Safest Place

Over the past couple of months I've pondered about the issue of safety. Now, those who know me know that I tend to sideline this factor in the things I choose to do (see "Breaks and Boons" post picture). Much to my mother's dismay, safety isn't held in very high value for me. However, living in Nigeria has challenged my stubbornness and I've begun to be a bit more cautious. Whether I like it or not, I have to be more prudent in how I live daily life here. All this has given way to questions in my mind-how God thinks about safety? What's been ingrained in me growing up is that God protects, shelters, and guards us from danger because He wants us to live safe lives. But the more I get to know this Lord of mine, the more blasphemous that sounds. A quick survey of the lives of those who've followed that radical Nazarene indicates that things don't end with a white picket fence and peaceful death while sleeping. On the contrary, for those first followers their days were marked by prison, danger, lashings, ship-wrecks, danger, ostracizing, beheading, danger, crucifixion, hunger, and oh, danger. Hmm...we really don't talk about this very much in our churches. We toss out the warning that people might not like us for what we believe, but to that we should just pray for the "lost souls" of those who mock us. How often do we do all we can to avoid anything uncomfortable? I recently devoured this book by Erwin McManus, The Barbarian Way and found some refreshing words I'd like to share.
"Jesus understood that His purpose was to save us not from pain and suffering, but from meaninglessness."

Erwin goes on to talk about the cliché, "The safest place to be is in the center of God's will." The saying has it's origins with Corrie ten Boom and her sister, Betsie, who were captives in Nazi concentration camps. This is the context in which the "safety of God's will" was being fleshed out and I must say, I think we've strayed quite a distance from the original meaning. Here's what Erwin says,:

"Clearly neither of them concluded that this expression conveyed a belief that God would keep them from suffering hardship and even death. Betsie’s statement was a declaration that to walk in the character of Christ is always the right choice, regardless of outcome or consequence. We have somehow perverted this more primal understanding to a far more civilized one. Instead of finding confidence to live as we should regardless of our circumstances, we have used it as justification to choose the path of least resistance, least difficulty, least sacrifice. Instead of concluding it is best to be wherever God wants us to be, we have decided that wherever it is best for us to be is where God wants us. Actually, God’s will for us is less about our comfort that it is about our contribution. God would never choose for us safety at the cost of significance. God created you so that your life would count, not so that you could count the days of your life.”

Though there's a part of me that wishes my God was one that would never let anything bad happen to me, never let armed robbers in, never let corrupt people get to leadership positions, never let my heart be wrung, a deeper part is relieved to know that my God has a more eternal perspective than that. Significance and contribution to the Kingdom of Light win out over safety and comfort.

Mama, kada ki damuwa = Mom, don't you worry :)

Good cheer

"Gloria" and I

At this particular juncture, my time is a bit limited, as is my power supply (NEPA is off, big surprise), so I just want to share a few pictures of the past week's festivitites leading to the holiday. I imagine that this time of year has you quite busy as well so you're checking my blog i between batches of sugar cookies, so hopefully the brevity isn't scorned. Unless of course you're bored out of your mind and you're hoping I'll have some tantilizing story to entertain you. Uh...sorry about that;) Little drummer boy/René

These pictures of nigerian's are all from this Christmas celebration for one of the SIM ministries here in Jos. These kids were kicked out of their homes for one reason or another and live in this village community called Gyaro under the guidance and structure of SIM City Ministries. At the celebration, each "family group" presented a song, memory verses, and/or a little drama. I wish I could share a video but blogger isn't cooperating with me. You're just going to have to trust me that the afternoon was priceless. The girl's group presenting their memory verse from Luke 2.

And what holiday season would be complete without a little caroling? Some of us singing, smiling, singles went out to various houses on compounds and then the hospital in an attempt to bring tidings of great joy to many people. It was a blast and well-received just about everywhere we went. "Felize Navidad" didn't go over quite like we hoped :)

Here's our crew at the hospital with your's truly dressed up as Father Christmas. Can you believe that some kids DIDN'T buy that I was Santa Clause?! They pulled on my beard and said, "That's not real!" Most broke out into a huge smile at the sight of me, especially when I started Ho-ho-hoing.

Thursday was actually Salah, a Muslim holiday so some of us took off to go play and conquer this area. It's called _[some african sounding name]_ Tribal Rocks. Lots of fun, sun, and battlewounds were had.

As they say in Nigeria: HAPPY (not merry) CHRISTMAS!!

SO, not under the radar

You know how when you arrive to a function already in full swing you just try to slip in under the radar? Ever tried doing that when you're the only white person within at least a 30 mile radius? Right. So this past weekend, I traveled to the delightful little ginger farming village of Kurmin Musa for a youth conference. Go ahead and scratch out all visions of cushy hotels, conference rooms, stickers, and catered lunches. You can hang onto the picture of oodles of people, because over 2,000 Nigerians were gathered there in Kurmin Musa. OK, so I show up with my colleagues, Shammah and Joseph, and the outdoor conference in the middle of a field, is well underway. We weren't expected to present until the evening, so I'm thinking we'll just slide in the back,under the make-shift thatched shade somewhere, wait till a break, and then locate our contacts. Oh no, there would be none of that. Despite my attempt to blend in with Nigerian atire, I stood out like a polar bear on blacktop. Pretty soon we were being ushered to the seats of honor in the center of the U-shaped area, right behind the podium...while the speaker was still

talking (all in Hausa). About 5 mins after we sit down, I start to get the notion that we're going to be introduced. Sure enough, the emcee gives the mic to Shammah and he starts talking (all in Hausa) and then asks me to stand up. Shammah says a few more things (in Hausa) and then hands the mic to me saying, "Go ahead. Greet them in Hausa and then sing a song." !! What else could I do? There I was, singing...to 2,000 people...in Hausa...with body movements. As soon as we sat back down, I said, to Shammah, "Remind me to give you a bulala (beating) later." However, later on that evening, the fun only continued when we gave our presentation about camp and I found myself dancing by myself in front of this crowd. If there's one thing I know about winning the favor of Nigerians, I know you can't go wrong with some good dance moves. From the cheers and squeals of the masses, I think I did alright. Even more importantly, the youth seemed really excited about signing up for the camp we will host there in Kurmin Musa the 2nd week in January. Something else I found fascinating this weekend was the process of taking up an offering. First of all, they must have collected money at least 5 times just in the 24 hours I was there. You learn to carry small bills so you don't look like a schmuck for not giving anything. OK, so anytime an offering is being taken, the band (or just drummers) go to town and pound out a sweet beat that makes people want to dance. And dance they do, making their way to the bowl, basket, or bag up in front. Usually in churches, people are dancing down the aisles, dropping their money in, and dancing back to their seats. After all, God loves a cheerful giver! We're so used to having solemn music playing while the pretty trays shift down the rows, no wonder people don't look forward to the offering. Well, at this conference, when certain offerings were taken, people didn't just bring money, they brought sacks of grains and huge green bars of soap (see picture). Here, churches need these items for various functions, speakers, and pastors. Can you imagine doing this next Sunday in your church? Try dropping a bar of Ivory soap or a box of cereal in the plate next time. At least you're not dragging in a goat.

Singing, dancing, giving for the kingdom...always detected by the King's radar.

Mun yi ma Yesu waka da raira = "We sang and danced for Jesus"

At a moment's notice

And this is what missionaries sometimes feel like...

ok, so perhaps a couple of us had too much fun with the ol' photo booth program. Some pictures just have to be shared.

I suppose I should use this opportunity to share a little story. A common adage around here is that in Nigeria, you need to be ready to preach, pray or die at a moment's notice. Just the other day...

**We were throwing a little program for all of our camp staff from Jos, intending to feed them, entertain, encourage, and then challenge them towards discipleship. And preferably, that would have been the order. BUT, since nothing goes according to plan here, one of my colleagues and I were an hour late to the shindig due to extended cooking time. I tried not to show it, but I was kind of freaking out because I was supposed to be orchestrating this thing. Anyways, we get there and the 3rd member of our office team, Shammah, is up, preaching away. I rush in and just break into a huge smile, watching the impromtu-ness of Nigeria at it's best. And you know what, it was a fantasic message. I certainly couldn't have done that!

**Opportunities to pray are PLENTIFUL. Ok, so I guess they are plentiful no matter where you live, but as a friend of mine said, "Out here, everything God says seems to have an exclamation point on the end." For instance, in the states, we pray for safe travels, 'journey mercies', etc. But here, it's not just something nice to throw in a prayer. We are ALWAYS praying for people as they travel with great sincerity. So many factors that can make a pleasant 2 hour drive to a village turn into a living nightmare. Tire-busting potholes covering 80% of the road, huge trucks with no regulations on the load their carrying, cars passing on both sides while oncoming traffic isn't budging, and then...we have the various traffic stops where "officers" set up road blocks so they can "inspect vehicles." Anyways, all this is to say, that the nature of life here demands constant prayer. Which leads me to the final thing...

**When someone dies here, quite often, family and friends won't REALLY know the cause. A typical story will be told like this: Man had an injured leg, so he went to the hospital and died. That will honestly be all the details you get from the family, not because they are witholding stuff from you, but because that's all they know! Strangely, I find the acceptance of death refreshing because our western culture likes to believe that one's invincible...and that promotes such a false sense of hope. Don't worry, I'm not eager to die, but the fact is, at a moment's notice it could happen and I better be ready.

Ku yi mani addu'a = pray for me

Breaks and 'Boons

Have you ever begun a letter, email, or, let’s say, blog, half a dozen times and can’t seem to finish it? Welcome to my life. There’s seem to be big fat road barrier keeping me from posting a blog. Tonight, however, I’ve committed not to go to bed until I can post something. Thing is…I’ve been having a hard time deciding what to write about. So I’m going to go with what I have the coolest pictures of first. Worth a thousand words…even those I should have writted a week ago? Good.

Right-o. So over a week ago, I officially finished my Hausa language training! **the crowd goes wild** To celebrate, our class decided to take a trip to Yankari Game Reserve for a little safari and time in the natural warm springs. The safari was decent (of note we saw lions, crocs, and bush bucks), but didn’t change my life. Way more exciting were the baboons and warthogs roaming around the premises terrorizing patrons. (pictured is one trying to intimidate George into turning over his cookie. Didn't work) I’m serious, the ‘boons opened our sliding windows to our rooms and came in, looking for food. The guys that were with us came back from swimming to find 8 baboons in their room, lounging around, having polished off all the food they had. They may look cute, but they were pretty vicous. Of couse, that’s what made it exciting. The warm springs (constant 31 C) also made the trip worth it. Check out the pictures…absolutely beautiful.

I returned from the trip refreshed and ready to dive back into full time camp ministry. It’s been difficult the past few weeks trying to do intensive language study as well as remaining involved with the daily ministry needs. Now, I’m focused and excited about writing materials for next years camp, raising awareness, and connecting with former and future camp staff. Time to jump out and get my feet wet!

Here's another classic René-favorite, leaping from something ridiculous into water. The 3 pictures before this one were of me standing on top, pondering whether the potential gain outweighed the potential loss...rational thinking gave way to my physics estimates and well, you can see what happend.

Word for the day: Na gama!
= I finished!