Before the dawn of time and through the dawn of tomorrow

This is about the glorious, protective hand of a providential God. I’ve been hit in a concentrated way with the truth that God is guiding all events of history with the end in sight. This means that all events are purposeful and work together for the good He has preordained. Forgive me for sounding Calvinistic, but when I stand with my personal life smacking me in the face and the scriptures warming my heart with this principle, I cannot argue. I invite you to praise God with me in these three moments in which He shows off His omniscience.

Some of you have received my latest newsletter which shared my Christmas plans (if you didn’t receive it and you would like to, send me a note via this blog site or email: lafnwithjoy@yahoo.com). Unfortunately, I had to cancel my plans to greet my friend’s family in her village because the trip requires 12 more hrs than I expected, and I’d only be able to stay one day. As bummed as I am, I’m grateful for the change of plans because I ended up getting weakened by a sick bug and needed a couple nights of extra rest, which would not have been possible if my original plans had stood. Other issues also raised up which were only taken care of because I had the extra time. The Lord is looking out for me.

But not just me; last night Briska shared how God has protected her twice from possible danger. Remember, Briska is the girl who helps me and Tara, my new housemate, in the house. First she recounted her experience from last year’s crisis after our elections. She woke up the day of the riots with the notion to do her laundry on my compound, so she packed her clothes and headed over. When she reached our gate, the guard clued my oblivious friend of the violence infecting the city between the Muslims and Christians. He directed her eyes to the sky and, lo, it was black with deathly smoke. Since her “neighborhood” has many Muslim families in it, she ended up staying in our compound for the three weeks, escaping the danger that did end up spreading to her area. She packed her laundry, unknowing that God had prompted her to pack for her own rescue mission!

Similarly, there are rumors of imminent danger on Christmas day due to “the Muslims’” plot to attack and send Christians “running with their rice and meat in their hands.” It is hard to verify such things, but it is enough to plant fear in hearts. She prayed for God to give her a place for refuge, thinking of my place, but not wanting to say anything to me before God did. That very same day, I come waltzing up to her, thinking it’d be a nice treat for her to stay at my place while Tara and I are gone (big change from her block of a house), I offer it to her. I love that I had no clue of any rumors or need of hers because God now gets all the glory. What timing! What guiding! Oh, how He cares for each of us and delights in using us for His purposes. What goodness!

For those who are still shaking your head at the perplexing thought of your crazy friend who’s gallivanting around Africa, this is another reminder that God is very present here...and there…in Saudi Arabia, and Iraq, and Nepal, and the Philippines, and China…

There is nothing more appropriate than Psalm 139

“O Lord, you have searched me and hyou know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord. You hem me in –behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee fro your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea [whether I’m in Africa, North America, Europe, in the air, on the road, in the classroom, Asia, the Middle East, the South Pacific], even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast” (1-10)

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I can’t help but tack on a little bit about my teaching experience (enter: my predominate position here). My struggles of inadequacy still come, but by God’s grace, they are not nearly as painful or often as last year (and maybe a year under my belt doesn’t hurt). Still, I wrestle in a daily battle with my weakness which ironically puts up a strong fight. Comfort floods my heart and mind when I remember that I am not blazing a new trail because God has already gone before me, and I’m not alone because He is also by my side—ready to fill my very being. Walking in the strength of the Spirit strangely doesn’t leave one with a sense of empowerment but rather of humble satisfaction. I suppose this is to follow the idea of dying daily, yet being made alive in Christ so that the message we carry in jars of clay will fully glorify Christ alone (2 Corinthians 4:7-12).

Daily Living

I’ve been reminded by many that I’ve slackened on my reports to you all. My reason—although inadequate—is that I’ve been waiting on pictures and stories to give.

Well, over recent conversations, I was reminded of how I detest the romantic view of the missionary life and how I always soured and rolled my eyes at any suggestion that they are the true laborers for Christ. Please! The truth is that we “missionaries” are living lives over here, and according to God’s brilliant orchestrations, life involves contact with other people. Consequently, I have an opportunity to share Christ—one way or another—every day in very much the same ways that you people over “there” do.

Basically what I’m trying to say is that I do not want to be guilty of feeding the idea that life mysteriously becomes exciting, exotic, and supernatural once a believer goes a certain distance from her home. Life got supernatural when she gave it to Christ. Life got exciting when she started living it for Christ.

That said, allow me to briefly chronicle some life stuff these past few months:

1. I successfully tackled an unprecedented feat in my life: I changed a tire on my own…in the rain…in a skirt! Disappointed? Well, I certainly felt a sense of accomplishment. It did have to rain, didn’t it? I suppose that the nervousness of the safety of the general area in which we were stranded added to the excitement though we resumed our trip without consequence.
2. I stalked and chased a herd of zebras and giraffes! No, they weren’t in my backyard. We had to drive a good 4 hours or so to a park reserve and convince the workers at the park to take us on one of their jeeps for the safari. A side note: the park had 4 beautiful Mercedes jeeps to tour with, but they were all out of gas or otherwise inoperable, so we gambled with a partially filled beat-up pick-up. No worries, we’ll manage!


3. I discovered we have access to wheat flour! I’ve never tasted bread so good and satisfying!
Below is a video of a special church service: gotta dance!

http://picasaweb.google.com/kariskronicles/FriendsOverHere#5403638050666912898

4. Road conditions have ceased to surprise me, but I still find humor in them. This road was too deep in swift-moving water still flowing from recent rains. Thankfully, we found another route--driving along the top of the dam. Other unfortunate roads include "freeways" with massive craters, bridges with planks of wood to reinforce on which you must drive or meet doom, and hills so steep and ruts so deep that it's a miracle anyone comes to the top successfully--much less a mac truck!



5. Students are still asking me if I’m secretly married, when I’m getting married, and why I’m not dating the first white man I see here in Nigeria.
6. I’ve seen my teenage self in several of my students who confessed loneliness, concern for their friends, and unexplainable dry seasons. It brings tears to my eyes because I know the right words to say, but there’s still nothing I can do to change the situation. God is God and I am not, and He has a plan I can only speculate about.

7. I’ve been asking for prayer for a girl I tutored last year. Another teacher reported to me that she led this girl to the Lord several weeks ago! I’ve struggled to keep my excitement under control because she has yet to come tell me herself. Continue to pray for her that Satan will lose completely and that she will grow to be a fervent follower of Christ.

8. Pyramid pictures never get old. I'm thankful for such a great community of singles although I don't always express my gratitude. They have kept me from diving completely into lesson plans and school stuff--enabling me to "have a life"


9. We invited some native Teve dancers to perform for us at Hillcrest for our Multicultural day. I tried to capture the way they twist and snake their body to the drums and flute-like instrument. Amazing and beautiful!


I could do more, but for now let this suffice. Life has its differences that remind me that I'm not in NC anymore, but the daily living is very much the same. I deal with some of the same frustrations and struggles. I still go to a normal job every morning. I still need a social circle where I feel like I belong. God has provided all that I need--which includes opportunities to share His love. May we all be "missionaries" every day of our daily life!

Playing Cards

“Life consists not in having good cards, but playing the cards you have well.” This is something I’m learning to do and something that the people here do well.

(oops, meant to post this a month ago...oh well, if you're lacking in reading material, you may enjoy..)

Rene left last Tuesday. I have to admit, it has affected me more than I expected. The volume of tears wasn’t proportional to the emotional shift I experienced, of which my students suffered the after-shock. I was unusually on edge for the rest of the week. Several times already I have looked around the room to share that humor that only a sister would understand only to realize that these jokes are once again preserved for the occasional email. Her last few days revealed the number of people whose hearts will forever bear her fingerprint. I am certainly not alone (though I realize my blogs rarely express the blessing she has been).

Other recent developments involve additions to my future resume. You may remember that Rene and I both are on our way to become Nigerian pop stars, being featured in a Christian music video. I am also becoming the dance instructor for every occasion. On an almost-monthly basis, I host a swing session with a friend I’ve coerced into being my partner. I’ve since been asked to co-teach country line dancing and square dancing as well as salsa. Talk about a cultural range!! Truly these opportunities are fun for me and help satisfy my dance cravings.

Tara and I had one of our compound guards visit us the other night. (I’m not sure if I’ve introduced Tara yet, but she is my new housemate. She teaches 1st grade here at Hillcrest since Dana has returned to the states. She’s fantastic!) It was somewhat of a surprise visit, which was actually kind of nice. Those happen often here, but not as much on my particular compound. I dished him out some dinner (a miracle that it stretched enough to feed the three of us) and prepared for a couple hours of eating, story-telling, and laughter. At the end of the evening, it felt good to have naturally done the culturally appropriate thing (all work plans aside), make him comfortable, and sincerely enjoy the whole ordeal.

This dinner visit was a timely one, for I was in need of a renewed love for this place. The people here are special, characterized by the simple enjoyment and love of life. Rarely do I have a conversation with a Nigerian without a bit of laughter in it. I love to greet a stranger and watch their face light up with that brilliant smile as if we were high school buddies meeting years later. When was the last time that has happened at Harris Teeter or the 7-11? We Christ-followers have something to smile and be happy about. I’ve found that simply living out that joy in confidence is one way to be a great blessing to all those around.

“Life consists not in having good cards, but playing the cards you have well.”

There's More Than One Way...And More Than One Thing

We all know the expression, “there’s more than one way to skin a cat.” Well, I witnessed more than one way to slaughter a chicken. You may remember the night I spent duct-taped to a tree as punishment for losing a game of Farkle. Thankfully I was merely a witness to this punishment: Matt had to kill a chicken with his hands. He researched the night before several methods of killing a chicken, and chose to break the neck. After our weekly Ultimate Frisbee game, we convened in my backyard to watch. One of our Nigerian friends, Monday, killed the first and advised and aided in the plucking. Monday’s method was to saw through the neck of the chicken and bleed it to death.

Then the plucking, gutting, and butchering.

Meanwhile some others and I prepare the marinade and fixings for the feast. The whole ordeal took about 3 hours! And yes, this is the chicken head: brains, eyeballs and tongue. But, dear friends in the Philippines and Charity Baptist, I think that balute was more difficult to stomach even after seeing the whole process!


I’ve also been trying my hand at more traditional Nigerian dishes and have possibly mastered egusi soup. To avoid a complicated list of ingredients that won’t mean anything to you anyway, let it suffice to say that it’s a thick stew with meat, veggies, and grinded special stuff eaten with lump of something that resembles extremely thick mashed potatoes. Bottom line: REALLY GOOD (regardless of how it looks).

I served this dish when I had my Hausa teacher, Bilhatu, over for dinner. By the end of the evening, I started to get the understanding that crime is on the up-rise. Then prayer for internal security was mentioned several times at church this past Sunday. Car stealing, armed robberies, and kidnapping for ransom and spiritualistic rituals are increasing. I’ve been unaware of these issues. I don’t want to scare you guys out there, for I’ve never felt in any real danger (and I know how to be careful), but here are some news snippets:

http://www.tribune.com.ng/27072009/news/news11.html

For those of you who have been in tuned in on BBC, there was a crisis in Bauchi State and 4 other surrounding states. It was led by an Islamic extremist group who were against all things Western. In a matter of days, hundreds of lives were taken. The federal police took the matter seriously and promptly ended the conflict before it had a chance to spread. We praise God for the disturbance to be over, and respectfully mourn for the fate of the lost and otherwise affected souls of both the Christian and Muslim sides.

I am asking prayer for the country because these things are evidences of a people without Christ. Yes, I praise the Lord for His protection thus far and ask for the hedge to continually be around me, but I pray for the end of these things to come about due to the glorious salvation of the participants.
For the sake of their souls and to the glory of the Father,
Kari
PS:sorry pics decided to be difficult, so follow this link to view...

Chicken, Hiking, Market, Goodbyes

Gyro Girls and Aerial Attacks

My last post mentioned my affliction of persecution over here. My newest attack was of the aerial persuasion. I went to Gyro, a village about 20 minutes outside of Jos, with Lisa. Lisa spends quite a bit of time with these boys and girls, and I wanted to see her ministry, which is something very different from my classroom ministry. The boys and girls (ages 7-25) each have their own story of abandonment of one sort or another and how this ministry found them. This past Sunday (June 21st) was my first time there and the girls flocked to us both and welcomed me as if they were waiting for me. As I think back to the scene, I am touched by their open vulnerability and desperation for love.

Well, Lisa and I took these precious ones mango hunting. It was a pleasant afternoon stroll through rows of assorted crops, creeks, and rocks. We chatted, sung, and held hands until we finally got to the cluster of mango trees, picking berries along the way. I was impressed by the way these girls scampered up the trees and dropped mangoes for the others below to catch—such skill and sense of teamwork! I melted as I watched the girls indulge in their delicious finds, juice dripping from their cheeks and running down their arms. Then I realized I was juicy and sticky too!

From Gyro

From Gyro

From Gyro

From Gyro

From Gyro

At any rate, we ran into a little trouble on our way back to their home. Enter our winged enemies. Angry bees blocked half of us from crossing the bridge (which, I might add, was a laughable construction of boards and iron). It took me a while to realize why these little girls were running away from the bridge in hysterics—girls can be silly sometimes, right? When realization caught up with me, I immediately went to work at swatting and killing as many bees as I could that were following one girl, Faith. The poor thing got stung several times. In the process, I got stung myself and understood why she was crying so hard—those things are PAINFUL!

By the time we got to the home via detour I noticed how itchy my entire head was and that my ears felt a little funny. After reporting to the uncle in charge and handing over the girls with stings, Lisa and I noticed that my face was swelling up. The uncle gave me some kind of pill, but the swelling was spreading quickly, so we decided to leave immediately. We were both anxious because getting home to some antihistamine involved a 10 min bumpy ride on the back of a motorcycle and then another 15 ride in a taxi to the house. The swelling had spread all over my body, affecting my hearing, making me a bit dizzy, and starting to tighten my airway.

The whole way home, Lisa and I were silently pleading with God to have His hand on me until I got some drugs in me. Mind you, I’ve never had an allergic reaction to anything in my life (besides the common rash from poison ivy). I was, quite honestly, a bit panicky, but forced myself to stay calm and rational.

Lisa took me to the hospital just in case there was something else I needed to do/take. I was directed to the ER. I’ll spare you all the inadequate description of that experience. In the end, the nurse (or whatever her title was) prescribed me some steroids that they didn’t have in stock. Great. Well, since all the nearby and trustworthy pharmacies were closed, I decided to ignore the suggested drugs. Besides, after taking the antihistamine the swelling had gone down considerably. By evening, however, my eyelids and ears and the surrounding areas were still swollen and tender. Much to all of our disappointment, I wasn’t able to get a picture of the peak of my metamorphosis. Sorry.

Looking back, that was almost a fun experience. Seriously, though, I am extremely thankful for the Lord’s protection. It is not often I am faced with a fear quite like that. My mind went immediately to a friend of mine here who has some kind of illness that greatly affects her breathing and has griped her very being with fear. The doctors here didn’t know what it is, so she went home to get adequate medical attention (a list of answered prayer and the Lord’s goodness in that situation). A group of us visited and prayed with her while she was still here. I am amazed by the strange mix of trust in the Lord—leaning on His sovereignty—and the haunting whisper of fear that creeps from the unknown. I had just a small glance of what that is like.

Praise God for His SUPREMACY! All things come from His hand, so I can trust in His purposes. Wisdom, goodness, and power far beyond our own!

Fixed on our Father and back to my normal form,
Kari

Persecution among believers in Christ is still prevalent today in Jos, Nigeria. And by “among” I mean “from” fellow believers. As we all know, persecution can take various forms, and the kind I endured was centered on a game of Farkle (a dice game). Since I was the loser of this intense game, my comrades duct taped me to a conspicuous tree on my own compound for the entire night to greet the students coming in for a tournament the next morning (thankfully the tournament was the following week, and yes, this was during the school year). I was particularly nervous about my students seeing me duct taped to a tree, for I had no good explanation to give them. The deal was that I could choose a fellow sufferer, but I couldn’t bring myself to sentence a particular person, so I chose a name out of a hat (sorry Immanuel). Honestly, looking back, I should have chosen the instigator of the whole ordeal, Dustin, who is a short termer with SIM. Several guards passed by and laughed. One guard asked, “Is this how you people torture people? I like it! Are you going to kill her?” After hanging for 6 hours, my mind drifted to the consideration of acetic suffering to get a clearer picture of the physical agony of Christ on the cross. But that is a bit of a stretch in spiritualizing a lost wager!

Although games of luck don’t work out for me to well, games of sport are right up my alley. I joined a group of folks to watch the Nigeria-Kenya World Cup Qualifiers last weekend in Abuja. The travel there and back was just as eventful as the game itself. In trying to find the entrance to the stadium, I followed (on foot) the sea of people that looked like they knew where they were going (my dearest sister Rene, lovely housemate Dana, and great Irishman Micah were with me). Much to my bewilderment, the guards started flogging the masses with long tree branches as they scrambled in the gate. Once I shook myself out of my shocked confusion, I decided we should follow the OTHER mob of people, but I turned around only to see a single middle-aged man on his knees being beaten by two policemen, shouting things I couldn’t understand. The rest of the journey to the stadium was also surreal—as if from a movie.


By some miracle, my posse and I found the rest of our group in the packed out stadium. With a population of several thousand, there were probably 30 white people and 20 of them were with us. The stadium was surprisingly nice. Oh, and forget hotdogs and popcorn: this place sold roasted chicken quarters and suya (steak strips)! Nigeria won, for which I was extremely thankful b/c I’d hated to see the reaction of a loss with that many excitable people. I was also pleased to see that they were happy to see foreigners supporting their country’s colors!

Before you think that my summer is simply going from one game to the next, allow me to remind you that I’ve been taking Hausa language classes. It is going well and the guards on my compound love to challenge me and help me practice. There are 9 of us in a class, which is considered to be very large. With two Texans, a Dominican New Yorker, a New Zealander, and several jokesters, we have a lot of laughs in class! Here’s a couple of Hausa bloopers:
1) What he meant to say in response to ‘Hey white man’: “Hey black man!”
What he actually said: “Hey black dead!”
2) What I meant to say to a guy in my class: “Bring me some facial tissue.”
What I actually said: “Bring me some flesh tissue.” The embarrassing things that could have been insinuated there are endless!

The last bit of news is not quite as light-hearted. Marc, member of the “family” and Dana, my housemate both left on Friday. I’m usually pretty good at saying goodbyes even to the point that I may seem cold-hearted. But when Dana left, Rene, Briska and I were all boo-hooing. It took Dana and me a while to get connected, so it’s frustrating to have to let her go now. I have really grown to love our friendship and hate to see her go. Transitory relationships, however, is a part of life—especially the missionary life. I pray that God uses these experiences to teach me to love better.

At this time of having an “empty nest” and reflecting on my friendships back home, I’ve been reminded of a very appropriate quote, “All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on” (Henry Ellis). So true! Thankfully, I never have to let go of the Lord, nor does He let go of me!

Kari

This is me trying to pound yam--NOT EASY!! But is sure does taste good!

Happiness in 6 Things

I was trying to think of a good encompassing title for this blog. As I reviewed, I realized that all was in some way expressing things in which I find happiness. I've kept track for you by numbering each one. :)

(1)Not much is new around these parts...except that my dearly beloved sister is engaged!
(2)Since I know I haven't mentioned much about Rene, let it go on the record that I am thrilled to be able to share the Nigerian experience with her. This mushy sentiment came to the surface on April 21 and the weeks following when my scheming with Andrew finally came to fruition. He, Dana, and I sorted out all the details of his travels from Guinea (where he serves in the Peace Corps) to Rene. At that point, she was at camp in a different state. With every mention of their engagement, my dopey smile grew and my heart swelled with inexplicable joy and satisfaction.

(3)That weekend (April 24-26) was exciting for me too because I was anxious to hang out with Andrew again also. In my mind, he had already reached the family level. So I was ready to join the group going to Yankari, the National wildlife reserve. There, we swam in the hot springs, camped out in tents, and went on a safari. We saw several waterbuck and other over-sized deer-like animals, a huge lizard, and a warthog. The group that went right after us, however, saw a huge herd of elephants! (4)Once again, nothing beats a getaway with a group of great people!

Since then, my attention has been consumed with school, which is expected--especially at the end of the year. If I haven't said it enough: I absolutely love working with the other teachers and administrators her at Hillcrest and the students are great too. I am truly thankful to be here. I've read my last post about Solomon building the temple of God and been refreshed with the reminder that God is my enabling force. As I continue to read in 2 Chronicles, I am reminded of other truths like God's strict hatred of pride. Perhaps my difficult lessons, days, and weeks are really His way of giving me grace. Maybe He is using them to protect me and keep me humble, lest I think that I can make it on my own.

(5)Although I've felt like I was on the verge of disaster in the classroom all week, I am compelled to praise the Lord for His faithfully sustaining hand. He enabled, strengthened, and encouraged me all week in just the right ways. If those kids have learned ANYTHING in English this year, all glory to God! ha ha


(two of my 7th grade students reading to Dana's first grade class)

(6)That said, I only have 2 more weeks of teaching and then a week of exams. Graduation is on May 28th and then my first year of teaching will be over! Wow. I can say that this year can be summed up in four words, "Oh God, HELP me!"

"All that I see teaches me to trust the creator for all I have not seen." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Are you sure you want me, God?"

It was starting to become too much. I groped for a chair to sit in and ease my swimming head. The room was spinning, and I could feel my eyes widen and dilate and my brow furrow. This is all a bit too overwhelming right now. My tongue dried up and the lump in my throat rendered me speechless. I opened my mouth to protest and question my ability, but all I could manage was a humiliating whimper. That was just one more proof that I was not man enough—old or wise enough—for this task. Not yet.
Dad finally broke from his instructions. He probably saw my bewilderment like a child lost in the crowd. He changed direction, tried a new tactic. I suddenly felt like he was pepping me up for one of my decathlon races. “Be strong, son! Face this task with confident courage. There’s no need to fear or despair because I’ve taken care of half of the work. You have everything you need by God’s sovereign provision. Besides, you aren’t building this temple on your own. The Lord has raised many skilled workers: carpenters, masons, iron workers…The Lord is with you, Solomon. Trust and seek the Lord and everything will be fine.” He kept telling me that I was the one Yahweh had chosen, so, naturally, I will be empowered to carry out the task of building His temple. Father wanted to build it for a long time, but God forbade him because he had shed so much blood in war. That is why I’ve been commissioned for the work.
Air is flowing more easily into my lungs, now. Dad is recounting the hundreds of times when the Lord showed His protection when he was a boy shepherd: when he wrestled the bear and the lion and defeated Goliath. Tears roll down my cheeks as I listen in amazement to Father’s miraculous escapes from King Saul’s attempt to kill him. We laughed together about the time the mighty Arameans took one look at Dad’s army and ran away, leaving their swords behind in a crazed fear. Dad could have left it at that, but to make sure they wouldn’t return, he and his men caught up with them and took about 47,000 lives—including their commander, Shophach.
I am really going to miss these moments with Dad. He wasn’t perfect, by any means, but he really knows the power of God and I can find strength in that. He is a rough man but still a shepherd boy at heart. Jehovah must be the same. He is certainly the Almighty God, but as a good shepherd, He is a great leader and protector of His sheep. As long as I look to Him, everything will be just fine, just like Dad said. Bring out the cedar and silver, and let’s build this temple!
~See 1 Chronicles 21

PS: Although this is a rendition of what might have happened with Solomon as David spoke to him about becoming king, I seem to go through this scene at least once a week. I'm sorry I'm low on pictures. I just can't figure this silly thing out! :(

For Better or for Worse

Just when I think a particular class is beyond immediate help and the only thing I can do is wait for them to be more mature next year, they completely bless me! I used all the self-control I cold muster in my body this afternoon. I stopped to breathe and count to…actually I’m not sure when I stopped! By the time the vexing students left with their last set of livid instructions on behavior, I was thin-mouthed and inarticulate.

To be honest, I was nervous about my next class because they typically drain me of patience and energy, neither of which were available for disposal. To my immediate relief, each student in the in-coming class responded with a certain compassion to my state of mind. They were wonderful—even those who do not typically pick up on social clues were gracious to me today! Around mid-way through class, one boy conjured up the courage to speculate about the cause of my tension. He also pointed out that I had been squeezing the home-made stressball (which I popped later on and flour went all over the floor of my desk). He-he, oops! I’m a little sheepish about it all now.

I made sure my students knew just how appreciative I was for their good behavior. (Of course, they took the opportunity to ask for a party as a reward!)

With the day behind me now, and my pent-up adrenaline spent on aerobics and running, I marvel at the power we humans have on each other. No, we aren’t controlled by another’s actions or attitude, but we are certainly affected by them. Immediately, a two-fold challenge hit me: how can I let my reactions be controlled by the Holy Spirit rather than my emotions, and how can I make sure that I affect others to turn their day in a positive direction? They are both heavy loads to carry, but demonstrating Christ is not going to be easy!

Eph 4:29 “Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, so that it will give grace to those who hear.”

Harmartan Craziness

I have woken up the past few mornings with oddly swollen eyes, dry throat, and a runny nose. No, I’m not sick, but only experiencing the much-anticipated Harmartan. This sandy phenomenon is late in coming, but has suddenly blown in. The sands from the Sahara Desert blow south (I believe it is due to this seasonal sand movement that the Sahara is expanding). By the time the sand storms reach Jos, they come in a form that can be best described as a mist. However, our northern neighbors experience lethal walls of sand that force traveling cars to pull over and threaten to bury little ones alive. The art teacher who informed me of this wonder said that in the middle of the day, people have to turn on the lights in the house because the sand is so thick that is blocks out the sunlight! (below is an attempt to show you a comparison)

On Thursday, I was particularly distracted by the dusty atmosphere. Allow me to paint a picture for you. Everywhere you look, you see a haze that resembles the smoke from a concert’s smoke machine right before it dissipates—only its dirt-orange rather than gray. Even my classroom has a soft blurry glow! Again, is it similar to a morning mist, but the sun does not evaporate it as it rises. In fact, the sand is thick enough to block some of the sun’s heat, which is why this time of year is also the cold season (about 50-70 degrees F, but I’m just guess since I don’t have a proper thermometer). This wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the change in the breathing conditions as well. Everywhere I go, I smell dirt. I feel like I’m stuck in an old, dusty closet. I even try to take shallow breaths to cut down on inhaling the dust as if I could wait until it clears! There’s nowhere I can go to get clean air. Hence, my sinuses rebel and make it clear to me that they are not happy with the abuse I’m putting them through. (Even as I’m typing this, I have both nostrils stylishly stuffed with toilet paper.)

Despite the janitor’s efforts just 14 hours earlier, there is a fresh layer of dirt and dust over everything from the floor to the desks to the tape dispenser. Much to my disappointment, my house is no asylum from the sandman. Many of you know how it must be a challenge for me to cope with an eternally dusty home, but I trick myself into thinking that the new color of furniture and cloth is the true color. J

Oh, and don’t be mistaken, I may sound like I just finished a barrage of complaints, but I was simply relaying factual details to help your mental image. J Really…

As a teacher and discipleship leader, I look for a lesson lingering with this suffocating dust. The Lord allowed me to see past the inconvenience of it and behold His creation demonstrates His truth:

1. Sin is tolerable—even livable—but it’s not healthy! You adapt to that life which you choose, but you will suffer consequences that will eventually become apparent.
2. Our flesh is but dust. I’m amazed at how quickly dust settles and blown away. It is only by God’s grace that our flimsy lives can account to anything.
3. My new condition also serves as a challenge to let God be bigger than my circumstances: can I still be joyful even when I am not feeling well and can’t do a thing about it?

Please let me know how things are with your worlds! Drop me a comment or an email: lafnwithjoy@yahoo.com

Taking in the breath of God,

Kari

Weariness

Left with nary a spark of life.

That spark, like that of hope, peace, joy and calm,

Dropped to the heap of ashes of them all.

Its remnants, no longer blithe.

These ashes upon the head

Of the mourner for that which is dead

Are a weightless powder

yet laden the soul with pains heavier and louder.

Just as the beginning, you breathed life in this man

The embers awakened and light shone again

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust

But it is YOU who decides when enough is enough!