A Dialogue with Jesus

Listen to me.

Ok, I’m here.

No you’re not. Stop trying to do that yourself. My yoke is easy and my burden is light. (Mt. 11:30)

What? Making 5 batches of cookies? Planning meals? Planning my life?

Yeah, my ways and my thoughts are much higher than yours (Isaiah 55:11)

Yeah.. I would feel more comfortable if I knew I’d be able to pay off my loans soon.

I knit you together in your mother’s womb. I know when you sit and stand, I know your thoughts (Ps 139)

I know, I love that psalm, but the worries are still there.

Before you even called to me, I answered you (Is 65:24). If I tell you to go, I’m going to provide. (Heb 11:8)

What about my own intelligent plan? It was a good one, everyone thought so.

Why are you more attached to your own plans than to me? Commit your way to me. (Ps 37:5)

Why don’t you just tell me that I’ll be married in a few years and people will think I’m successful?

Your competence is in me (2 Cor. 3:5), you need to trust that I have power to do what I have promised. (Rom 4:21)

But what about my comfort? Are you going to ask me before you wreck my plans?

Oh you have such little faith. Look at the birds in the air and the lilies in the field. Look at how I clothe and feed them! Are you not more valuable to me than they are? (Matt 6:25-34

Ok, I understand.. But I am really tired. I think I’m overworking myself.

My presence will go with you and I will give you rest (Exodus 33: 14)

Not even a nap? I could really use a nap.

Strengthen your feeble hands, steady your knees that give way (Is 35:3), Do not fear, for I am with you. I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. (Is 41:10)

I give up! What do you want me to do so badly that I can’t even take a nap?

I work in you every day to will and to act according to my good purpose. (Phil 2:13).

What purpose?

To spend yourself on behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed. (Is. 58:10)

Well goodness, that’s really concrete. And did I mention.. Huge!

So am I. I fixed limits for the seas, I tell the dawn its place, I disperse the lightning and father the rain. (Job 38).

Hello! I am so tiny compared to that

But I am not. If you have faith, you can say to this mountain to throw itself into the sea, and it’ll happen. (Mt. 21:21)

Do you really think I’m ready for that?

Your treasure is me, and you are a clay jar, moldable and breakable, to show that the power you hold is not your own, but mine. (2 Cor. 4:7) I created you for dependence on me.

You know how much I like my independence..

I saved you with my grace for a purpose because I created you and I created works in advance for you to do. (Eph. 2:8-10). You are not your own, you were bought with a price. (1 Cor. 6:19)

…

I love you, but sometimes, you are really selfish.

I want to follow you with my entire heart, without deviation. Give me an overflowing joy, a realization of what you’ve done for me, and make me someone who serves you willingly, without excuse.. (Ps 51: 10,12)

We have a lot of work to do.

That’s what I was afraid of..

Sarah

She lives in the campement down the road from Ecole Baptiste, our program’s homebase, and cooks us yummy meals. One of my responsibilities has been to oversee the kitchen and make sure we have food to eat. Sarah is the chief of the kitchen, and it has been a joy to work alongside her. She is a comedian, a mother, a wife, a head chef, an actress, and a singer.

She is married to a man named Benjamin, and has become the mother of his children. They are not hers, however. Her best friend was his first wife, but she passed away. When Sarah saw that he was struggling with his 7 kids, she offered to become their mother and his wife.

Before that, she was part of a traveling singing and theater group in Mali. She has taught me a few of the songs, in Bombara, that she learned during those days. Often, while cooking together or organizing tupperware, she’ll teach me, line by line, songs that talk about God’s love and joy. She makes me laugh so hard - everyone calls her a comedian. Most of the time, it starts when she makes fun of me and I do the same to her. Before you know it, we’re both laughing so hard. The other day, I decided to make coconut milk. That in itself was bizarre to her - but she considered it to be one of my strange American things. Then she watched as I put my left pointer finger in to check the consistency, and she said “Stephanie, si quelqu’un te voit quand tu fais ca, il ne va pas le manger,” (if someone sees you do that, he won’t eat it.)

On Friday, she described to me how you eat baked potatoes, in Dioula, a language she’s been trying to teach me, at my request. I stared at her. She hadn’t taught me those terms yet. She has taught me simple things, like “E bay soh moh goh foh”, which means “greet your family”, a common thing people say when telling someone goodbye. There is one sound that I simply cannot pronounce. It sounds like “Gba”, but there is a very forceful tone behind the “B” which I have yet to master. Every time I try, she’s practically rolling on the floor laughing.

I worked alongside her one morning, making peanut butter cookies, as she made peanut sauce. She explained to me in detail how to make the sauce, and then showed me how to properly mix and roll the cookies. When I told her that I thought I’d done a good job, she said that I had not. It was her job to teach me so I could make them properly for my future husband, who she is eager to find for me.

In August, when I was baptized in the stream behind Ecole Baptiste, it was her who led us in songs. I remember her singing, “I have decided to follow Jesus,” (J’ai decide a suivre Jesus). Sarah is an amazing person. Our friendship is something you don’t find every day. Even cross-culturally, I can say that she is a true “soul” sister, someone I was meant to know and to love. Maybe it’s because of our adventurous spirits or our mutual love for laughter. I respect her for the decisions she’s made in her life and the whole hearted spirit that she’s embraced them with. And every time I see her, I thank Jesus for putting her in my life.

These pictures describe our relationship well

The Baptism

Sarah, on the right, leading us in song

Fall in Bouake

Thanksgiving

Play day wth Songimay

Painting class at Centre Providence

What if our world's leaders were truly selfless?

If, for a US college student to go to Canada for a leadership conference, it meant taking an over filled bus, leaving 5 hours late because the company was unreliable, and sleeping overnight at the border because you arrived at 6:30, half an hour after it closed (it opens again at 6 am), do you know anyone who would make the journey? I’m not sure I do. But I know 4 Ivorian students who did, to go to Accra, Ghana. I had the opportunity of going with them.

In the US, 1 in 3,700 women die in childbirth. In Africa, 1 in 16 women die in childbirth. Half the children I know quit school at the age of 8 or 9 because their parents needed them for housework or selling food, clothes, or themselves on the streets. The University in Bouake hasn’t been running for 5 years because of the war. Right now, because several professors live in Abidjan, when one comes to Bouake they have classes for a few days, then not again for several weeks. The inequalities in health care and schooling are far greater than we can wrap our minds around. What would Africa look like with Godly leadership?

There’s an organization called the HuD group (www.leadershiphuddles.org), a not-for-profit movement, which started in Ghana, with a man named Dr. Yaw Perby. Currently living in Montreal, he runs training sessions for young people in several countries, with a mission to, “engage hearts, enlighten heads and empower hands of Emerging Leaders for global impact and God’s glory”.

”You can’t tell me that you love your people so much that you’re willing to kill them,” yelled Dr. Perby, emphatically, to a room full of students from Cote d‘Ivoire, Ghana, Liberia, Sierra Leone, and Benin. In Sierra Leone, innocent people were asked, “do you want long or short sleeves?” That meant, where should I cut your arm off? In Cote d’Ivoire, rebel factions threw bombs into church courtyards, to try and rile the people against Allasane, a Muslim, when Gbagbo (a said Christian) refused to leave office. 3,000 people died because one man had too much greed. Africa needs leaders who will give their lives for their people. This continent’s issues often feel like Goliath, and the youth are as small as David. But Jeremiah, Jesus, and Samuel all heard from God when they were young. Contrary to the popular belief here in Africa, life doesn’t start at 40. A girl from Sierra Leone, Christiana, stood up at the end with tears in her eyes and said, “we don’t need leaders for tomorrow, we need them today!”

With statistics like, “it takes 10,000 hours of practice to become a genius”, and the Beatles played 1200 times before they got big, the crowd was charged to start early, walking in Godly principles, and seeking God’s purpose for them in their countries. For, “it is good for a man to bear the yoke while he is young,” Lamentations 3:27.

“The kings of the gentiles lord it over tem; and those who exercise authority over them call themselves benefactors. But you are not to be like that. Instead, the greatest among you shall be like the youngest, and the one who rules like the one who serves,“ Luke 22:31.

Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday of this past week, I sat in a guest house at the University of Ghana, with a small group of students from Cote d’Ivoire, Sierra Leone, Liberia, Ghana, and Benin, plowing through workbooks and sharing our own experiences. One of the Liberians, Sartu Doe, told me that his family stayed through the entire war. In fact, at the age of 12, he saw his own father shot before his own eyes. Yet, he came all the way to Ghana because he believes that he can be part of turning his own country around. Are you getting this???

For once, I understood everything (because they speak English in Ghana), and I often translated for my friends from RCI, assuring them that I knew their struggles, first hand. I understand better now why Jesus often answered questions in parables. I found myself translating concepts like “bearing fruit” by painting a picture of a grapefruit tree. And everywhere I went, people were encouraged when I told them that I learned this much French in a year. I remember one night, when I was laughing and chatting with Mai before bed. One of the Ghanaian leaders came in and said “Stephanie, you’ve only spoken French for a year? That’s amazing.” My friend Timothee told me that he was proud to be my friend.

But perhaps the greatest joy for me of this trip, was to hear my Ivorian friends introduce me as American by nationality, but Ivorian at heart.

Timothee later told me that he said this because he saw me share in this experience with them, awful bus trip and all, accepting everything as it came. Then, the last night, we all shared about our countries conflicts over the past year. My team talked about our recent civil war: the numbers who died, people in Abidjan who were trapped in their houses with 2 loaves of bread and a sardine can, and the frustrating paralysis that students faced - unable to do anything to stop it. Then someone turned to me and asked how I saw it. And with surprise, I realized that I had been in the country during the conflict, I had experienced the frustrations of a society whose banks were closed for 3 months and people had no motivation to work. But knowing my Ivorian friends and family like Timothee, Mai, Pierre, and Tenan reminded me that, despite what the news portrayed, life went on as normal. And today, I want to see this country rebuilt as much as they do

If you would have told me, back in October of 2010, that I’d be traveling to Ghana with 4 Ivorians a year later, I would have laughed. But with God, all things are possible.

We know, “He is able to do immeasurably more than we all ask or imagine, according to his power, that is at work within us,” (Ephesians 3:20). So, “Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful,” (Hebrews 10:23). So that others will say of our lives, “(Steph), a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle and set apart for the gospel of God - the gospel he promised beforehand through his prophets in the Holy Scriptures regarding his Son,” (Romans 1:1-3).

Pictures from are Ghana adventure:

Pierre, Tenan, and I

Timothee, Mai, and I

I like this quote. I think it describes Journey Corps

Gilba (Sierra Leone) and a Ghanaian sister

Youth Power conference

My Ivorian brothers: Tenan, Timothee and Pierre

and my sister in Christ, Mai

Isaac (Sierra Leone) and Sartu (Liberia)

Pierre (CI) and Isaac (Sierra Leone)

Tenan told me that he was dancing like an American. He was showing me how we're gonna dance at my wedding. He's a riot.

Pierre, Dr. Perby, and Mai

Our training group: Liberia, Ghana, Sierra Leone, and Cote d'Ivoire represent!
Sneak peak - next blog: fall in Bouake

Two Different Worlds

Have you seen the movie “Night and Day”? The past week of my life has felt a little like that. Except, instead of sedatives, I’ve had doses of Paris, huge metropolitan supermarkets, plane travel, airport security, lack of sleep, and an all night veille in an Ivorian village. Is your head spinning yet?

Last Monday morning, I was wondering around Paris. I went to an art gallery for the first time in a year - l’Orangerie, to see Monet’s water lilies. That night, I babysat 3 adorable, bi-lingual boys whose parents (Jonathan and Karen Finley) are missionaries with WorldVenture in Lognes, just outside of Paris. Tuesday morning, I went to a huge supermarket (like a super walmart) with Karen. It was a holiday and full of people. We turned a corner and found a traffic jam of bright red shopping carts. As I followed her, weaving through moving buggies, she asked if it was a little like the market in Bouaké. Suddenly, in my mind, the carts turned to motorcycles, cows, sheep and Djoula women selling vegetables, soap, snails, pagnes, sugar, and plantains. I laughed, realizing it was a lot like the Koko market that I often walked through on my way home from church. Only much less dusty and with a lot more choices. That night, I went to H&M, one of my favorite stores in the US. All I wanted were a few t-shirts, but somehow it took me an hour to pick them out. It was pretty overwhelming.

Two days later, I was in Dabakala, a small town Northeast of Bouake, at an all-night funeral for one of the first pastors in the Baptist church of Cote d’Ivoire. Suddenly, I found myself trying to convince a little boy, who most likely didn’t speak French or English, to keep his shoes and pants on, in the middle of a dusty village, with people dressed in pagnes and bright white dresses rushing around to prepare for the burial. I later walked past to see his pants and shoes on the ground. He either didn’t take my advice or didn’t understand my French. Around 8 am on the 2^nd day, after a few hours of sleep and no coffee, I found myself sitting on a little wooden stool, washing spoons and plates in large basins of water, in the middle of a chaotic village courtyard. Women who only spoke Djimeni were passing me rinsed plates, and I washed them with a fish net sponge and a large, round cake of soap. The funny thing is, this setting is more normal to me now than the supermarkets and shopping malls in France. For lunch, we were invited to the mayor’s house to eat. There I was, sitting under a canopy of trees in front of a mansion, eating salad. Their bathroom had toilet paper and a bathtub. Had I somehow woken up back in France again?

In Bouaké, yesterday morning (Sunday), I walked into the church courtyard to see the monitors and kids standing in a circle, singing and dancing. Everyone greeted me with “bon arrive!” as I joined them. In the afternoon, I biked across town to visit my host family. I hadn’t seen my host mom and little brother in over a month. I remember the smile on my host dad’s face when I walked in the door - huge and welcoming, happy that I was home again. It was Tabaski, a major Muslim holiday. I visited my Muslim neighbor, Coulibaly, to say “bon fête” and they tried to get me to stay longer to eat some grilled lamb. When I saw my friend Mami there, she attacked me with a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. Finally, I stopped feeling like I was in some sort of hazy dream state. I biked home thinking, “this is why I am here.”

Here are some pictures to better describe this culture shock:

Paris

Heidi, CJ, n I

Lyss's face is priceless

Kati and I

Dabakala. Friday night, the beginning.

They asked to take our picture. I said, "only if I can take yours."

All the grandchildren dancing around the casket

Dishwashing Saturday morning

How many Ivorian women can one wagon carry?