hand-crafted.

less than a week. 4 days. 100 hours. 
thats it. when the time runs out i will be heading back to america. 
i can't yet grasp the reality of leaving. its like it can't even process it in my mind. of course, there have been plenty of times that stress has caused tears to flow, but i just can't imagine not being here, not seeing africans. it's rather strange, because from past experiences once i hit this point of being so close to departing i step so far away from all of those that truly matter, even to the point of drawing offense or hurt feelings [i promise its not intentional, just a different coping mechanism]. 
however, it has been the absolute opposite. i have found that i want to spend every moment with africans, with my team, anything that encompasses my time here i want to be right there. i wonder if this is a different mechanism that God is trying to teach me? i am not too sure, but i am going to be honest.... it scares me. i can just imagine losing it as soon as i get on the plane; and all the emotions that i have tried so hard to face- roll out in one big ball. absolutely horrible. 
wow. this is sounding more like a private diary entry...but i feel better that i be completely vulnerable to the situation. 


despite this battle of emotions, i want to leave you with a few key things i have learned from the african people. 


#1. actions speak louder than words. yes. this is quite the common phrase and my mother even still directs me with this advice. however, due to the fact that language is not a reliable reference, a lot of my time spent with africans was observation [as well as making an idiot out of myself when i try to speak Bambara or French]. it doesn't take long to realize that these people are hard workers, servants, caring and relational. they spend time. they are event-oriented. life is family. they simply take the time to be with people. 
example: i recently had the privilege of heading out to a field owned by my sweet Ivorian family. the day was wonderful and filled with laughter and plenty of food. but at the end of the day, this Ivorian crew and one toubab walked from surrounding village to village to merely greet people. the greetings are so simple. it is not any huge engagement, but a kind heart reaching out to let someone know that you care. do we understand what it means to care? "care.. it means to feel concern or interest; attach importance to something." this action of traveling to meet someone where they are at in order to for them to feel 'known', worth something...it's an action that doesn't need words. 

1 john 3.18 Dear children, let’s not merely say that we love each other; 

let us show the truth by our actions.

#2 dance like david danced. what would an africa be without its reputation of colorful music and demonstrative dance! boy i love it! but in all honesty, the africans dance because it is an expression of who they are, where they came from, what they are doing, what they want to say... its delightful. so many times we place our focus on outer attention and how we may be perceived if we act in this way or that. now i am not saying that all of us need to start dancing up and down the aisles while one by one get escorted out to the foyer.. no... but express your love and joy to the Lord in a way that is actually 'expressive'. [ i may be stepping on people's toes on this one] really folks, you know what the Lord has done for you right? you see where he has brought you from? the faithfulness he has demonstrated throughout your life? he at least deserves a good hand clap and smile. there really is no specific example besides the fact that the african people express their praise to the Lord through dance and in the same attitude should we clap, sing, shout, jump, spin, dance... whatever it is... when you truly express the joy of the Lord, you too [in your own way] will dance like David danced. 

2 Samuel 6.14  Then David danced before 

the LORD with all his might. 

#3 faith in prayer. believe it or not these two actually go together. & no this isn't some new concept to me, but if you could see & hear these people pray, you would then gain a different perspective, perhaps a more serious perspective on one's prayer life. 

example: i was embedding with a family from the church and they had the lovely ritual of rising at 5 am to pray, sing songs and share a short devotion. well, it was a friday morning [i had already embraced the early riser prayer] and Mama comes in summoning me quickly to come with her to the church for prayer. all right, i am thinking to myself. i can always use a good prayer meeting. we arrived at the church around 10 am and you could already here the raised voices from outside the church. we enter and sit down on the right where the majority of the women sat. a lot of african prayer meetings have a structure of numerous short prayers for different needs and then breaks of singing or testimony sharing. & that is exactly the structure being executed. however, there was a point that we stopped, like took a break. it didn't take too long for me to finally come to the understanding that this was a 'fasting' prayer meeting. to make a long story short.. after 7 hours of praying for everything and everyone i could think of and a rumbling empty stomach, we all together broke fast and parted our separate ways around 5 pm. now i know that length of prayer means nothing, BUT the dedication of these people to come for a majority of the day to pray for their families, their country, their church was astounding. africans pray with determination. africans pray with zeal. africans pray with faith. a faith that literally echoes their belief in the High God, the Healer, the Provider, the Faithful Father, the Loving Savior, the One True Living God. 
without faith in prayer ... prayer is nothing but a persuasive speech. 

1 john 5.14-15  And we are confident that he hears us whenever 

we ask for anything that pleases him. And since we know he hears us 

when we make our requests, we also know that 

he will give us what we ask for.

#4. possessions are fruitless. this may sound obvious considering mali is the fourth poorest country in the world and the majority of the population is sleeping on a dirt floor within four mud walls, nonetheless, although the people are poor, you would never know based off of their warm genuine smiles and jubilant personalities. after discovering giving to be one of my spiritual gifts, i decided to intentionally put it into practice. i then realized the position of the african and the majorities current status. you have so little but give so much. 
example: i work weekly with a couple guys from Sierra Leone whose business is in tie-dye. thankfully, they speak English, so the relationship has been able to extend a little farther than the Bambara-speaking african. these men have families. they have houses to pay for. resources to be in stock. transportation fees to pay. let me just say: they don't have money. business is not booming. they make make make, but sell way to short. pi would love to help their business by bringing some of their products to the states]. HOWEVER, despite the financial situation and penny to your name lifestyle, these men have furnished us with gifts...tablecloths, napkins, table-runners, aprons... their hard work given in friendship. the africans have reminded me not only of temporary excitement material possessions and money can offer, but of the danger it can bring to your spiritual walk. 
my possessions will not produce the fruit that God intended. 

Matthew 16.26 for what will it profit a man if he 

gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? 

#5. God's specific people include africans. its so easy to get caught up in your own culture and unconsciously believe that God called your people to reach everyone else. its alright. i am guilty of this very thought. but let me inform you that God has called a specific people to follow after Him and call on His name, but that people does not consist of all anglo-americans. God's 'team' is beautifully patterned with hispanics, asians, arabs, indians, africans... 
example: within the last couple of months of my time here i was given the opportunity to spend 4 days in a village a few hours outside of Bamako. the trip was incredible and God did many miracles from healing major head and leg pains to delivering witch doctors to encouraging the local believers. our team worked with a very special young couple, Pastor Moes & Ester. This young pastor is a spitfire for spreading the gospel and has truly dedicated his life to serving and reaching the people in the surrounding villages. We were told that before he began the church on his property, Pastor Moes did a 90 day evangelism strategy, where he traveled from village to village preaching the good news [never returning home]. He has begun multiple annexes in the villages, which has served as follow up and discipleship for that distinct area. Moes is one of many examples of God using his specific people for his specific plan. the africans have showed me that foreign missionaries can do the job well, but it is the africans who will reach the africans [well]. God is raising up leaders all across this globe to reach the nations... and africans are very much a part of that. 

Acts 8. 37.38 As they rode along, they came to some water, 

and the eunuch said, “Look! There’s some water! 

Why can’t I be baptized?” He ordered the carriage to stop, 

and they went down into the water, and Philip baptized him.

the african people are truly a hand-crafted gift from the Lord. 

i thank Him everyday for allowing me to be apart of their culture & their lives. i know this is not the end.... it is simply the beginning of a beautiful kinship that will last through eternity. 

blood that counts.

"i should have known we would have no luck finding a taxi this morning." 

gloria and i chuckled with each other as we found ourselves walking ALL the way to church (which is really not that far) and admiring the numerous sheep that were being slaughtered right before our eyes on both sides of the street. no i promise thats not a typical sunday in bamako. however, today is a Muslim holiday. tabaski. 

on this day of 'sacrifice', men, women, and children are expected to dress in their finest clothing to perform prayer in a large congregation in an open field or mosque. Those Muslims who can afford, sacrifice a sheep as a symbol of Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his only son. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________

According to Islamic tradition, one of the main trials of Abraham's life was to face the command of God to devote his dearest possession, his only son. Upon hearing this command, he prepared to submit to God’s will. During this preparation, Satan tempted Abraham and his family by trying to dissuade them from carrying out God's commandment, but he drove Satan away by throwing pebbles at him.

When Ishmael was about thirteen, God decided to test their faith in public. Abraham had a recurring dream, in which God was commanding him to offer his son as a sacrifice, which God had granted him after many years of deep prayer. Abraham knew that the dreams of the prophets were divinely inspired, and one of the ways in which God communicated with his prophets. When the intent of the dreams became clear to him, Abraham decided to fulfill God's command and offer Ishmael for sacrifice.

Although Abraham was ready to sacrifice his dearest for Allah's sake, he could not just go and drag his son to the place of sacrifice without his consent. Ishmael had to be consulted as to whether he was willing to give up his life as fulfillment to God's command. This consultation would be a major test of Ishmael's maturity in faith, love and commitment for Allah, willingness to obey his father and sacrifice his own life for the sake of Allah. Abraham presented the matter to his son and asked for his opinion about the dreams of slaughtering him. Ishmael did not show any hesitation or reservation even for a moment. He said, "Father, do what you have been commanded. You will find me, Insha'Allah (God willing), to be very patient." When both father and son had shown their perfect obedience to Allah and they had practically demonstrated their willingness to sacrifice their most precious possessions for His sake — Abraham by laying down his son for sacrifice and Ishmael by lying patiently under the knife – Allah called out to them stating that his sincere intentions had been accepted, and that he need not carry out the killing of Ishmael. Instead, Abraham was told to replace his son with a ram to sacrifice instead. 

According to the Biblical story, Abraham sets out to obey God's command without questioning but does not state in front of isaac that he is the intended sacrifice. After Isaac is bound to an altar, the angel of God stops Abraham at the last minute, saying, "now i know you fear God." At this point Abraham sees a ram caught in some nearby bush and sacrifices the ram in Isaac's place. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________

obviously, we see the differences in the story pulled from the Qur'an and the one taken from the Bible.  

Abraham never believed God wold take a human sacrifice. It just wasn’t consistent with His nature.. And even if God let the knife touch Isaac- I truly believe God would have resurrected him. 

Our (Christian perspective) God is a God of love and compassion. Whereas in Islam they can't even gather any sort of proof that Allah even cares for them, much less love them. 

to the Muslim: Tabaski is there time for forgiveness- 

but for the Christian this story is a sign and reminder of obedience. [hebrews 9.26] 

to the Muslim- this annual event gives them 

some sort of hope that one day they will have relationship with Allah. 

for the Christian: God has already sent the only sacrifice, Jesus the only human in all history who has ever been asked to be a sacrifice and shed blood for forgiveness, that now brings us into relationship with God. 

i know this blog was long, but i felt it necessary not only to provide interesting and factual information about our muslim neighbors, but also to serve as a reminder of the One who did shed His blood for us. & in that we are free. yes, we as christians still sacrifice on a certain level our lives to God, but it is no where near or on any level of that of what Christ Jesus did for all mankind. because of his ultimate sacrifice we can now be in relationship with our Creator, just as He intended it to be from the very beginning. 

His is the only blood that brings freedom from all sins.  

Keru Yakaar.

hello all! i have made it back from Dakar safe and sound and have many many stories to share! i will put up a few posts over these next couple of days to update you on my recent adventures. :) 
& for those of who did not know. i took a short trip to Dakar, Senegal to work in a medical clinic, Keru Yakaar (house of hope). i am quite interested in working medical overseas and wanted to take a look at how different centers operate and how that may work into my future ministry. 


 Ayiwa! monday, october 24 was my first day at the clinic. i was a little nervous only for the reason that being in a different country i had no language and walking to a place i have never been to go meet people i have never met made me feel a little uneasy. nevertheless, i used the whole morning for prayer and left on this journey with confidence that God would get me there! in following the directions given to me, i was to arrive at the center at 7.40 am. i would see a large line of people lined up outside and i was to push my way through and say the name 'Beatrice' (the name of the lady who runs the place). and supposedly they would let me in and i would then get some sort of introduction and run down of the day. 
7.40 comes and i have made it to the clinic. step one complete. there are two gates. a larger one and then a much smaller one, where the people were lined up. i decide to go over to the larger one because i saw some africans standing on the inside of the gate and i assumed that they worked there. so i walked up and asked the guy for 'Beatrice', he looks at me rather strange and by hand motions and the little french i know... i make out that i must wait until they finish praying. (at this point i was thinking, well the point of me coming up to you is so i could join them for prayer, but alright i will wait). around 15 minutes pass and i all of a sudden find myself being led by this African girl, who i am pretty sure does NOT work there and probably just used me to cut in front of all of these people. but we make it in and she leads me through one waiting area to a line of benches outside in front of a separate building. it didn't take me long to realize i don't think this is where i was intending on going. so i call Becky Tarr (the west african AG area directors who we were staying with). i hand the phone over to the girl and becky explains to her that i need to see 'beatrice'. the girl gets up and leads me to another african girl (this one i was positive was a worker, but still not beatrice). she passes the phone off to her and so now i am standing in this hallway wondering if i am even allowed in this area. she finishes up on the phone and leads me to a door that reads the word 'pharmacy' in French, of course. we walk in and i am greeted by this short, spunky and quite friendly African woman. 'i am vivian' she says. alright, so still haven't found Beatrice, but hey someone who speaks some English-- i'll take it. she goes on to tell me that beatrice is sick and would not be coming in today. lol of course. 
so Vivian, who is Congolise, pulls up a chair for me and orders me to sit there. i dare not obey. about 20 minutes pass by as i am sitting there observing her walking around taking care of business. finally, she motions me to come with her and she takes me on a tour of the facility. 
FACILITY: 
-when you walk into the center: you enter facing a large waiting area with lines of benches. that is where the people get their ticket and pay for the visit (around 500 francs). they then sit down in the area according to their needs. they have with them a small blue paper book that contains their records. they will carry that with them to each place they go. 
-there is a two areas that serve the purpose for Pharmacy. the one i was in was also used for offices (administrative). 
-on both sides of the waiting area are two consultation rooms where the patients will go in and talk with the doctor to talk about their needs and what type of medicine they need. they leave their blue book with them and go outside to wait again to see the person who will give them their medication. the nurse will then take the books to the pharmacy to get the medicine. he heads back to the room and begins to call out one at a time the patients to come in and get their medications. 
-also in the main building they have room for lab work and also a separate waiting room that plays the Jesus film in Wolof (the local language). 
-outside the main building is another small building where people go to get wounds 'dressed'. 
-if  you walk through the main waiting room, on the other side is a separate building for dental work. 


After we finished up the tour we head back to the office to grab me a gown. Vivian asks me where i would like to work for the day. i did not hesitate in saying that i would love to go bandage people up! we head outside to the small room. a huge line of people was already forming. i walk in to see a happy African man by the name of Carlos (typical African name right lol). he has Christian music playing in the background (in Wolof) and gave me the hugest smile in discovering i would be working beside him for the day. 
lets get to work! patients start coming in one by one. tore up ankles, fingers, toes, lips, chins, arms... you name it. now you are probably thinking, ok chels, its bandaging- a cut toe or cut finger, i could do that... yah i am sure you could, but let me inform you that these open wounds have not been attended to in weeks and they have now reached past the infection stage. so not only do they look absolutely disgusting, but they have quite the vile smell and are going to hurt ten times worse now.  
 ok so Carlos bandages a few people (oh and carlos speaks a little bit of English....see God's looking out for me (:) and then he motions me to come over and tells me 'ok your turn'. 
let me just tell you, i love africans. first because they do things however they want and second they for some reason have this confidence in you that you know how to do something after seeing it done maybe two times. 
there i am, i find myself bandaging up these people and from time to time discover that no one else is in the room besides me and the patient. (see i am already working there)! 
this first day's experience was wonderful. now to attempt to get home. 
suppose i wil walk, its a nice ocean breezy day. 

thank you jesus for your faithfulness and being El Roi in my life. 

day 12. 8.56 am [muslim&christian]

This morning held a special moment. 

I slowly woke up around 6.30. Kadidia was already up, as well, and was soon beginning her morning prayer. I grab my devotional and iPod and delve into some good Jesus time. Moments later Kadidia walks back into where I am sitting. I assume she has finished her prayer, so I can now tell her good morning.. “Kadidia, I ni sogoma.’ “nse’ she responds, ‘ami, I ni sogoma.’ (I will miss her morning greetings) 

She proceeds outside, which I then assume she is headed to the bathroom.  

I  hardly realized she had returned until I see her literally right next to me. 

She lays on the mattress looking quite tired.. Well, I find out she did not get that much sleep because I guess the electricity went out that night and she was fanning me for a majority of the night- talk about point of humility.

A few minutes went by (I am still doing my devotions at this point), I look at her and decide to give her my music to listen to.. 

It was worship music and I just prayed that although it was in English that her heart would be warmed by the love of our true God. 

The song that was playing was talking about how God sent his son to die for us- 

freely you gave it all for us, 

surrendered your life upon the cross, 

savior and king, rescued the word, this is our God. 

I continue my devotions while frequently glancing over at my beautiful african sister. 

She then asks to hear me sing.. (earlier, I had shown them a recording that I just so happened to have on my iPod and she wanted to listen to it again). As soon as the song begins-- her face lights up and she begins moving her head to the music. I couldn’t help but slightly giggle...Africans are so funny with music. 

‘Abanna’ she says (meaning its finished). I then turned it on to a song that talked about his perfect love..

i watched her for a little while... 

the look on her face just made it seem that she was really wanting to know what it said and that she had so many questions... 

You know I am not too sure how much of an influence I have been at all- but I I know that God has been with me. I just pray that my life has shone brightly for them to get even a glimpse of the love of Jesus. This time with this family has been so special.. 

I love these people so so very much and pray that they one day and I hope that day be soon- that they too will know how deep the father’s love for us

Day 8. 6.15 pm [muslim&christian]

It’s interesting. 

Everyday I think 

‘I wonder if tomorrow I will get tired of this place 

and just want to give up and leave’... 

But no. instead, I find that I absolutely love it here... How??? I am sitting around all day cooking and frustrating myself with the lack of communication that i so battle with everyday. i am literally doing the same thing, different day. But yet I can’t imagine myself being anywhere else than here. The only logical answer is the hand and work of God. 

He somehow births a love and compassion for the things you would normally not give a second thought.. 

How can this be? How can I love being in a mosquito-infested place where I sleep on the hard floor and eat with my hands all day.. A place where I squat to pee in a hole and take bucket baths.. 

I doesn’t make any sense to the human mind, but to God it makes perfect sense. It’s passion. It’s compassion... Funny... I find myself the happiest when I lack familiarity. 

Thank you Lord for keeping me and strengthening me everyday.

you are an amazing, loving, faithful, compassionate Father. 

day 4. 5.40 am [christian&muslim]

I have now been up for a good hour and have realized that my transition from room one (sleeping on the floor with a small fan) to room two (sleeping on a bed with no fan) has brought me many itchy spots. The soso (mosquitos) have eaten me alive. Seriously. More than 50 just on my arms. If my mornings were not so early the days probably wouldn’t feel as long..i need rest... So I lean on the Lord and through the exhaustion I will turn to God to be the lifter of my head. 

“your perfect love casts all my fear away 

My hope is centered on your name 

And in the darkest hour when I see no escape

i know your word will light my way." 

day 1. 10.10 am. [muslim&christian]

alright family and friends. before i delve into a series of posts about my 

time living with an african muslim family. 

i wil tell you that a lot of these are journal entries- which means 

they were recorded at that precise moment in time- 

thus making the information a lot more raw, 

which i hope can make the stories i little bit more picturesque. 

i will highlight things in each post.. which means they are 

important to remember, so jot down these names and 

remember them in  your prayers. thank you all :) 

It's barely passed 10 am and I feel like I have been up forever, but that could be because I have already been up for 5 hours. I slept zilch. Most likely nerves & the adjustment to a new environment. I got up at 5 am. 

Kadidia (my roommate, who is Madame Djeneba’s younger sister, although she is still quite old) was already up thank God because I really had to go to the bathroom...picking up on the fact that I was barely awake and needed a little bit of guidance in this unfamiliar territory, she grasps my hand and takes me to this area right behind the kitchen. I walk into this small room with stained tile flooring and concrete walls and there lay before me the throne of stench. I attempt to hold myself over this hole to relieve my bladder, as I hold my breath trying not to breath in the awful stench. I am so tired but all I can really think about is what is going to happen my first day here at the house. I finish up, thank God I was awake enough to remember to bring toilet paper, because Africans use their left hand to use to the bathroom, and we head back to our room. 

I decide, since I am already awake and can’t imagine trying to catch some sleep now, to go ahead and do my devotions. I go into the connected room and sit down to begin some much needed Jesus time. About half way through, Kadidia, comes in and begins laying our her mat & dressing in proper attire for Muslim prayer. As she began her ritualistic motions, I couldn’t hold back the bottle of emotions and began to cry. 

I became overwhelmed. Overwhelmed of the reality that I was here praying to the true God while right beside me I hear the chant of fake, empty hope to a religion that is all built on lies. Shortly following we both finish up. I look over to catch her watching me and in the most gentle, almost sad, voice she says my (Malian) name ‘Ami.’ and asks me in Bambara if I would like a tissue. I accepted of course. She then took me (right outside of our room) to go wash my face (with a plastic teakettle full of water) and brush my teeth. At this point I still had no idea where I would be cleaning myself so I just decided to not worry about it. 

I decide to check out the rest of the courtyard and walk into a small room connected to ‘the hole’. I walk in to find one of the worker girls, DJeneba. I had no idea how to say can I help you..so I improvised and told her I was looking for work. (if you understood Bambara you would have laughed at my request). She let me help her mix this grain that I assumed was going to be our breakfast, but then motions me to go out and wash. Obviously I must have smelt. I took a short bucket bath (in the same room as the deep dark hole) and then go out in front of the house to go sit with Kadidia. We sit out there for a little while watching the traffic. You have to remember this is my first day here so we are all still trying to figure each other out. 

Madame comes out, greets us and motions us to come and eat (na dumini ke). We set up the a few wired chairs and plant ourselves right outside of our room. The youngest worker, Sali, brings me a bowl of the soupy grain stuff, called monie. Accompanied with the grain was these lovely little sweet  rice pockets served with some hot tea. Eating and chatting, eating and chatting. My Bambara is taking me only a little ways, so decide to grab something concrete that can stir up conversation as well as use vocabulary I am quite familiar with. I slip into my room quickly to grab some family photos. I bring out the pictures and introduce them informally to my family. They were delighted that I was revealing elements of me to them- very special elements. 

Breakfast and conversation ended & I  was then told to accompany Fatim (Madame’s daughter-in-law) to the market. We dash off on a moto and zip through all the cracks of the market to buy that days cooking ingredients. By the time we arrive back at the house it still has not even reached 10 am. Within 5 minutes of  our arrival, I then am sent off with Sali to purchase coal. She empties the bag of food that we just bought and we take it across the street to the mound of coal. Fill the bag, pay the man, and walk back to house, which now brings me to this point of time.. A little past 10 and I am beginning to cut tomatoes in attempt to assist in cooking peanut sauce (tigadege).... 

tears of ignorance.

The SaFER’s recently delved into another week long course. 

Taught by our beautiful missionary colleague, Linda Arzouni, we were challenged with understanding 

and appreciating the various social games played out in different cultures. 

We fought and wrestled with the idea of contextualization and repeated many times to ourselves that 

“different is not wrong.” Pulled from our text, Transforming Culture by Lingenfelter, 

Linda composed questions for each chapter, that we were to have completed before the next class session. 

I am sure that all of the girls would agree that our brains were fried by the end of each chapter. 

Nevertheless, by the graciousness of God, we still somehow obtained enough information to provide thorough discussion. 

Now for me, this class was counted as university credit, so it was crucial that 

I bump my attentiveness up a notch. With that being said, by the end of the week 

I couldn’t help but  imagine if I would have chosen to take this course back in America. 

Now not to say that the course would be taught at a lower standard or not offer quality material; 

however, the benefit and value of being able to encounter culture and put into action the 

principles learned is incomparable. I was able to sit in a room with seasoned missionaries who 

shared story after story of the very instances that were mentioned in the book. ‘Alright’ you say, 

‘a guest missionary can come in and teach the same course and provide the same examples’; 

well, yes, true. The difference lies within the application of the student. 

So I have sat in class and contended with the many culture struggles that missionaries face everyday, 

I now can apply it immediately to my very own life and experiences. 

I am living out contextualization at that very moment. 

Let me share with you an entry from my journal discussing my own personal convictions concerning the class: 

“I am on the verge of tears. I feel ashamed and the embarrassment of my ignorance has swallowed me. My worldview has been more narrow than what I thought and perceived it to be. If I am this narrow minded and ignorant as I have come to realize, I can’t imagine the suffering of the individual who has never been face to face with difference. I am finally understanding what it means to truly die to yourself.  If you are truly committed and devoted to understanding and embracing culture there is NO room for selfishness. You cannot afford it. Culture is so complex and grueling at times and the moment that your perspective focuses back on you, you have then lost sight of what is around you. You must always be aware of the other person. I have found myself ignorant in the aspect of unawareness of what I was doing or not doing, which in my frame of mind: it is better to do something wrong than not do something at all, and that is exactly what I was doing. My ignorance lead me to silence and I was not asking questions...may I be transformed from ignorance into understanding, awareness, compassion.”

I truly believe that these convictions came from the result of fairly 

recent experienced mistakes. If I had not been present in this setting and already 

had some background in interacting with different culture, I hesitate to believe that 

my response would have been the same in am American university environment. 

It was crucial for me to be in this exact place at this exact time learning this precise 

information. Information that has now been weaved into my being, my worldview, my attitude. 

Information that will forever effect how I chose to respond to the world and its many colors.  

jesusin

HISculturalsetting. 

john 4.22 - matthew 8.10.12

matthew 24 - mark 13 

john 4.21-24- luke 10.29-42

matthew 15.21-28 - luke 19.1-10

i smell & itch.

i love mali. 

(5.15 am) i woke up this morning, no running water for the fourth day, go outside across the way to meet a taxi driver i have never met before, somehow make it to the boys caritas (6.15 am)--the taxi man has no change so i trust that he will bring me back change (as he proceeded to drive off to go find change or small cfa). i stand outside of the not normally locked door and wondering if anyone is even there. i search and finally find an older gentleman, whom i am not sure what position he even holds at the organization, he climbs over the wall to unlock the door and there inside i find thirty sleeping boys sprawled out on the floor. seeing that i had arrived, the man on duty abruptly woke all of the boys up. (i felt bad, they looked in a dead sleep). some shuffle their feet to morning chores, while others scurry off to go buy bread and beans from the local boutique (7.00 am) 

it is a challenge to talk to the director who speaks no English. we attempt to figure out how much bread and beans to buy. not really too sure if the whole conversation was actually successful, but all i know is i gave money to hopefully cover the breakfast that morning. i then found myself sitting in this office in awkward silence with another gentleman i have never seen before. the boys finish up around 7.20 am and i cut the bread and place the bowls of beans on the ground in five sections. the center tries to teach the boys respect and social norms, so they wait for their bread until i call their name from the book. well it's more like a distorted rendition of their name; it tends to come out in some butchered form that hardly resembles their real name. nevertheless, they could care less and are happy to get their breakfast. before i leave to head off to BCA (Bamako Christian Academy), i ask them what they want me to bring next week. all i hear is "poulet!!!!!' "she!!!!!" (chicken). lol i laughed... but in all reality it is sad that when we bring sardines its a treat for them, imagine them receiving chicken. although it costs a fortune, i am strongly considering it. man i love this place. 

(8.15 am) taxi's are always an adventure. i had never been to BCA before so i was hoping that i could find it perfectly fine from the directions i had heard. well i did arrive safely and then had no idea where to go... so i open the gate and my (assuming at that time) precious little kindergarten class stood there waiting for me. it was a nice introduction to my new little missionary kid friends. : ) brazil.america.scotland.africa. they are from all around. i lead them outside to the grassy area. at this point my mind is racing because i have no idea what to do with these children, so i look inside this shed and find all of these hockey sticks. alright. (9.00 am) we can play field hockey. apparently, they had never played hockey with a ball and soccer goals before, so they got a big kick out of it. that 45 minutes was hilarious. they were panting as they headed off to Bible class. haha. (9.45 am) my second PE class was third, fourth and fifth graders. that class was filled with scratches and tears. lets just say they are little bit more competitive. maybe hockey sticks weren't the best idea. if you have any ideas, let me know.. their attention span is like 2 seconds so i need to keep the moving at all times!! 

(10.45 am) well at this point my feet are killing me. i am just as tired as the kids and its not even 11.00 yet. once again i head out to go find another taxi to stop by the apartment to pick ariel up to go to tie-dye. the five hours of sleep and no shower are beginning to hit me. Lord please just give me strength. (that is a common prayer that i have). i close my eyes for a little bit until we arrive at our destination. in all reality this place is an outside african "bar". seriously. this little place serves as a bar for the whole community. you should see their store room: filled with wine and beer, as well as their own personal system of making it right in their courtyard. anyways, (12.00 pm) we ended up only staying for a couple hours, plus it seemed that their business has been rising to higher demand over these last couple weeks so they had numerous orders to complete for people.

we leave on low fuel (our bodies that is) and grab a bite to eat. (2.30 pm) the ride back home we are praying that our water is turned back on. but it wasn't. i don't even want to fill you in on the parts of our apartment that have been affected by the lack of water. yah.. lets just leave it at that. 

anyways. i share this day with you to wish everyone a happy monday and week!!! 

be open for God to use you in all sorts of ways. He wants to!! so so bad! 

keep that heart, head and hands ready to be used. :) 

even when your hair smells and mosquito bites itch, keep pressing on! 

& don't forget to praise and bless His name. just for the mere fact that he is God. 

bless you all and love you all. 

Have your roots planted deep in Christ. Grow in Him. Get your strength from Him. Let Him make you strong in the faith as you have been taught. Your life should be full of thanks to Him.Colossians2.7

transformation.

my apologies for the lengthy pause in writing. today i will share a few of the many incredible moments that God has blessed me so much in witnessing and being a part of. keep in mind the title of this blog & how it applies to each instance. 

firstmomentoftransformation. 

monday seemed to have started as a drab day. it rained all night and in the early morning, which made trekking to find a taxi not the most enjoyable activity. on top of that this rather annoying cold virus sort of thing has been traveling around the apartment, and it decided to grace me with its presence this morning. nevertheless, i made my way to bambara and carried onto the grocery store to pick up weekly groceries. after returning home and taking a rather long nap, ms ariel, our little artist, most kindly offered each of us to join her on the roof to paint our own canvas. now i am by no means an artist of any kind, but hey its all about community, so i joined. it was a beautiful afternoon. cool after the rain. the sun barely peeking through the clouds. quite lovely. so the painting began and the creative juices were 'trying' to flow. we all began our paintings and even though we were getting more paint on ourselves than the canvas, the company of these sisters was a grand affair. after about thirty minutes, we finished our creation projects and headed out to the streets of our neighborhood to each find someone to gift our paintings to. it didn't take too long for children to be everywhere and wanting to see what we were holding. we all eventually found a certain woman or child to give our paintings to: natali to a young boy, ariel to a young adult woman, gloria to a completely covered Muslim woman and I to an older woman. the best part about giving a gift is that the receiver is so caught off guard. they have no idea how to respond. the combination of shock and gratitude flood their face and it's in those moments you thank the Lord for his goodness. why is it so often we miss God in the moments that scream his love and kindness? that woman may never understand why i gave her a painting, but she does understand the sense of value and love that she felt at that moment. paint transforms. 

secondmomentoftransformation.

thursday was a beautiful day. the cold was eventually leaving me, but unfortunately began its work in natali. it had already been quite the busy morning and noontime, and afternoon was approaching fast. it always seems that the busier you are the faster the day goes by. anyhow, i had just walked into the apartment when natali asked if i wanted to accompany her to the streets to test out her talibe ministry. natali adores the talibe boys and frequently throughout the week works with a specific boys center on the other side of Bamako. she has built quite the relationship with them. anytime we eat on that side of town, she normally packs up her leftovers and hands them out before catching a taxi. her passion is inspring. mat, action kids bible, balloons, figurines and candy are what is compiled in this trial run of reaching the boys at a deeper level. we decide to set up camp right next to a local grocery store and pray that it's a good spot to NOT get run off. before we could even lay the mat down a few boys were already crowding around. their initial response i'm sure was what food do you have for me. however, when natali sat down and opened up the action kids (comic) Bible that she translated into Bambara and began to read the creation story, their faces changed. they were enthralled with the pictures and inquisitive about the characters. the next couple hours was filled with games, balloons, bread, candy and a personal photo session. these boys are precious. you could see the hunger in their eyes for just a little bit of time. they treasured this time that we took to hang out with them. this picture is a perfect description of how the scene appeared..like a party!! however, past the smiles and laughter, our hearts ached for these boys. once again, a moment of complete and utter gratefulness for a God who has an infallible  and unconditional love for each and every human being overwhelmed me. balloons transform. 

thirdmomentoftransformation.

sunday was bright and early. rainy season seems to be taking a break and flashes of hot have emerged once again. but who am i to complain. i am in beautiful africa and about to be blessed by the national church and it's lovely congregation. gloria and i make it to sunday school. a little tired but we made it. in between sunday school and end of worship we glance over our youth lesson. the last few weeks we have taught on prayer, the word and faith and we are now finishing up on salvation. let me just tell you i love these kids. ya at times they look like they are bored out of their mind but that is when you make them get up and role play the story of the prodigal son or participate in a relay race. (you have to be quite creative here considering you are teaching your lesson in the pastors courtyard). alright. so we begin our second session on salvation and ask the kids if any of them had a chance to share their faith and want to share it with the rest of us. two of them answered.

one girl told us how she had excelled well on her test and her muslim friend asked how that could be. the girl told her she had prayed and God helped her in remembering the things that she had remembered. the muslim girl asked if she would pray for her to do better on her next test. the girl of course agreed and prayed for her friend. after the next test, the muslim girl came back and shared with the girl her test results. they were higher than before! the muslim girl was shocked. the girl proceeded to tell her, see my God is a God who always hears our prayers. He answers our prayers. the muslim girl ended up accepting Jesus into her heart, but could not take a Bible home with her because her father would forbid it. what a story of faith! one boy told us how he has a muslim friend who continually comes to his house. apparently, the boy's father had told the boy that you must read your Bible everyday. so one day when this muslim friend was over it was time for the boy to go read his Bible. the friend asked what he was doing and the boy told him he was reading his Bible. the muslim friend wanted to read with him. for weeks now the boy has been sharing bible stories with his muslim friend.. who says that he accepts the word and Jesus but can not take a Bible home or let his father know that he is reading the Bible. 

if these stories aren't encouraging i don't know what is! gloria and i were so joyous to see that these kids were taking what the Lord had placed on our heart's to teach them and actually using it! these stories reminded me once again, that no matter if i master the native language, my efforts in reaching these people will never be as effective or successful than that of their own people. they are the greatest tool. if we can simply play a role in help disciple the believers that exist in mali, they can then be equipped to go and preach the truth! salvation transforms. 

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in the same way let your light shine before others so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. Matthew 5.16