Category: Other Page 24 of 181

In Defense of Second-Class Missionaries

By

On April 5, 2017

In Other

I posted at A Life Overseas today, and this time I revised an essay I wrote on this blog two years ago.  It’s a topic that is near and dear to my heart, and I wanted it to reach a broader audience.

It must have hit a nerve, because six hours later, it’s already been shared 150 times.  

Many of your missionary friends are aching for you to read and understand this.  Even if you read my original post two years ago, please read this new one today.  It’s that important.

As I write today, a thought that is forefront on my mind is Haven of Peace Academy’s need for teachers for next school year.  We are at the point of feeling desperate (yet knowing–and remembering to believe–that this is God’s school and we can trust Him.)  I am deeply passionate about the important and very strategic ministry at HOPAC, and I want to shout, “Why is it so hard for us to find teachers?  And once we find them, why is it so hard for them to find support?”  How can I help churches back at home get this?

Maybe reading this today will help give you a different perspective.  I hope so.

In Defense of Second-Class Missionaries

Imagine what it would look like if western churches
hired their staff with the same priorities that they choose overseas missionaries
to financially support.

First of all, a Children’s Pastor would
definitely be out.  Not strategic enough; he’s only supporting the
children of believers.  Youth Pastor?  Also out, unless he
targets neighborhood kids.

How about a Music Pastor?  Or Pastoral
Counselor?  Nope.  Those are just support roles.  Not enough
front-line ministry.

Administrative Pastor?  Receptionist?  Good heavens.
 We could never dream of paying someone for those kind of inconsequential jobs. 

How about a Preaching Pastor?
 Well…..that’s if-y, but he probably doesn’t make the cut either.
 After all, he’s only feeding the Body.  Most of the time, he’s not
actually reaching the lost. 

So that pretty much leaves only the positions of Community
Outreach Pastor or Evangelist.  Yet how many churches
even have those paid positions? 

I’m not suggesting that churches go about firing
two-thirds of their staff.  I just want to talk about a double-standard I
often see.

Let me introduce you
to the class system among missionaries. 

Who is on the A-List?  Well, that would be
the Church Planters.  Among unreached people groups gives you A+ status.
 Pastoral Trainers and Bible Translators might be able to
squeak by with an A.

The B-List?  Doctors and other health workers,
community development and poverty alleviation workers, ESL teachers.

The C-List?  Administrators, missionary
member care, MK teachers, or anyone else considered “support.”

Whatever tends to be the current hot-topic
in “justice ministry” also often ends up on the A-List.  These days, that’s fighting human
trafficking.  It used to be orphan
ministry, but that’s pretty much been relegated to B-status now.  It’s cool, but not that cool. 

Granted, this class system doesn’t usually
originate with the missionaries themselves, but it’s come out of the culture of
missions in their home countries.  How
many missionaries have sat before missions committees back home who examined if
they fit into their “grid” of priorities? 
And often that grid looks exactly like the hierarchy I just outlined.

My husband and I worked for eight years in TCK
ministry at an international school. 
When trying to raise support, we called and sent information packets to
over 200 churches in California.  We heard back from two.  Churches
told us, over and over again, Sorry, but that ministry doesn’t fit into
our strategy.  

That all changed when we transitioned to theological
training of East African pastors.  Finally, we had churches calling us.
 It was nice.  But frankly, kind of frustrating.  We didn’t change
ministries so that we would become more popular with churches.  We
switched because that’s where God was leading us.  But the truth is, we
don’t consider theological training to be any more strategic, or any more exciting,
than what we were doing at that international school. 

Unfortunately, the missionaries themselves are often acutely aware of this
hierarchy, and it makes many feel like they are second-class. 



Read the rest here.  (And then share it!)

Medina Life, January through March, 2017

By

On April 1, 2017

In Other

Carley has been my friend since forever (pretty much).  I even went to her wedding a few years ago.  And seven months ago, she gave birth to quadruplets. So now she and her babies are celebrities.  Our entire community is celebrating the miracle of these very healthy, very precious babies.
Grace had Roman Day in fifth grade, and so of course her Daddy made her an amazing Athena goddess costume.  Of course.  
Our church’s small group visited an orphanage one Sunday, to play with the kids and bring a whole load of supplies.  I’m not usually a big fan of these kind of one-off events, but when the local church steps up to help take care of orphans, that’s certainly heading in the right direction.  

Pretty cool to see the men from our church get down and play with the kids.
My girls with some of the stuff our group brought.  Visiting an orphanage is hard, but good, for my kids.  For me, it’s just hard.  
Lucy and I have been meeting for almost three years now to work on Kiswahili.  That’s ending because when we come back, I’ll be working full time.  She had matching dresses made for us.  And I am so thankful for her friendship.
Josiah as Aragorn for Book Week at HOPAC
Service Emphasis Week:  When all HOPAC kids go out and serve each day.  Lily’s class went to a local school.
One of my very favorite aspects of Service Emphasis Week is that the older HOPAC students lead and set the example for the younger ones.  So not only do my kids get to interact with kids from a different school, but they get to be influenced by the wonderful “big” kids at HOPAC.

Grace’s U11 basketball team (coached by her awesome Dad!) had an undefeated season, and got silver medals in their tournament.  
Celebrating their great season.
Reach Tanzania’s new cohort of students for 2017!
In assembly yesterday, Grace’s teacher presented her with her fifth grade promotion certificate, since she will miss the ceremony in June.  

Four years ago, I was one of the people whispering in Karen’s ear that she needed to apply to be primary (elementary) principal.  Four years later, she was encouraging me to apply.  I’ve spent much of the last month with her, as she has passed on to me everything she knows about the job.  She leaves me big shoes to fill.  She has been a wonderful principal and a great friend.  Here we are standing in front of the office that will be mine in August.  

That’s a Whole Lot of Thoughts

By

On March 25, 2017

In Other

Johnny’s recent airplane picture.  I am the pilot (so he tells me).

These are the days my mind is in many places and many times.

Thinking about here:  How do I prepare my house to be empty for four months?  Buying lots of dog food, going through piles of papers I had put off.  How do I make sure our workers get paid?  What does the landlord need to know?  What clothes can we give away before we leave?  Making sure the kids are caught up on vaccinations and doctor’s appointments.  How can I use up everything in my pantry?

Kids:  Mom, the ketchup is finished!

Me:  Too bad.  We’re leaving in a week and I am not buying any more ketchup.  Eat your eggs plain.

Thinking about life when we return:  I will hit the ground running when I come back on August 4th.  What can I learn from the current principal before I go?  I’ve been shadowing her, asking hundreds of questions, talking to all the current teachers.  I am stuffing my brain with schedules and facts and feelings that others are giving me.

Everything will change when we come back.  Johnny will be in kindergarten.  I will be a working mom.  What can I teach my houseworker before I go?  What new responsibilities will I ask of her?  We cleaned out the kids’ toy room and easily boxed up half of their things to give away.  They don’t play with many toys any more, and Johnny will no longer be home.  For the first time in 10 years, I won’t have a pre-schooler with me all day.  I gave away Candyland and the alphabet practice books.  I once yearned for the end of those days, and now that they are here, I am sad.

Thinking about preparations to leave:  Getting school materials from all the kids’ teachers so that I can homeschool them for their third term.  Writing to churches and scheduling visits for when we are in the States.  Working through our home assignment budget with our business manager.  Communicating with a friend back at home who will make us a video of our ministry to show to everyone.  Buying gifts to take back to friends.  Renewing the car insurance.  Making an appointment to get the girls’ hair done.

Josiah:  I’m really excited about going to America, but I’m also really sad.  I’m going to miss my friends.

Welcome to the world of bittersweet emotions, kid.  You’re learning it young.

Grace is sad she will miss Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat and her 5th Grade Graduation at HOPAC.  Josiah is sad he’ll miss Sports Day and the 5K run.  But simultaneously, they both are counting down the days and announce it every evening.  They are educating Johnny about Chuck E. Cheese and garage door openers.  Last week, we received a package with the Christmas cards from our home church.  We reminded the kids, See?  You know this person!  Do you remember playing with her?

Last week I told the kids to put their shoes on at dinner time because a lightbulb had shattered in the dining room.  They all commented on how weird it was to wear shoes at dinner.

Me:  In America, a lot of people keep their shoes on in the house.  If you visit someone else’s house, you keep on your shoes.

Josiah:  REALLY?  Like, what if your shoes are all muddy?

Grace:  They have these things called sidewalks in America.  Your shoes don’t get muddy.

Dad:  There is no dirt in America.

Me:  There are no cats in America.

*cue family singing while Johnny looks on blankly*  I guess we need to show him “An American Tale.”  

Thinking about the journey:  Of course, this part should have been routine, and then last week America decided that it didn’t want people who are flying through the Middle East to carry their electronics on the plane.  So where are we flying through?  The Middle East.  Thanks, America.  My brain didn’t have enough to think about already.  Yeah, going back to the Dark Ages of Children-Before-Ipads is one thing, but honestly, making sure our valuable electronics get to the States unbroken and unstolen is a much bigger worry.

Thinking about there:  Dreaming about salami and sourdough bread and good yogurt and nectarines.  Planning vacations with our families.  Emailing with friends who want to see us (one who will travel all the way from Wisconsin!).  Anticipating hugs and conversations and nostalgia.  Daily adding to my list of things I will need to buy in America.

We are so excited to see all those we love deeply, yet I know acutely that the joy will also be a poignant reminder of the loss.  My six-month old niece is now three years old.  My own 5-year-old is now eight.  There will be the three nephews we have not yet met.  Joy, but sorrow, because we can’t get those years back.

It’s funny though, that in spite of all the looming change and mixed emotions and scattered thoughts, there is now something new in my brain:  Familiarity.  I have done this so many times now that even the craziness seems routine.  I can fit my emotions into predictable categories:  Yes, I feel this now, but I know it won’t last.  I know I will even out.  I know it will be okay.  I know there will be stress and culture shock and joy and sorrow and frustration, but I know it.  None of it surprises me anymore.   And there is something deeply comforting about that.

My Children Are Not Missionaries

By

On March 18, 2017

In Other

We recently bought plane tickets for six for our upcoming home assignment. (We leave in two weeks!)  If we had wanted our kids’ tickets to be tax deductible, we had to prove to the IRS that they would be participating in our “work” while in the States.  Namely, that they would be a important part of our presentations.  Which means that we would pretty much parade them around and have them sing or recite facts any time we talked about Tanzania.

We decided to just pay the tax on their tickets.

Because Gil and I are the missionaries.  Our kids are not.

Our kids are already growing up with a pretty convoluted picture of America.  They are Tanzanian by blood and by birth, but are growing up with American parents…while still in Tanzania.  It’s already pretty confusing, so if we bring them to America and parade them around like shiny ponies, that doesn’t help anything.

Home assignment can be really hard on kids.  It usually consists of lots of travel, lots of new people, lots of different beds, and lots of attention.  It’s definitely not “normal” life.  And it will continue to get harder on my kids as they get older.  It’s not so difficult for a four-year-old to visit a new church and make friends instantly.  It’s a lot harder on a nine or eleven-year-old.  And we’ll be visiting at least five different churches and innumerable small groups.

Gil and I are called to be missionaries.  We want our kids to just be kids.  So when we’re in the States, we’re going to try hard not to put pressure on them to perform.  They most likely won’t participate in our presentations (maybe Grace will, since she loves that sort of thing).  Sometimes they might choose to stay home with Grandma instead of attending a meeting with us, and that will be okay.  We know everyone loves our kids and might be disappointed if they are not always with us, but that’s just how it might have to be.

And honestly, we all will need your grace.  Our kids are not perfect.  One of them has significant struggles in controlling emotions.  Another clams up and gets stubborn when in new or overwhelming situations.  And considering that they all will be adapting to so many new places, with very little schedule and often inconsistent bedtimes, they are not always going to be at their best.

But if you know our family, you can help.

When you see our kids, yes, please greet them and welcome them and make them feel comfortable.  But keep in mind that even though thousands of people in California know them, they only remember a handful.  They probably don’t remember you.  And some of our kids might start getting really uneasy around the constant stream of strangers who want to hug them.  It’s hard for me to predict.  They are different people than they were three years ago, so I’m not sure how they will respond this time.

So tell them your name.  Tell them how you know us.  And ask them some questions.  But please, ask the same kinds of questions you would ask any other kid.  You know, like, What’s your favorite color? or Do you have a pet?  or What’s your favorite book or sport?  

Try not to ask them questions that will force them make judgments about where they live.  For example, avoid asking them if they like America or Tanzania better.  Or what they like best about living in Tanzania.  Or any questions that make them compare the two countries.  First of all, they simply don’t have the maturity or experience yet to even know how to answer those questions.  And second, I try not to have them think about which place is best.  They both are best; they are just different.  And they are still figuring out what those differences are.

You can ask me those questions all day; I won’t mind.  But my kids just aren’t ready to do that kind of processing.  I mean, if I asked your children, What do you like about living in America?  They would probably just look at me blankly and reply, Uhhh….I like my puppy.  



Of course, if you are talking to my kids, or introducing them to a Sunday School Class, it’s great to acknowledge that they are from Tanzania, because it’s obviously a part of who they are.  But don’t expect them to tell you about our ministry.  They are not the missionaries.  What they need most is to be treated like any other visitor, instead of put on display as some sort of special attraction.

Gil and I understand that being put on display while we are in the States is part of our job.  It comes with the territory.  But my kids….I just want them to figure out what it’s like to be a normal American kid.  After all, one day, that’s an identity they will need to understand.

Far More Than I Imagined

By

On March 11, 2017

In Other

2015 was a tough year.

Our ministry was struggling as we tried to recruit students.  Gil hurt his knee and had to stay away from sports for nine months (at the time, we thought it would be forever), which was a huge loss in his life.  Gil spent most of his days in front of a computer, writing curriculum for our training program.  It was a very, very quiet life, completely different from our previously vibrant ministry at Haven of Peace Academy (HOPAC).

And I could not find my place.

For 10 years, Gil and I had served at HOPAC.  I had started out as an elementary school teacher, but when we began our family, I looked for part-time ways to serve.  Yet HOPAC was still my entire life:  My community, my ministry, the place where my children felt most at home.  I assisted Gil in his ministry as chaplain, but my love of education got me involved in a wide variety of other programs, from coordinating after-school activities to strategic planning committees.  For the most part, those were golden years.

My sixth grade class, 2003

We left that ministry in 2013 and I had determined in my heart to move on.  I had deeply loved HOPAC, but I was also passionate about Gil’s new calling into pastoral training.  Our kids would still be attending the school, so I planned to be involved only as a parent.  Since we returned to Tanzania in 2014, I have been a board member and a parent classroom volunteer.  That’s all.  Only stuff that parents would do.

I was surprised by how deeply I grieved the loss of HOPAC in my life.  A big part of that was because I simply couldn’t find a place in our new ministry.  I willingly worked on the administrative and recruiting tasks at hand, and I absolutely adore our partners in this ministry.  Mark and Alyssa are some of our very best friends.

But I was incredibly restless.  The struggles of our ministry multiplied in my heart. (Of course, the difficulties didn’t last forever and the ministry is now thriving.)  But at the time, I wondered if we should even be in Tanzania.  I wondered if I wanted to be here.  Ironically, though he was discouraged at times, Gil never struggled like I did.  He knew his place and his calling, so working through the challenges were not a problem for him.  Knowing that I am a teacher, Alyssa kept trying to convince me to teach in the training program.  But I have never had a desire to theologically train adults.  My heart just wouldn’t be in it.

We brought home Johnny in there, so that was an enormous joy, and took up a lot of my time.  But I knew that I only had another year or so before Johnny would start school.  A new season of life was looming before me, and I had no direction.

I diligently studied Swahili during that time, hoping that would open up more ministry options for me.  But as much as I prayed that God would show me what the next steps would be in my life, there was nothing.

In early 2016–almost exactly a year ago, the thought made its way up into my heart:  Why not go back to HOPAC?  It was a thought I had pushed away for two years, because I had closed the door on that chapter of my life and I figured it was slammed shut.  I thought I was supposed to move on from HOPAC, and I was deliberately doing that.

But I eventually asked myself:  Why am I fighting this so much?  I am a trained elementary school teacher.  Education is what I love.  It’s what I’m good at.  HOPAC is my favorite school in the world, and I am passionate about its mission and vision.  And they need me.

So it was a year ago that I made the decision that in August of 2017, I would go back on staff at HOPAC.  It was amazing how freeing that decision was, how my outlook on life completely changed.   It was still a year and a half away, but the thought of going back to HOPAC made my heart sing.

I figured I would teach elementary school, or maybe middle school English.  There were always needs, so it wouldn’t be hard to find a place for me to teach.  But in September, all my expectations were tipped upside down when the (very loved) elementary school principal announced that her family would be leaving at the end of this school year.

And suddenly, I had all these friends whisper in my ear:  Amy, you need to apply to be principal!  

Of course, I was immediately intimidated by the thought, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  I had played with the idea of administration before, but I figured that was still a long ways away.  Yet I remembered all the various times when I was able to have a part in decision-making at HOPAC.  How much I loved interacting with staff and parents.  How thrilled I had been to work on teams that were making the school better.  How much I loved not just teaching, but the broader picture of education.  And how all of those things would be wrapped up in being a principal at HOPAC.

So I applied.  I went through two interviews with five people.  And about a week ago, I was offered the job.

In three weeks, we leave for the States. In August, I will return to Tanzania and become the elementary school principal at HOPAC.  In the meantime, I am cramming every bit of information I can stuff into my brain about this position.

It will be a huge change for me and for my family.  (Though I’ll probably be able to spend more time with my kids than I do now, since we’ll all be at the same place!)  But I am incredibly excited (and occasionally pretty nervous!) at this opportunity.  Honestly, I can’t think of anything I would rather do than this job at this place with these people.  

So when I think back to 2015, when my tears of discouragement would drip over my dinner cooking on the stove, when I wondered if we should even be here, I stand in awe at what God had in store for me.  It is far more than I ever could have imagined.

this year’s HOPAC staff

Page 24 of 181

Previous

Next

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén

Verified by MonsterInsights