: from now in this entry to be known as “we”) are always on the lookout these days for contacts. Now for penpals, or outer space messages, but cultural insiders, those who can give us the scoop. We are drying up on them. All the friends we have we used quite sufficiently, and it seems it is not what you know but who you know! But good things for friends who have friends! If we have a friend who has friends, then this connection can get us some needed information. One block is that there are some things that people will not share with outsiders, meaning those who have not done the ceremonies themselves. They will tell you all about sacrifices and work rituals and seasonal changes, but not the secrets, if they did, it’s not us they’d have to kill, it is them who would pay the price. But it is not like everything one may share is useless, they can share valuable insights. And praise God he has blessed us with a church member north of here that has been doing cultural research for years, and who is more than happy to help us as he can! Today I was supposed to go to a village with a friend, it was market day, a good time to talk to lots of people. But he had an errand to run in the morning, and promised to call me on his return. No call! I was frustrated, but realized I should pray for him, something bad could have happened on his travels! It is so evident how much more I need to pray because people don’t realize what they are doing. In other words, when I have a cultural insider, he or she is helping to give us information that will help to evangelize and bring Jesus to the heart of the Otammari people, something the Devil doesn’t want, so he will do all to distract or harm our contacts. They aren’t aware of this, and sometimes I can’t make them aware, lest they get upset that this is some religious cause, so I pray for them! How much we need prayer. I know how so many of you are praying for me and the project here! The difference it makes I can’t always see, because in reality there are so many storms God never lets me see, and I am glad about that.

Battles and Wars

It’s a fact that we live in a war. A great cosmic war that is made up of many battles. Jesus battled constantly with Satan, sometimes in face-to-face combat like the temptations in the desert or at times subtle like the pull of his family to leave His crazy ministry. One of my favorite songs that I loved to sing in Juniors Sabbath school and on Pathfinder campouts is “The Battle Belongs to the Lord”. “We sing glory, honor, power, and strength to the Lord!” Also one of my favorite movies, “Radio” has this great line in it, which Coach Jones shares with his team before their first regular season game, “You win your battles, we’ll win our war.” Indeed at times it seems like I’ve lost a battle, but the war is not lost. Actually the war is already won, the end is decided. But wars still wage over each soul, and battles are constantly being fought to gain control of every destiny. On June 6, 1944 the Dooms-Day offensive was launched early in the morning. Americans, British, Canadians, Dutch, and others joined forces to land on the beaches and the forest on the French coast. Soon France was liberated, then Belgium. But the Netherlands remained under Nazi rule. Operation Market Garden was created to help liberate the country, and was a miserable failure. After such a miraculous battle on D-Day, such a crushing defeat, but as history tells us, the war was not lost, eventually the Nazi’s took the fall.
I haven’t told you much about my Fidard in a while. He is the one with I prayed often, and watched as God did some mighty victories in his life over alcohol and struggles in his marriage. I am still visiting and praying with him, but in the last few weeks haven’t seen much of him, because of an unpredictable schedule, on both our parts. Now that field work is done, he is often out doing odd jobs sometimes until late in the evening, so usually the weekend is the best time to see him. But recently someone died in his family so he had to go to Parakou then to his home village, and I hadn’t got to visit him. Well last night I did get the opportunity. I was going to work on something on the computer but decided to go visit him instead then come back and go to bed. I went over there, and found him and his wife intensely arguing, a child was crying, and I thought oops bad timing. But when he saw me things quieted down and we sat to talk. He said he just got back from the village. As we talked I smelled alcohol, I was so hoping it was just in the air, but no, it was his breath. Well it is tough, that’s what people do at funerals, dig graves and drink, many times to get their thoughts off death, it is overwhelming for someone without the hope of the resurrection (how privileged we are!). But he wasn’t overly stupefied so we could carry on a conversation, but it did mean he was very emotional. He told me the tragic story of his aunt’s death, how she was sick, and someone lit a fire in the room to keep her warm, and then he left to the river to get water. Her blanket touched the fire and caught on fire, and she was badly burned and soon after died. Another relative who is a border guard near Cotonou on the Togo border, was there helping. When Fabien came he didn’t know about the incident. The body was there, but he didn’t look under the covering over the corps. While they went to burry her, they asked him to stay and help prepare the meat, that is killing and skinning the goat. He found out later the whole story and that they hidden everything from him, and then someone told him that his grandma, when she was sick and dying was locked in her room and left to die, she cried out, but no one paid attention, and she passed away in this distress. He was obviously shaken up, his family had done this to his family, in other words it is all on his head! And his father did not say anything to him when he died. His father shared no last words, as is the custom when someone nears death. The border guard lady had asked Fabien, now what do you think? Fabien had no answer, what did he think about these terrible deeds? Then he asked me. Well I told him that when he gives his life to God, that God is much more powerful, but we live in a world of sin and bad things happen to everyone, life is not easy. I always share with the youth at church that the best way to help someone is to share what God is done in your life, not to recite what you read in this book or heard in this sermon recently. So I told him of my grandpa’s death in a car accident. I told him how I questioned; why did that dump truck come right at that moment, why did he take his seat belt off? Why? But so much on earth we can’t understand. Fabien seemed to understand, he said prayer would be our help. But he still was very distressed, and the alcohol didn’t help, as he usually gets very emotional with its help.
Then we prayed and right as we finished this white guy shows up, actually he was caucasion and dressed in a white shirt and khaki’s. I have seen him before when I was visiting another friend. And so now I would finally get to meet him. I always wondered about how influence works, Ellen White talks about it in the “Talents” chapter of Christ’s Object Lesson. That we our attitudes have an influence on others, without us even realizing it. As soon as this guy came, I could sense an indifference to me. It helped that Fabien already had talked to him about me, and that I was religious, how terrible. Of course when he pulled out a cigarette and asked me if it was okay, and then commented almost before I could answer, that well you know religious people…. Implying my stuffiness. Right from the get go I felt uncomfortable, embarrassed and frustrated at the same time. Uncomfortable and embarrassed at what my faith, how dreadful, this guy was not mean, but in his presence I felt all my confidence in what I believed sucked away. Frustrated because this guy had to come and befriend of all the people in Nati those who I had begun to pray and befriend! Well actually it makes sense, a guy who is not in God’s control is in Satan’s and so Satan would be more than happy to direct him to those whom I had contact with. I am nervous when dealing with Europeans. One is my French capabilities, with Africans I get along, their French is slower and not as developed (not that they are dumb, it’s the accent, and it is their second language as well). When Fabien commented that he missed prayer, he mumbled about how Fabien should just leave off, or forget those things of God. Well at least I know where he stands. Interestingly enough the last few days I’d been listening to Jeffery Rosario speak about reason and faith, and how we Christians are seen as dumb, because of “blind faith”, when in actuality God calls us to use our intellect for His glory. He chose the Bible to be the main revelation of Him, which is means reading and using our minds. We need to love God with everything, including all our mind! So here I was in the practical training. The man shared a funny story which the kids found hilarious. Obviously my stay was ended. Fabien asked me to come over the next day, which I will. I thought it real sad, how we’d lost this battle, he’d been drinking, fighting with his wife, and doubting his faith, but the war is not lost. I really didn’t expect to deal with secular Europeans here, sure I knew there would be supernatural struggles, fetishes, demon worship, and the lot, but the influence of atheists, agnostics and what not, that is a twist! But the good thing is that here the common belief is that to not believe in God is to be ridiculous, so I may have an easier time that this man who says religion is not worth anything. But I don’t think he is proselytizing! I am glad that I do not fight against flesh and blood, if so I’d take up boxing or something! But the fight is spiritual so I bring a mind filled with the Bible and a heart filled with Jesus!

Information Overload (in a good way, I suppose)

When Jason was here, he left us with some downloaded sermons from Audioverse, mostly from last year’s GYC. It was real nice of him to think of this, since we can’t download anything bigger than a toothpick here (if you could download one), well if the connection is bad, at times I may be able to get downloading several toothpicks! I put them on my Mp3, and while I do cooking or cleaning, I listen to the sermons. They are really awesome. Much inspiring thoughts and information. Nathan Renner shared a series on The Three Angels’ Messages, I listened to the last installment and it was very impactful, about the Trinity’s cooperation for our salvation, powerful (“Intending for the Faith: The Three Angels’ Messages”). Another one by Shawn Boonstra on reaching the postmodern mind was really thought-provoking (“Faith and Reason: Reaching the Postmodern Mind”). Oh and there was this other one by Sean Pitman (“The Emporer has no clothes: evolution vs. creation”) which was really deep. Justin Kim shared on how young people should stand up for the faith today, insightful and moving (“The Imperative of Dedication”). It is really great Audio verse makes available all this to everyone, even beyond GYC, there’s LIFE sermons, ASI, SEYC, and more (check them out at audioverse.org, and videoverse.org). But I do recommend you go to a GYC personally. You can’t replace the experience of being there. It is definitely not required, you can be a good Christian and not go, but if God makes a way, and you try, make an effort to God, even old people like it! (Hope I didn’t offend too many people). With all the sermons I can listen too, I get excited, but depressed at the same time. I hear of many calls to stand for Jesus, much new information (I have shared some already with friends around here), and reinforcement of things I already believe, all really good things, but it makes me wonder where to start. I get this idea or that objective and ready to go, then something, and oh maybe I should start studying that instead, and confusion sets in. So much and so little time! What’s the solution, well I don’t have all the answers, and never will thank goodness (something God only knows!). But I can see that I need to balance action and study, application and knowledge. Easy to say, it is easy to either work my bottom off for God, or to spend all my time digging deeper into His word (not to mention time in prayer and some down time). But what is needed is both. Like Radio says on the movie by the same name, when asked whether he wants peach or blackberry cobbler, he says “both”. “You heard the man”, says Coach Jones, “Give the man both.” Study and action are both delicious cobblers, and good thing the Master Chef makes them both, and I know that if I rely on His wisdom, He’ll show me the what and when to balance life. Praise the Lord. Boy now I am kind of hungry…

Laughing with God

The other evening, I finished with the evenings activities early, and thought maybe instead of calling tomorrow, I’d make the phone call I’d been planning today. To call overseas, I go to a nearby photocopy/phone booth place. You may seen the pictures on my Flickr page. The booths look small from the angle I took them, but they are actually pretty large, with a fan and light in each one, and a chair too. Well, if I wanted to make that phone call I’d need to find some money. I keep most of my money outside of my house, somewhere else safer. But of course I have a little at home for day to day expenses, and for the trips to the market, money just seems to come in handy of getting food! Well, I remembered that when I had left that morning, my money was lying on my desk, but I decided to conceal it. This is not the first time this has happened, but now I just could not find my money. I checked usually hiding spots, no go. Of course I prayed to start, asking God to forgive my forgetfulness and to point out where I hid the money. Apparently I hid the money so well, I couldn’t even steal it from myself, were that possible. After a good 45 minutes, I understood once again why Dr. George in developmental psychology talked about the benefits of being organized, on average people spend one and half hours looking for misplaced things, like keys and yes at times money. Well I was really praying now. I had turned the place upside down. I almost decided to give up for the evening and renew the search in the morning. When I spotted my old cell phone case on the desk. Hmmmm, I haven’t checked in there yet. No, that’s not logical (well it’s not logical to loose money either). So I looked inside and to my chagrin, what did I find, the lost money. I felt like the woman that found the lost coin in one of Jesus parables, I was so happy. But quite rapidly I turned angry. How could I be so dumb! Right there in front of me, and evidently I had to leave the phone call off to the next day. I was kicking me self in the pants, when it seemed I heard God chuckling. Now I couldn’t an audible laugh, but I sensed He was laughing. I don’t believe God laughs at us, He loves us, He sympathizes with our problems and weaknesses. But in this case He wasn’t laughing at me, because I soon joined. How funny I can be. I really got worked up over this money, and the whole time there it was in front of me. I tried to not laugh, saying, hey this isn’t funny, but I couldn’t help it. My neighbors might think I am bit strange, laughing to myself in my room. It was an unusual but a precious moment with God. To realize that yes, I may act silly sometimes, but the God understands, and we can laugh through it together!

Rights

In the toilet situation, which thank God worked out fine, I learned a lot about what the African believes about their rights. They see Africa as the suffering nation, that they have the right to be helped. I can’t blame them, they do genuinely suffer much, and we blessed with wealth should be more willing to share, but gifts are never earned and sometimes there needs to be less gifts and more work. I try to help children understand this. When they say to me, you need to give me this or that. I kindly remind them that it is not their right to receive that, that they should say, if possible could please get me this, or I’d really appreciate receiving this or that. I am glad for parents that taught the difference between “I want” and “I would like”. It seems that kids that grow up demanding, become demanders of their children too. Bring this, do that, and not a word of love.
And here it seems that riches don’t help the situation. My neighbors here are a diverse bunch. One is a painter from the Gambia who has lived in 23 different African nations, the is a man from Togo, a woman from Togo and Ghana, a student from Benin (not sure which tribe), and the main family who are Muslim Dendi from Benin and me the Swiss-Canadian! The family in the large house, is well off, okay filthy rich for Africa, the husband works with surrounding villages helping them promote their local trades. With the riches kindness is not also imparted. There are now words of love. Many people in Nati have asked me why there children are so head strong and disobedient, yet they spend no time with them, never say I love you, thank them and the TV is usually the only place they “get together”. Sounds like a global issue to me! Because they are rich they also have the right to two motorcycles, many clothes, a servant (a.k.a. slave girl), and other “necessities”. The motorcycle is a real good one, the woman of the house drives her children to school everyday. She goes out on the motorcycle. She doesn’t go to the market herself, and when at home, finds time to sit in front of the TV and sleep. I can hear here arteries clogging from here. And her husband is growing a spare tire for future use if you know what I mean. They feel if they are rich, they get the right to in reality kill themselves! How sad. And despite their faults the Bible tells me to love them. That’s the tough part. They may be messed up, but God loves them!

A time to break down, a time to build up...

This text in Ecclesiastes 3 is very meaningful to me. I have always to appreciate time. Time is money, as the saying goes. Even more than that, time is a gift from a God, a talent. Ellen White has some really great things to say on time in Christ’s Object Lessons pages 342-346. “Of no talent” she writes “He has given will He require a more strict account than of our time.” (342) and a favorite of mine; “Now is the time to labor for the salvation of our fellow men.” (343)

Ecc. 3 is meaningful because it really challenges me to remember balance. I enjoyed getting a task done, but as Sister White mentioned, time is to work with God in saving our fellow men, that means time is about people, and not tasks. It’s that balance in all aspects of life that is tough. Now time really is not even built in seconds but in moments, a moment can be a split second or a whole day, I suppose. What has really been challenging me is when to know the right time to help build people up, say nothing, or to, so to speak, tear someone down. I don’t mean tear them as in criticism or mocking, but tearing down a bad behavior, confronting someone on something that bothers me. Actually the saying is not quite right for the situation because I can never rebuild anybody, that’s God’s job. But a spiritual leader with the youth, and a friend to others, when are times when I should confront someone about a behavior that they could work on. I certainly do not want to a spiritual policeman!
And yes for strangers too. The longer I am here, the more behaviors bug me. I do have to realize that I have been around a lot of caring, godly people, and maybe that has made me take too high a standard for others around me here, who have not been raised like I have. Maybe! It certainly is true. For the white people treatment, that I left behind a while ago, although there are times when I have to really pray to keep the temper down. The other day at the market, some young guys were walking by as I was eating mashed yams for lunch at a food vendor. They were saying “Hey look the white (literally “le blanc”) is eating.” They tried to get my attention by say “The White”. I finally turned to them, and said as calmly as I could that white is a color not a person, and continued eating. The people around me chuckled, and the boys laughed embarrassingly and moved on. I felt a tinge of satisfaction. Good thing those guys are the exception to the rule, and if they weren’t I would probably have not said anything, but the fact is most people do treat me nice, as not “the white”, but a visitor or a friend.
But what really irks me is when the defenseless are preyed upon, or when a harsh word is spoken. I have learned that people here never spare the rod (Proverbs 13:24), without knowing the verse, but nonetheless they certainly don’t spoil the child, unless they are rich. So though I may not feel comfortable with their many occasions to hit a child, I know that’s not my business. But when people make fun of others, chastise them wrongly, exploit, me ‘ole blood boils. I recently read “Anne Frank Remembered” by Miep Gies, the lady who hid the Frank and Van Daan families along with Dr. Dussel (I read it twice, it was highly captivating). Miep talks about how hard it was for the Dutch to hold back when so much injustice was happening, they had boiling blood and not way to pour it out, so to speak. Now I am interesting in lashing out, but some kind correction could be useful? In Pathfinders it is certainly a rule, no mean words, and in that domain, I certainly have authority to make sure that takes place. But otherwise what can I do? The other day I was a little fed up. I went and bought some sweetbread for breakfast and then stop a vendor selling corn porridge and sat down to eat my bread and porridge. Two students where eating there (I could tell because they wore their Khaki uniforms). One left and was replaced by an older gentlemen (here that means 40’s). I was happily eating and just finishing, when the student to my right asked the young girl who was helping there, to get him some water. I have also learned to ignore manners, as I found last year that in Ditimarri there is no word for please, so I let things slide (except with Pathfinders of course, those poor children, well I do try to be nice about it). Well she headed for the fried dough cakes instead, in French water and cake are end in an “o” sound, so they could be confused, especially for girl who isn’t going to school and who should be I might add (wish the dude would have thought about that). He corrected in a harsh tone that he said water. The man beside me then felt he needed to comment, and wondered out loud about the girl mixed the order up, can she not hear properly? Good thing I am a Christian! I kindly as possible said as I stood to leave, “why did you say that? We all make mistakes. Have you never gotten something mixed up?” The timing was perfect, he answered just as I leave to get on my bicycle, “Well yes, but…” I left them in the silence of their thoughts. “Well yes, but…” That statement carried so much. The man said it a tone of deep thought, like it clicked, that is was true, he had done those things. Now I have to be careful, because though I want to stand for the right, I don’t to be disrespectful of those more elderly than I, especially in the African culture. But like in this case I had the opportunity to help someone think about their actions. I also have to cautios to walk the talk! How often do I have major faults and yet seek to point out others weaknesses! Sounds familiar, the greatest teacher ever, Jesus, said it this way…
“So why do you see the piece of sawdust in another believer's eye and not notice the wooden beam in your own eye?” (Matthew 7:3 GW)
And that’s all I have to say about that.


3:1 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
Ecc 3:2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
Ecc 3:3 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
Ecc 3:4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
Ecc 3:5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
Ecc 3:6 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
Ecc 3:7 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
Ecc 3:8 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
Ecc 3:9 What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth?
Ecc 3:10 I have seen the travail, which God hath given to the sons of men to be exercised in it.
Ecc 3:11 He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.
Ecc 3:12 I know that there is no good in them, but for a man to rejoice, and to do good in his life.
Ecc 3:13 And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all his labour, it is the gift of God.
Ecc 3:14 I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that men should fear before him.

Using "Talents"

This little lesson helped me learn lots. In June I gave each member of our Sabbath School, which were five at the time, 300 francs, or about 75 cents Canadian. When you consider that the average pay for a full eight hours of work for a mason’s assistant is 1000 francs, it is a nice little sum having 300. I told them to do something with the money to help someone else. Of course the idea came from Jesus’ parable of the talents, and also from an Adventures in Odyssey adaptation of the parable called “The Buck Starts Here”.
I kept forgetting to ask them about their assignment, and with preparations to visit home, I completely forget, until last Sabbath. I had some varied responses, quite similar to the original story! Two boys had collaborated and given 100 francs to three different people to help them out with daily food. One boy still had his money as he really didn’t think of what he could do with only 300 francs. I encouraged him to not think too big, but simple, and we’ll see what he does in the future. Another of them gave the money also to some different friends to help them. Then the fifth was a little embarrassed. He had the money a long time, and after a while went to buy pants at the market, he only had two hundred francs and the pants cost five, so he used the 300 to complete the deal. I was disappointed, everyone snickered at his mess-up. I chided him and told him I was disappointed in what he did, but told everyone that it was a good lesson to use money we put aside for God or to help others quickly or we will be tempted to quickly spend it! I am still not sure if there is a punishment for the one delinquent.
The illustration was great and rewarding, maybe I’ll have opportunity to do a repeat in the future with new class members.

The End of the World

There is a Christian Rock band,called “Hawk Nelson”; a few years ago they came out who a CD called, “Smile, It’s the End of the World” Not many people smile when thinking of the end of the world. It’s a paradox, the end of the world means the coming of Jesus, the end of suffering and sin! All this great controversy a matter for the history books, so to speak. But it also means a time of trouble beyond imagination, the loss of many souls to Satan’s lies, the destruction of people who’ve rejected their only hope in Jesus.
Here in Natitingou, a lot of people don’t think about the end of the world. It is a sobering thought whenever I remember that most of the people around me are lost people. I can’t judge people and I do not their heart, but I can know that many people do not Jesus as their personal Savior, and that means lost. This has been in my mind lately because a sure-fire sign of His coming is upon us, rain. Rain is not in the Bible as a sign, but nasty and weird weather is. The sky is still raining down buckets on regularly occasions here. People in their 50’s and 60’s around here cannot remember any time when rains went passed the month of October. It seems it has forever been rain until the middle of October, no rain for about two weeks, then a final downpour, and then the Heavens are closed until late March. But now it is middle November and still the rains are not letting go. Already crops of sorghum, millet, and beans, are gone, molded and water-soaked. Not a good sign for the coming year, these are staples in our area. People are bewildered, rain go away, come again in March, like you’re supposed to. With my perspective I can be confident because God’s in control, but many others don’t see it so. How does a Muslim see the disasters, what does an animist have to look forward too, how does a Catholic picture Heaven? Questions that make me want more time before the end of the world, to help these people figure it out (and me too at times, for that matter).

P.S. The day after writing this, the winds started, so that means rains are stopped. So the weather still messed us up, but at least this year it may not be too bad.
And about the toilet, it all worked out, the money is enought to cover the cost of a larger choice. I started digging the pit, and low and behold the kids continued to one meter! Great news.

Going Forth: Perspectives

Went to a village on November 10. A friend of mine took me, I was grateful for his help. The particular
village is his mother's home village, and he has an old great-uncle there. I went to do some research.
It is really amazing the timing of our culture study. We have noticed that if we did this even a few years
later we would miss the last generation it seems that really knows the culture in its entirity. With
modernization, urbanization, and the advancement of travel, no one is staying put, families are
no longer together as they used to be, the old traditions are fading away. If the old ways of life
were being replaced by good solid Biblical living, that'd be great, but that is why we are doing
the culture study. The old ways of Satan are just being replaced by new tricks from the same
evil power, but now it is masked in media, shallow love, money, material goods, the disintegration
of every society it seems. Well back to the village, the old man agreed to show all we wanted
but at a price, so I had to pay for it, but I really want the information. Unfortunately other foreign
folk have used photos to sell, and such, so now my reputation also is that I am an exploiter, if
only the people new what the result of their sharing would be. But my friend told me that his uncle
shared much top secret info, so that was good, despite the price tag.
All this study really makes think of people's perspective, to this man, the old secrets are not to
be shared, but if he only knew of He who is more powerful and keeps no spiritual secrets to happiness.
I just finished a meaningful book called "When I Relax I Feel Guilty" The title makes its content
pretty clear. It is from a Christian perspective, there are some good quotes I thought I'd share.
"A real Christian is an odd number, anyway. He feels supreme love for One whom he has never seen; talks familiarly
every day to Someone he cannot see; expects to go to heaven on the virtue of Another; empties
himselof in order to be full; admits he is wrong so he can be declared right; goes down in order to get up;
is strongest when he is weakes; riches when he is poorest and happiest when he feels the worst. He dies so he can live;
forsakes in order to have; gives away so hea can keep; sees the invisible; hears the inaudible; and knows that
which passeth knowledge." A.W. Tozer (pg 47)

"I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please, not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep, but just
enough to equal a cup of warm milk or a snooze in the sunshine. I don't want enough of Him to make love
a black man or pick beets with a migrant. I want ecstasy, not transformation; I want the warmth of the womb,
not a new birth. I want a pound of the Eternal in a paper sack. I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please."
Wiblur Rees "$3.00 Worth of God" (pg 49)

Natitingou X-Games

The X-games are the Olympics of man-powered extreme
sports, so to speak. Skateboarding, bmx biking, rollerblading, and the lot, all things that I have
tried once or twice and decided to do cross-country skiing instead, which
can be extreme when going doing a hill! Here in Natitingou, I have been working
on some new extreme sports to add to the list, some African specialities. Enjoy!

Storm Racing
Usually people talk of Storm Chasing, which was made really popular after the
release of the movie "Twister". But here in Nati I have developed storm racing,
that is trying to get away from story. Given the location of Nati in a valley,
any storm rolls over the hills from any direction and gives me the cyclist enough time
to race home or to the nearest friends house. The bigger the storm,
the bigger the challenge. Only once has rain started as I went home, but I was just coming
up the gate, so escaped in time. And yes all traffic codes are followed, as much as
possible, that is when others don't you have to bend the rules to avoid, well, collisions.
But breakneck speed on a bicycle is not too hazardous, especially when its a blue
city bike.

Mouse Trap
Yes this game, though it may not appear extreme, is a push to the limits of mind
especially. How do catch the confounded mice that live inbetween the beams and
roof of my house. At night I wake up to their gnawing on my exposed potatoes, and
I find their droppings in the most unconvienent places. So there was the small
North American mousetrap, no good. So I upgraded to the African Mouse Catcher
2000, more power, ugh, ugh. But even this smaller version of a bear trap, with teeth
and all is not match for the light mice, who eat off it and leave it unsprung. Next I tried a truce,
loosing points in the game for sure. If you eat only what I put out on a plate for you
and do not climb on my table, you'll be safe, but no go there either. So
unfortunately poison is the next bet, for the mice of course. It is sold on the market,
and is tasteless, and deadly for mice populations, so be it.

Not Mountain Biking
Here is latest in extreme biking, avoiding potholes and large bumps and rivets. While
the traditional mountain biker will try to go into holes, and fly through the air off
of large bumps, with my three speed British Bluester, that can handle holes the size
of a bottlecap (okay I exagerrate), all bumps are avoiding at great cost. It beats
many a video game, navigating the boulder and pothole ridden roads of Nati.

Growing
Recently somone asked me if this experience was a growing one. I replied with a strong yes and the
added comment that sometimes too much growing seems to be happening in my life! My spiritual
skin is being stretched and old stuff is constantly being shedded. And it is extreme, sometimes
hurts like a falling from a bmx at ten feet!

God Trusting
Unfortunately it is more popular today to think that Christianity is a boring experience, but the adventure
is always just beginning. Any normal day never remains that way. The hard part, is putting the package
of each day all in God's hands. My aunt sent me a poignant quote on this recently.
"If you have given yourself to God, to do his work, you have no need to be anxious for tomorrow. He whose
servant you are, knows the end from the beginning." Thoughts from the Mount of Blessing pg 100
That's extreme, giving your life into the hands of someone you've never seen, a leap worth taking.

He Wants Me

Okay my bad, the poem for this entry is on the other computer, so I will add it later. But Praise the Lord our office computer is now working. Here Suzy and I are trying to work step by step blind on our computer because of the screen using her computer as a template, tab then down nine times, then etc, etc. She prayed and somehow we were able to extend the computer screen onto the old monitor!

This first month here, has gone by quickly, full of finding a new house, moving, getting settled in, starting a routine, changing the routine, researching for the project, learning as always, starting pathfinders again! Much excitement. But it has been one of the hardest month since I have been here in Africa. I just felt very discouraged, stressers that had been in place last year, just seem worse, and I just thought I couldn’t handle it all. It has been a struggle to transition to living on my own without my comrade Manny. Though I am very grateful for my church family here and the support of the two missionaries, Uli and Suzy, I am certainly not alone! So I was really questioning, as we all do sometimes, about the decision I made to come back another term and miss another year of college study (who would have thought I could miss study!). Last week on Friday, I found time in the evening to just fall before God. Really pour out, I am learning this all. For most of my life, I have been an intellectual pray-er. Thinking to God, but not talking to Him. And at that moment, I almost didn’t have the words, but I felt the strong desire just to pray. As I knelt for a few minutes, I really felt God speak to my heart. He told me that He really just wanted me. It was simple but what I needed. I have been wanting to give all my work, my activities, offer so much to Him. But what He wants first is me, my life, my heart, all those other things He’ll put into place. It’s not easy to overcome my selfish tendencies, and discouraged attitude, but I can always know the victory was won on Calvary, and He’ll me take part in that victory today! After this praying I wrote this poem. I think it describes best what I have been trying to get across. I hope it blesses you.

"God Wants"

He wants me,
Not my time,
Not my money,
Nor my good deeds,
He wants me.

He doesn't need a missionary,
He doesn't need a pastor,
He doesn't need a one man show,
All He's ever dreamed of having,
Is me, my life, my all.

When in His loving arms I fall,
He's happy to let me know the rest,
What I can give of my time,
What I can sacrifices of my money,
What I do in His loving service.

Once my heart is to Him given,
He's ready to use me fully,
On the high seas of missions,
Into the adventures of pastoring,
Becoming a man reflecting God's glory.

It's so much clearer,
Life and all its challenges,
When I understand how it's me He wants,
Then so much more easily I can see,
That God wants me and you and everyone!

Affluence and the missionary

Affluence and Mission
Recently read an article in a mission’s journal Suzy gets once in a while, about the affluence ethic among missionaries, the article actually wasn’t very useful, but it did help me to know that others were dealing with the same issues I am regarding funds. The author mentioned that it was a struggle for him to go to a foreign country expecting to bring spiritual food, and he found himself half the time dealing with physical problems and issues of others. While helping others is something I like to do, I did not really anticipate the amount of stress and time I would be piling into wondering whether to help people out or not.
I had nice lesson in giving at church this past Sabbath. I recently asked a church member who is a single mom with two children to help me on Monday mornings by coming and doing laundry and some cleaning for me. She is out of work and agreed to do so. I pay a little more than the going rate because I know of her need. At church I happening to sit in the same row as her, but across the aisle. I had my tithe for three months stipend in an evenlope to put in the offering plate. I glanced across the aisle and saw the lady wrapping up some coins in paper for tithe too. I didn’t see how much but I was sure it was tithe for what I had given her that week. That small sum was all she received yet she faithfully tithed it. It was a widow with two mites experiences, and although I am glad that I did feel bad because I was showing off my wealth, it did humble me to understand and realize her sacrifice, and how blessed I am to bless others with what I have.
It was good to have that experience because what awaited me would challenge my giving compassion! In the afternoon, I stopped by the house of some friends. They had asked before I left on “furlough” to see if I could find them some money for a building project they wanted to do, a toilet to be exact. I said I would try, and in the end, my grandma gave me some money and I offered them a portion of that upon my return. Well unfortunately, I did communicate properly the exact amount, and they expected more than I had said. Well that misunderstanding aside they still had some a problem with the dimensions of the outhouse I and a friend had proposed. Since I know nothing about toilets I asked a friend to help me with the details, apparently the friends for whom the project was destined did not appreciate this leak of information, they wanted it to be between us, well a lesson learned for the future. In any case, they thought the toilet proposed was too small, they wanted a larger hole, and deeper one too. Now I and my friend had planned a toilet that would use up the money I had to give, and thus be usable, but my friends wanted a bigger toilet, which the money would not be nearly enough to finish the job. I tried to persuade them that it would be better to just build a small one (big enough already for them all), and have it done. No they wanted the big one and even if the money ran out, they’d find a way to get it done. Well it was there toilet, but it was frustrating. It’s hard when beggars become choosers. Surely these friends are not beggars, but still they asked for this, I gave them a gift and they are telling me how I should give it. Some other friends advised that I should be a bit more firm and I went back to tell them, that this was not acceptable to dictate how a gift is given. Then felt that everyone was being unfair, and was against them. They lost their mother a few years ago and thus have had a rough time added with their father who is not very healthy. But now this is growing into a martyr’s complex, they are being persecuted they believe, when I am saying that no one is perfect we all have faults and this is one for them. No one is saying they are bad people.
But the whole situation has definitely brought to me some great lessons. Mainly that it is good to have people participate, my friends have gotten used to getting and not working for what they get. Many foreigners come and feel bad and give handouts, and thus locals think that all white people will do the same. So I am learning to not allow my affluence to get in the way of God’s ministry. I am blessed with much, where I can I help, but I also want to help people be responsible and participate with what they ask for. Harmless as doves and wise as serpents, that’s the theme!

Photos on Flickr

I had some nice entries for this week but the laptop has malfunctioned (pray for it, it is a vital part of the culture study!) and thus did not get the posts off of it. But I was able to put a few more photos on Flickr, here is the link http://www.flickr.com/photos/31454511@N08/

God bless.

A Fast Two Weeks

Speaking of friends, I was very glad to have the opportunity to become friends with Jason Harral. He is hoping to come to Benin with his wife Maggi and son
Rueben in the near future. He was able to come and visit the project for two weeks, and see how we live. He went to visit two villages, and all around Natitingou.
Unfortunately he did catch malaria after only one week of being here, but in two days was over it, so that wasn't too bad. It was real nice
to have a fresh face to talk to (well not just face, mind too, hehehe). He worked in Tanzania for three years before marrying his wife who is Norwegian, so now
he resides there in Norway. I ask you to keep this family in your prayers as they are very key part in our future work to reach the Otammari.

Friends?

A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother. Proverbs 18:24 (ESV)

It just goes to show how the Bible is the living word. The KJV translates this verse as "must show himself friendly", but
it is more like show himself self friendly, or destructive. Pretty interesting. I do want to talk about friends. They
are really the heart beat of life. We have acquaintances, friends, good friends, best friends, chums, buddies, wives
and husbands, brothers and sisters, all sorts of friends. Some couple are in denial, "we're just friends", others
deny their feelings, "no we don't know each other that well." Everywhere in the world friends are how people live.
Jesus had friends many, he had twelve that were very close, three that were even closer, and one that was especially close.
He said to them at the end of his earthly ministry: "The greatest love you can show is to give your life for your friends.
You are my friends if you obey my commandments. I don't call you servants anymore, because a servant doesn't know what his master is doing.
But I've called you friends because I've made known to you everything that I've heard from my Father." (John 15:13-15 God's Word)

Here in Africa, I praise God I have been able to make very good friends inside and outside the church. I really appreciate
my Adventist friends, there is an immediate bond with someone who is striving and struggling on the same path you are,
and with the same belief system. But I am glad to have friends outside the church, especially by friendship, I hope
they will someday join the church and become faithful Christians. The hard part is being everyone's friend. I am not sure if it is simply that
friendship is not a big deal here, but I can have people saying I am their friend in a heartbeat. Yes unfortunately I have to realize
that many call me friend to dig into my pockets. But some whom I know are not looking for money, still call me friend without
much of a relationship. Is friendship easier here in Africa, than the complexity of western friendship, or is it not as sacred or treasured?
Well I do not know if there is an answer to that, but it's worth a thought or two. I just read this morning for my devotional Matthew 6:43-48.
Praying for our enemies, blessing those who curse us, etc. As a Christian in theory I love everybody, in practice I love everyone with God's
grace keeping me level headed. Actually it's not hating people that's hard for me, it's being friends. (The big questions, can I love people but not like them,
sometimes I don't know if that's worth asking?) There are people we get along easily with, and that's okay, we should really
treasure those friends, Jesus had that in Lazurus, a great friend, as well as Mary and Martha. Enoch was such a close friend that God
took him to be with Him permanently. But that doesn't mean I can't be friends with those who are bit tougher to get along with. Usually
it is my problem and not theirs. In our AFM training I learned that usually the things that bug us in others are our own weaknesses exagerrated.
Ouch! I do try to be wise, there are friends, as you know, that want just money, and while I am courteous to them, and do consider
them a soul worthy of my time, I cannot spend too much time building that friendship, because well they don't want a real one to begin with.
But that is easier said than done. Even good friends whom I thought were just friends, ask for things, because they think I have the dough, and
sometimes I am glad to help since we are good friends. When I was looking for my new apartment, I met Hyppolite, when I asked him
whether there was a house in the area. He knew maybe, so we walked around, we met up with two other young guys, Fatou (now a neighbor) and Manesou
(almost a neighbor, not too far away), they showed me my current location with Hyppolite tagging along. Well Hyppolite stopped by few more, times
I had given him money for his help with house hunting, and he presented me another problem about a girl he got pregnant in the south of the country
and he needed the money to go there. Well I have found it is better to say nothing, so I did, but gave him some tea for his running nose, and some extra curtains
I had. He was glad. I stopped by his house a few times but he was never there. A few days ago he called me to say he found a job in Djougou, an hour south of here,
as a chaffeur, which is the work he was trained in. I wondered what happened to the pregnant girl, but didn't question him on that. He said I should call him to see
how he is doing every once in a while. Well why should I be the one to call, he could too. But I consented, and figured I call him once a week. On Saturday night
he calls back, and says he is out of credit and I should call him. I relent, and he asks why I hadn't called, it had been three or four days since we last
talked. I said I was planning on calling him weekly. He responded that we were sincere (that's the exact word in French he used) friends and that
it was not like that for sincere friends. I have known him for a total of maybe two or three weeks, he has been to my house once, and I have been to his
once maybe three times when he was there. I didn't whether to get mad or laugh. Well I just said nothing, and moved the conversation on. I thought it better
not to offend him, but really I don't even call my own parents more than once a week, and this dude whom I barely know and has already asked me
for funds, though indirectly, wants me call him what daily? But then my conscience pricks a little, he is a soul who needs Jesus, and I have already forgotten
that in the same funds conversation we talked about church and the Bible and I could see he is really searching for the right religion and a friendship
with Jesus.
Through it all God's wisdom is the only way to go! He knows it all, and is humble at the same time! There is a balance, many of my friends, or those who
are starting friendship with me, have much more time than I do, to sit around and talk. I do try to be more people focused, but there are responsibilities
too, as I trust God's leading, I am sure to navigate the two together!

Dead Party

Okay the title may sound pretty creepy, but in essence that's what has been happening next my house. An older person
passed away who lived in the compound next to the one I live in. When someone is nice and old (65 plus here in Benin) and they
pass away there is a huge party, bigger depending on the family's wealth. They play loud music for much of the night (thank goodness
for earplugs!) and eat lots. There's even a huge tent that goes all the way across the street for cars and motorcycles to park under.
It is quite the celebration. While I'd like to be able to say that it is because the deceased family member was a real awesome person
or because they helped many people, it is more because the people still alive don't mind having an excuse to party. It is usually
the case that while the person is alive and old, they are neglected maybe not for their physical needs, but certainly for their social
and personal needs. But man when they die, they become a person worthy of a party! I find this so sad. But it is a dilemma
over the whole world. Although in the west we might have a solemn service full of good memories and cherished character traits,
a celebration of a life as we call it, what did we do for that person while they were alive. For some it is already too late, and we simply
need to ask God's forgiveness and learn our lesson. The lesson would be to remember people while they are still alive. There is no
condition in the commandment on parents that there is an age of release!

The Open Road

Had the chance to go out to the village of Koutie-Tchatidoh (pronounced Koo-Chey Cha-tea-doe) this week for a day.
This is my fourth trip out to this village, and it never ceases to surprise me. This time we had Jason Harral with us,
He and his family are planning to come Benin sometime in the next year or so. He got some funds to come visit
us, so he is here for a couple weeks. He took the challenge to drive the truck out on the little road to the village.
The rains are just finishing, and so the path was rough in spots, but actually the usually steep river was nice and smooth
because of the rains, so that was easier than usual. Everyother time I've come here, I have walked out. It certainly
was a little less dramatic arriving by truck, the usual two hour walk is cut to twenty or thirty minutes on the truck
so the triumph of entering the village is less, it does seem less remote too. But I was just glad to be back. We had
a nice time. Jason got sick so we came back a little early, but I had gotten the culture study information I wanted to
so that was a blessing.
On Wednesday morning Jason and I took the "Short" hike out to the fields to watch the men of the village making big
dirt mounds for planting yams. The yams here are long, white, and tubular. When cooked they become sticky, but
are delicious. The day was grey and the men were all just in their pants (except one) they muscles straining
with the work. They nearly doubled the amount of mounds in the hour and a half we were there. It was a stirring
sight, all these men working in harmony together, preparing the field for a fine crop to feed hungry families.
We were told that this field belonged to one of the men, and the next day they would got to the field of one of the other
men, thus they help each other get a lot more done than if they worked on their own. It reminded me of how
all our Adventist institutions used to be. Ellen White constantly promoted the use of hard labour as a part of the students
daily life. I can see why, physical exercise and contact with nature are unparalled in their abilitiy to grow mind and body,
well the only better thing is prayer and the Bible!
I have already been here a month in Benin, time is flying too fast. Sometimes when times are rough I think
I'd rather just go home, but as I see all God has already led through, I know the time will pass too quickly and that
I will be wishing I could stay instead of leave!
As we drove back to Natitingou, we bumped along the rough path, and then the road from the bigger village
of Takonta to Perma. At Perma we hit the open road, the smooth, new asphalt road. I guess I am kind of spoiled,
I am too used to those nice mostly smooth roads of Canada, (well except Saskatchewan, no offense, but they are pretty bad).
I've gotten used to seeing for kilometers on the straight stretches from Lacombe to Edmonton. The open road
where I can stretch my mind and eyes. Just really relaxes me. That's really how I should trust God, I can just let Him
take over. Though I may be able to see ahead, I know that the road is open, that God is going to help me get through
it all!

God's Timing

Here’s a little incident that made a big impression on me. I had planned on going to the internet café Tuesday night. But by the time I got around to some errands then went to the office to work on a few items before then, it was already late and I was not sure if I wanted to go all the way there. Also all I read was a 10,000 bill no change and that would be hard to come by at the time of evening. Then when I went to the other side of the compound, the kids told me Nestor was looking for me, well that was the nail in the coffin, I decided to go to Nestor’s instead and go the internet later in the week. I got to Nestor’s and he was there, and we sat down to talk. Turns out he had an urgent letter that needed to get out by email as in a few days he is going to the bush to start a teaching practicum. If I had gone to the internet earlier this would have implied a second trip! Amazing, I rather think so. God is still in control, amen!

Moving in

This past week has been an eventful one in terms of moving and getting!
Praise the Lord, my house situation has been all regulated. The other place
would not unload the baggage that is in there, so more unfortunately for them since
they will miss on me paying rent, I went to the other place I mentioned. It is a nice
place same bedroom and living room combo, but very quiet. Maybe in the evening when the people
that live in the main house have guests there might be a little noise, but other
than that zilch, nothing, nada! Well except for the mouse that lives in my room,
I hear his scratching and it drives me much, but can't complain. I have in my bedroom
office (desk and bookshelf), kitchen (table, shelf, and soon coming refridgerator), and bedroom
(bed, hanging clothes, and dirty laundry bin), they fit in all very nicely, so it is a
sizeable room. The living is a lot smaller, and just has the chairs and coffee table in there, well
maybe I'll call it the tea table since I only really drink my good 'ole herbal tea.
Any it is a nice place and to my surprise one of our church members lives in the
same compound, thought there is a front kind of gate, I can't quite sing the gated community
song here, just wouldn't cut it (that you will only get if you've been at Camp Whitesand and you
went with me on a trip to Saskatoon in June 2007, so you may not find it funny in other words.)
The neighbors are nice, the main house contains a family of two children and a younger sister
of either the mom or the dad. The little kids are getting used to a white guy being around.
The other day I had to clean out my healing wisdom teeth wounds with a syringe and salt
water, as I do everyday, but this day the kids were out watching. The tried to half hide
behind the hanging laundry and watching perform my intrigueing ritual, it was quite
entertaining for me too. It has been a shock though to find out that this family has a little
girl for a servant, slave basically. I ask Suzy about it and she told me that it is typical
for upperclass women to hire a girl to help them do household duties. But that means
the child does not go to school and is in someone else's house all the time. I was a bit naive
before, thinking that this really doesn't happen anymore. The sad part is that the mother
is at home all day watching TV, I think she only does some of the cooking. It just irks me,
makes me all feel all jumbled up inside!

On a brighter note, I suppose,
I purchused a new second hand bike. It is a blue city kind of bike made in Belgium for a
British company. It has three speed, and I have found that is all you really need. And
all my life I thought it was suffering having less than 21. Well 21 is nice, but three works
too. The roads here are rough, so I try not to let my mountain biking instincts take
over. Oh and the weather is rainy here. It is October and it all should be done by now, but the world
is falling apart my friends, and well Benin is a part of the mess! The rains came all
September this year, as I mentioned before, when they should have come in August, so
this is the remnant I believe. But I am a little glad, but it sure does get hot when it
doesn't rain! But when the rains cease, then by November the weather will cool down
a little especially at night, that'll be nice. I am thinking of naming it "The Blue Nose" or "The
Blue Macaroon" or "The Blizzard" or "The Belgium Bullet" or "The English Bluester" or "Blues' Clues"
or "The Big Comfy Bike" or
well the list could go on!

Have a laugh, it's free!

Being in a new culture there are moments when I just have to laugh; sometimes to myself as not to embarrass others. Life can get real stressful wherever we are, I have to sometimes take a moment to thank God and remember that joy is a gift that can experienced on earth.
I mentioned my friend was sick in the hospital from unwashed beans, today (Oct. 5) he went to get the prescription at the hospital to finish up his recovery, praise the Lord. When I visited him on Sabbath afternoon, I brought him a copy of the Gospel of John that has lots of nature scenes in it, for him to read. We had a prayer together. As I exited the hospital just a door or two down from his room, a young man greeted me by saying “Bonsoir, Mon Père.”, translation “Good afternoon, my father.” This guy was black so obviously he didn’t mistake for his biological dad, but was referring to me as a Catholic father. I didn’t know what to think at first, and then decided just to laugh.

I have been looking for rooms (moving into one finally today) and found a couple young men who agreed to show me some rooms near their house, one of which I have chosen to rent. The other house was up the side of the valley, so we had to do a bit of a hike to get there. As we walked one of the guys asked “Do they inclines like these in Canada?” I said a quiet yes trying to hold back laughter.

Yesterday when I finally went to settle the rental situation, I talked with a renter who explained to me the details of the place I was looking into. I asked about the advance, he asked me “Can you pay for two years?” My shocked face must have been evident, he laughed and said, “No just three months?” I was relieved and chuckled, I mean I have heard of white people getting ripped off but that would have been unreal and it was, thank goodness!

I was walking down a street, why? I can’t remember, but I was headed to the major road in town and a young man came out of house. He had big buck teeth and his top teeth had much space between them, reminded me of that Big Foot guy from a Goofy Movie that dances. But certainly his kind demeanor was not barbaric, and I certainly did not mention his looks. He knew my name, as I stay longer people I don’t even know, know my name, good or bad? I don’t know. He said we had taken some pictures together. Possibly. Well on Sabbath walking back from the hospital visit I saw him and a friend walking, and passed them and kept on my way, but couldn’t help overhearing their discussions on who I was. Finally the new guy said my name and I stopped. He said we had taken pictures with me and my little sister at the Hotel Tata Somba while I was at the pool. I have swam at the pool, but certainly my little sister has never been with me. It kinda tripped me out, like maybe I had lost the memory of this even they were explaining to me. But no after some mind searching it was impossible, and very possible that some other white guy name Eric was swimming at the hotel with his little sister, weird but possible. I had to laugh inside, even Uli and Suzy have gotten mixed up before! If you see them you’d laugh too, they are so unalike in appearance, that it seems very impossible!

Third World for sure

Benin a few years ago was among the eleven poorest countries in the world, and still is, I am sure, in the gutter financially, so to speak. But it is not a crisis country for the moment (for the moment because the freak whether this year brought rain all September instead of August and rotted out a huge percentage of the corn crops, a staple in the country, I am praying that it is not too bad). There is no way, or famine, or pestilence. I do see the signs of poverty, the dirty clothed children, the mud houses caved in after a long rainy season. But honestly after watching World Vision and looking through ADRA calendars I expected this of Africa. But recently what has really opened my eyes to the meaning of third world is the hospital. I did visit the Chinese sponsored hostipal in Nati last year, but not long. Just before Manny and I left in August, Simel one of the church youth got malaria bad enough to go the hospital (a minute from his house, very convenient). I went to visit him. This hospital is the government run one and is quite bare. There are some smashed windows, all the beds are bare, patients bring their own blankets, no food is provided, the families have to bring food every day. IV are hung on paint-chipped stands or the wooden mosquito net supports (they don’t provide the nets either), it was a real shock. Then upon arriving in Cotonou just a couple weeks ago, I went with the mission president to visit the sick son of one a church member. This was the university hospital, one of the best in the country, and I saw the same bareness and all. It is bigger than in Nati, but not much better. It is sad to see. The health care I experienced just getting my wisdom teeth pulled was so high above here. Just for the teeth surgery they put on a heart rate monitor, and sat me down in a nice comfy chair. I was even nicely put to sleep so the whole dramatic episode I cannot recall. Seeing the hospitals here all may seem hopeless, but they are able to save many lives, the sadder part is that many people do not have the money to save themselves. A friend of mine just recently got a lung infection from eating some unwashed beans. I visited him twice, he was in a room with a lady that was skin and bones. Some relatives were there with her. When I came back to visit my friend, they were gone. He said she’d been there for a month and saw no improvement, they couldn’t keep paying, so they went back to the village to hope and pray.

House Hunting

For the last week my one goal has been very focused, my week has been full of house hunting. Well more like room hunting, I am only planning on renting a couple rooms, a living and bedroom as it is more commonly called here. I had a place all worked out, but as sometimes happens in life, it didn’t work out, and all this about a few days before I arrived in Benin. So as in the past I set out on rental search. This proved to be an exceptionally difficult one, it seems between June and now the housing market has skyrocketed, everyone is gobbling up housing, and not students returning to school, apparently Natitingou is the new Durham region (just visit Brooklyn, Ontario and you’ll know what I mean), people from the south are coming here by the… uh well I don’t by the what but lots anyway. So I actually had a placed lined up at the same compound where Manny and I lasted stayed just a different room, but that place is full of the old renters stuff. Well I told the landlord I’d like to move in at the beginning of this week, and seven days later the luggage is still holding the place hostage. It is a sticky situation, I tend to think that this is cut and dry, just throw the stuff on the street or in the small kitchen which I won’t be using. The people aren’t even paying rent, but the old renters are of the same race as the landlord and he can’t just to that to a brother. It is a real challenge this racial loyalty thing. Even in our church we deal with it. People will favor a carpenter of their race over someone else even if the someone else is way better than the dude of their own race. Are you confused? I feel the same way sometimes. Well I try to be sensitive and did give them time. The landlord’s brother who takes care of the compound said he’d have the place vacated by Saturday, fine I can move in on Sunday. Well today is Sunday and no go. It’s actually me that’s desperate they want the rent, but I really want to live there. Well I did find another place, good location, water, electricity, the works, and seems very quiet. If you recall the last Manny and I stayed at had some pretty lively neighbors, even within the compound music is pretty loud, so that might be a bonus. I read a saying once, I think on one of those catchy saying t-shirts (which are getting old news) that said, “In the end everything will be okay, if it’s not okay it’s not the end. It is very true God will work out all when we follow and trust Him. The challenge for me is getting to the end, I want to be there now or I worry all the way. Well I am glad for this housing situation it has really been a great help to me. I am starting to worry less. When the landlord’s bro told me on Thursday that the room would be ready on Saturday, I said okay and didn’t even bother going back to check until today, Sunday, can’t say I didn’t wonder about whether it would be actually ready or not, but not as much as usual, hurray! So now the situation is what? Well the place is still not ready so pretty much tonight I go to the other place sign the papers and move in tomorrow. Hey that was easy, hahaha.

Cloud Shadows

Doing a little catch up blogging here (you know as a child I never thought I’d use a word like blogging, how technology advances!). This is a conglomerate of trips, my second flight from Paris to Cotonou and my visit to Quebec.
I did get to go to Quebec on Sept 18-20. It was just before the fall colours come out, so that was too bad, but it was still a really neat time. My great Aunt and Uncle came from France. My uncle is a retired Pastor of 35 years and shared 2 messages at a rally for greater Quebec on Sabbath in Drummondville. This was my first time in Quebec (I know shame upon me, thirteen years living in Ontario and never gone farther east than Kingston!). Later in November he is going to do a Revelation seminar at the Sherbrooke SDA church for a couple weeks. I stayed at my good friend Roland Scalliet’s house, his dad invited my uncle to come, so it was a two for one deal, well three for one deal. Visiting Quebec, seeing my college roommate, and my aunt and uncle, oh and don’t forget the ride in the new Impala rental car, okay maybe that wasn’t so exciting, but it was nice and spacious. It was a bit of culture shock, pleasant culture shock though, to be in a place that looked like Canada yet everyone, even little kids spoke French. I do speak French with my mom and grandma in Ontario, but up to that point for Canada was to English as French was to Africa (take that SAT). It was pretty stellar being in a familiar country and getting to speak French, I have to admit I’m getting partial to French it flows nicer, so my Anglophone brethren. My eyes were opened more to the mission field that is Canada. I was amazed to hear that in Quebec 5000 Adventists, but only 500 are native Quebecers, the rest are either out of province or country. Excluding Montreal (where the large percentage of immigrant Adventist live) Quebec has about 6 million people. That means the ratio is 1 in 12,000 people are Adventist. That’s the kind of statistic you’d expect of an unreached place! The conference has started a project called Project Maple to reach Quebec. The Maple is a slow growing tree, but a very excellent wood for its strength and syrup of course. The conference realizes that reaching Quebec will be slow and take patience but they know with time it can hold a strong and loving (sweat like syrup) group of Adventist. I was impressed by the youth. Though a few they are growing up and staying in the church. A group from the Sherbrooke church was putting on an evangelistic series while we were visiting.
Jumping time, I am writing (the typing is happening later) while flying over the Sahara desert. As we flew over Algeria (I followed by the handy progress map in the screen in the back of the chair in front of me), I looked down on jagged hills and valleys with shades of tan, green, and brown. That country was the setting of Lilias Trotter’s life (her life is written about in Patricia St. John’s “Until the Day Breaks…”) a woman who gave a promising art career in Europe to share Jesus with the Muslims of Algeria in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. As I looked I could see dark spots on the ground, weird, I thought. Then I realized I was seeing the shadows of clouds. What upon the ground is shade blocking the sun, up in a plane is a shadow, mind boggling. Brings my mind to how God sees our lives. On earth a cloud may block out a warm sun, but up here it is just a passing shadow. Trials and dark times to us seem to block God out, to cut us off from Him. But He always sees us, He knows the dark is just a passing shadow, and that someday, sooner than we think, there won’t be any clouds anymore, for the Son will be our sunlight. It is very powerful for me. I tend to think catastrophically, if something is not going well my mind almost immediately jumps to the possible disaster ahead and the complete ruin of my life. But this perspective helps me so much. I just need to remember that God sees the cloud shadows, even when all I see is darkness.

On the Sandy Soil

I have arrived by God's protection on Benin soil again. Here in Cotonou the whole city is built on sand pretty much, between a big lake and the ocean (this is one step beyond the foolish man!) I am leaving for Natitingou on the big bus tomorrow. Thanks for all the prayers.

A House Divided

Flying on airplanes has always been a dilemma for me. I have not been a huge flyer until recently, but in my first few years, movies were only on the big screens if at all. People talked, strangers became less of strangers, stories came of conversions or at least spiritually breakthroughs. But now right in front of me is a small screen with hundreds of forms of enterntainment, all literally at my fingertips. A good portion of it is unfortunately not great, face it, evil! So what do I do? There are some good ones like uh, well, Valkyrie, and that Al Gore movie on the environment (didn't watch it yet). But finding the goods ones means passing by the temptaions. No I don't choose the really bad ones, but maybe the slightly not so edifying, the questionable films. But really I look at the movies like brownies with only a little deadly poison, unfortunately it is hard to eat the brownie and not die from the poison. Well I had chance to gain victory this time. As we taxied out on the runway, I was listening to my MP3 and the End of the Spear movie soundtrack (that's a non poison movie, but if you sensitive to gore, I wish more were, the book is awesome too, "Beyond the gates of Splendor" by Elisabeth Elliot) and Mark Schultz's sining, "What will we do with the time that is left". Christian people forging a new futre, the past behind, what will happen from now on in each of our lives. God helped me out, the movies system crashed, no movies! I still pushed the limit and tried some documentaries, no go. And I could have gone to something else, but the meal came, and I then went back to movie trying. I rejected two films (evolution docudrama and a John Wayne romance, yuck) after a couple minutes of watching each, and went with another. A good friend of mine that spent many years on oversees missions, said that when we go out , especially to a foreign place, we pick up good and bad ideas and traits from the host culture. We also see helpful and destructive characterstics revealed in ourselves. On the transition back to our home cutlure, we have to go through and decide what to leave behind, and what to keep for our lives in Christ's service. I was only six weeks this time, and I really didn't do that whole deciding process well. I didn't prepare or pray for the overwhelming media of the West. I didn't put the lessons I had learned to practice, as I should have. And thus I end up on the plane wasting time on a so-so film. I see the process like having a suitcase. We all carry one, full but always changing cargo. We carry consequences of past actions (not guilt as Christians I hope), lesson learned on the road of life, things being learned, victories. So when I go to Benin I find blessings in their culture, in their way of living the Christian faith. I try to get rid of my destructive items, and add beneficial ones. I can also decide what is something in their culture that is a product of the Devil, inadmissable in my suitcase. I try every morining to repack my suitcase, to ask God to cover me with Jesus' blood, to wear once again His robe of righteousness. I put in the suitcase messages He may give me from His word or in my prayers, from thoughts. I ask him to help me keep out what I don't need, and to help me get rid that nasty stuff that wants be in my life.
The movie I watchedwas "A Night at the Museum 2", not worth anybody's time. At the end of the movie Abraham Lincoln tells the main character, Larry, "a house divided cannot stand". The words hit hard. One because I could have been reading the book those words came out of and building character, instead of watching a statue say it in movie filled with witchcraft. And two because what Jesus said that Abe repeated was exactly what was happening to me at that moment (some moments I wish not to repeat). My conscience said do something else, my nature chose a film. I don't know what's in your suitcase that you can't get rid of, but what I know is that the only way to get the Heaven is th have a bag full of God! and God alone! It's not easy, but God's gift is free, and His obedience too, we just have to add effort too. Ellen White went to Heaven in a vision once, when there some old pioneers, who probably did not look so old in Heaven, came up to her and asked her group what they had experienced on earth. They couldn't really get out any memories. But in the end they could still conclude, "Heaven is cheap enough." All that they went through on earth, even trial and heartache was worth it (and if you read Life Sketches, Ellen White had a real tough life, for sure). All was barely a sacrifice in comparision with eternity, God's free gift. I don't know, is Heave cheap enough to me, that makes all the difference.