Category: Other Page 60 of 181

Africa Needs a Whole Lot Less of Joel and a Whole Lot More of Rick

Two very different people who call themselves Christians have gotten a lot of media time recently.

One is Victoria Osteen, wife of Joel, who recently told her audience, “when we obey God, we’re not doing it for God…we’re doing it for ourselves.  Do good for your own self.  Do it because God wants you to be happy.  When you come to church, when you worship Him, you’re not doing it for God, really–you’re doing it for yourself, because that’s what makes God happy.”

And then there’s Rick Sacra.

I’ve known Rick and Debbie Sacra since the 80’s, while I was growing up on the ELWA compound in Liberia.  Debbie Sacra was my sixth grade English and History teacher.

They’ve been committed to Liberia ever since then, even through 15 years of devastating civil war and the war-torn country that limped back to life afterwards.

Dr. Sacra had planned to return to Liberia at the end of August. When he found out that Dr. Brantly had contracted Ebola, he did not cancel his trip.

He did not even postpone his trip.

He actually moved up his departure date to get to Liberia sooner.

He knowingly and consciously made the decision to walk into a situation where well over 50% of people are dying from a horrible virus.

So Victoria Osteen, what do you have to say about that?

That Dr. Sacra is obeying God for himself?  That contracting a deadly disease and possibly leaving his wife a widow and his children fatherless would make him happy?  That he literally and completely chose to lay down his very life….for himself???

As Bill Cosby says, That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard in my life!  Totally agree.

Of course, when you go home to a 10 million dollar mansion, instead of a war-torn, poverty stricken country with a deadly epidemic raging through it, it’s difficult to understand what “obedience” she is even talking about.

The experts say that this epidemic is getting worse, not better, and that over 20,000 people will probably be infected before it’s over.  All of Africa is on high alert.  ReachGlobal’s All-Africa conference in Tanzania was recently cancelled–even though there’s no Ebola here…..yet.  This is serious stuff, folks.

And we are forced to ask ourselves The Question.  What do we do if it comes here?

I don’t know the answer to that question.  But I do know that I want to follow Rick Sacra’s example, not Victoria Osteen’s.  God has called me to deny myself, pick up my cross, and follow Him.

Deny myself.  Not “do it for myself.”

Does God want me to be happy?  He wants me to be holy.  And He knows, and has taught me, that happiness is found at the very moment when I put myself aside, and fix my eyes on Him.

Unfortunately, the Osteen’s toxic brand of “Christianity” has been exported to Africa, where it is found everywhere.

We need a whole lot less of them out here, and a whole lot more Rick Sacras.

This Is Why We Are Here

Last week, the class was on Marriage and Family.

And I sat in the back and listened while our partners and my husband stood in front of these amazing men and women, Tanzanian church leaders who are hungry for God’s Word.  And they discussed and argued and wrestled together and learned from each other as they looked at Scripture and compared it to culture.

Does a man own his wife?

Is there room in Scripture for a bride price?

Is the wife’s submission in Scripture the same as the wife’s obedience in African culture?

What does it mean to love your wife?

How does a man lead his children and yet love them?

And so, so, so much more.

I learned so much from listening to them wrestle.  I am humbled by their desire to let God’s Word transform culture, and I wonder if I always am willing to do the same.

But my favorite part was when Gil stood tall and told them that he would have married me even if he had known ahead of time that I would not bear him children.  Since, in Africa, infertility is usually grounds for divorce.  And then we both shared from the depths of our heart about adoption, and how there are 3 million orphans in Tanzania and only a couple dozen that get adopted each year.  And we shared our vision for the Tanzanian church to take the lead in embracing infertile couples and adoption and orphan care.

It was the one time all week that they spontaneously started applauding.

Yes.  This is why we are here.

The Dark Side

As soon as we left the stadium, I was on edge.

We had been to games there before, but this time felt different.  The game had started late so it was dark when we left.  There were a lot of people, and 90% of them were men.  We had gotten separated from our friends, so it was just our family and a teenager we had brought with us.

Gil felt uneasy too, and he insisted that we keep close together and walk very quickly.  Poor Lily was running to keep up.

Just as we existed the stadium, we saw a commotion ahead of us.  People yelling, flailing, running, pushing.   A woman in the street, crying.  She had just been robbed.  Police hitting someone.

Gil immediately started pulling us away from the commotion and towards a wall, and I helped in pushing the children towards him.  That’s when I felt it–two hands feeling my pockets.  I yelled, but before I could do anything, a hand grabbed my purse and yanked.  The strap broke, and he was gone.

Gil and I both kicked it into high gear, grabbed the kids, and raced for our car.  Lily peed her pants, but thankfully, we were all okay.  Josiah asked a million questions on the way home [“Where do robbers go in the daytime?], we answered them, and life went on.

I was left with this friction burn where the guy yanked my purse strap.  But other than that, no harm done.

I’ve been trying to give you realistic glimpses of our Tanzanian life, and it’s been hard to think of how to write about this part of our lives.

Because the truth is, this wasn’t an isolated incident.  This is our reality.  Part of the reason this didn’t totally traumatize me is because I was partially expecting it.  I only had the bare necessities in my purse that day–some money and sunglasses–because I knew that it was likely something like this would happen.  

I can’t even list all the things like this that have happened to us during our years here–the times our car was broken into, the time Gil’s phone was stolen, the time it was almost stolen.  And really, our experiences are nothing compared to our friends.  Like the two dozen families we know who have had invasion robberies in the middle of the night–the friend who had his head hit with a machete, the other friend who was stabbed, the other friend who was shot at.  These aren’t just people we have heard of or seen on the news–these are friends.

Our house has bars on every window.

And our front and back doors have metal grates.

Every evening, this is my routine:

Turn on security lights.

Make sure car is locked.

Lock front grate.

Lock and bolt front door.

Lock and padlock back grate.

Lock back door.

Lock laundry room door.

Bolt kitchen door.

Bolt door to garage.

Lock and bolt hallway door.

Set motion sensor alarm.

It’s a good thing our house is made of concrete, because we would be in trouble in a fire!

But it’s our reality.  When I walk on the road, I make sure I hold my purse in my hand, and not on my shoulder.  Too many friends have been hurt by drive-by purse snatchings when the thief has pulled them down in the process.  When I go to the ATM, I am always on edge.  When walking to my car, I hold my keys in my hand, in case my purse gets snatched.

This is life here.  It happens all the time.  The U.S. Embassy in Tanzania often sends out safety messages about avoiding particular places or situations.  We laugh, because sometimes their “warnings” are so comprehensive that if we took their advice, we couldn’t go anywhere or do anything.

Before we came here, we tried to buy life insurance.  No one–absolutely no one–would give it to us, even though I wouldn’t consider this country to be in the “high risk” category.  We’re not in Somalia, for heaven’s sake.

Have I just gotten used to it over time?  Maybe.  Am I doing better at trusting God?  I hope so.  I do still worry too much–but I did that in America too.  There’s always stuff to worry about, even if you live in a padded house.

Is living here an unnecessary risk?

I guess that depends on how you look at it.

He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep,

to gain what he cannot lose.



You keep him in perfect peace

whose mind is stayed on you,

because he trusts in you.

I guess I’ve decided to just choose Trust.  Every day, again.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Some things are the same.  

The huge crowds.  

The excitement in the air.  

The noise makers.  

However, this particular kind of ball game probably wouldn’t attract the same kind of crowds in America.  Even with the “Real Madrid Legends” as the visiting team.  (If you don’t understand the significance of this, I won’t try to explain it to you.  Just trust me when I say it’s a big deal).

Even the President of Tanzania was in attendance.

No nachos or hot dogs sold at this game.  But candy, peanuts, samosas, and ice cream were plentiful.  Maybe the snack sellers at Dodger Stadium could learn a few tricks from these guys.

Another thing that’s the same?  I only go for the company.

I love her.

And Grace loves her girl.

Though we went as a family, ball games are not family events here.  The crowd was probably 90-95% men.  Very few women, and even fewer children.  When we go, we definitely stand out.  Once, we even got our picture in the newspaper the next day.  

It was fun, even though Tanzania lost.  

That is, it was fun until after the game.  But that incident is part of a bigger topic, so I will save that for the next post.  

Welcome to Our School

So this is how you know that your child’s uniform shirts were not manufactured in or for America: 

Doesn’t even bother with “Tumble Dry Low.”  

Lily’s kindergarten teacher is Tanzanian.

Josiah’s first grade teacher is American.

Grace’s third grade teacher is British.

And she is totally back in her element.  

And I am in my happy place.  

It was strange being “just a parent” on the first day of school, after 10 years of ministry there.  My responsibilities included getting a good breakfast into my kids, making sure they didn’t forget their water bottles, and meeting new parents.  My name is no longer on a box in the staff room, I had no photo-copies to make, and Gil was not speaking on the first-day assembly, like he did for 8 years.  I came home to a quiet house and had a Swahili lesson and then went to a meeting with our new partners in ministry.  It felt weird.

But I can’t tell you how grateful I am that we still get to be a part of Haven of Peace Academy, that my kids get to attend here and learn from all of these amazing people.  The very existence of this school enhances our new ministry in every way.  

And if you haven’t watched this video yet, please do!  Not only does it give a great picture of HOPAC, it also features Mark (our new co-worker) and our new ministry training Tanzanian church leaders.  (And it’s only four minutes long!)

Page 60 of 181

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén

Verified by MonsterInsights