Kari's Kronicles

The Questions we all hate, but still ask

2011-02-24T14:23:00.000-08:00

So I’ve been in the States for about 9 months now, and I am overwhelmingly disturbed by a simple fact of life. It’s not that I just don’t like it—although that’s true. I think it is a sly maneuver by the enemy and we’ve all accepted it as the natural thing to do. I say, “Ask yourself what this habit says about us as a people and you as an individual. Would you have to change if you were to act true to what you actually think?”

The thing is, the first question people ask when they meet someone is, “What do you do?” Most of the time—unless they’re networking—they don’t really care. They want to know what you’re about, what you’re interested in, and what you know. Sometimes a job has an interest value of its own and brings up a good conversation piece. I wish I could re-meet people from these past 9 months to give a more accurate view of Kari Marshall and challenge them to think deeper when they try to get to know the next person. I’m not just in transition, looking for a job, a world traveler, a teacher of two years, or someone not up to much right now. No! My identity is not defined by my occupation or lack thereof, with whom I am connected, or even by what I do. I’d like to meet people and let them know who I REALLY am, to the core.
That’s a serious question to answer, which requires serious thought. The truth is, my identity is so wrapped up in Christ—in my relationship with Him—that there is NO way to separate the two. But to dive into some profound, revolutionary chat requires tact, but if done well, what a striking way to represent a life with the Lord!

I have to acknowledge the fact that who we are is also shaped by our experiences of what has happened to us and what we’ve done—including our occupation(s). I suppose my argument, to be applied practically, is to refrain from allowing your job or lack thereof to be your SOLE defining feature. Instead, make an effort to know yourself well enough to describe you without the use of your job. Make it a game; consider it a challenge; take it on as your new passion against mainstream society—think of it in whatever way to give you motivation to reject a label and present your SELF.

For the sake of honesty, I ought to fill in some more details. I haven’t had a steady job that brings in adequate income since coming back to the States, and due to shifting circumstances, my projected goals have been equally unsteady. The constant questions about jobs from both strangers and concerned acquaintances and friends have hit me like a tennis ball machine, and my situation has left me without a racquet. As time went on, I hid myself behind various things and people, all the while stress and slight depression were mounting up with each blow. My worth and self-projection were looking bleak, for what was I doing anyway? For several weeks at a time, I battled for truth of what Scriptures said about me and where my purpose lies. In my searching, I found God’s heart for justice for the weak (Is 61), the equipping of His saints (Eph 4:12), and bringing all people everywhere to Him (Acts 17:30). I also found that what was keeping me from embracing God’s heart to be my own was this question of occupation that constantly put my focus on myself, financial security, a title/company to identify with, and the push to validate myself as a working (and thereby useful) citizen. Sure there are virtues in these things, but they CAN’T be how we define ourselves. We have much more worth than that. Now that I’m employed again, I am working to not get sucked into the practice of placing my security and identity in my job.

To those of you asking, ", “So you are back in North Carolina, what are you going to do next?”:

2010-07-05T10:14:00.000-07:00

> Friends bidding me farewell. :)

I am sorry for not being more faithful on updating on what is happening. It has already been a month since I left Nigeria. That blows my mind! My first two weeks were consumed with my beloved sister’s wedding that took place on June 12th. Then a few friends from Nigeria and I took a road trip—passing through Virginia, DC, and NY— to Canada to see another friend we met in Nigeria get married. It was a great reunion, reminiscent of our group travels in West Africa but without all the wahala (problems). Then I spent some time with family in Ohio for a few days. It was so great to see them after over 2 years! ;)
Cousins and Grandparents.

In addition to continuing long-missed conversations and real hugs with friends and family from all over, I will be working on a plan for a ministry that I will keep nameless for now. Suffice it to say that I’m super excited about it and would GREATLY appreciate your prayers for guidance and blessing concerning it and/or any other opportunity the Lord brings my way. The Lord has provided a catering job for me that practically fell in my lap. This job also allows me to look for a second means of income. Lord willing, I’ll work for a year and then start my Masters of Education at UNCG by August 2011.

Last Week in Nigeria

2010-05-25T12:38:00.000-07:00

I sit here, with exactly one week left in Nigeria. And I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it.

A few days ago, I had an epiphany about my purpose as an English teacher here in Jos, Nigeria. I realized that my focus had come full-circle from last year. I concerned myself about the lack of depth and soundness that I saw in many of the churches here and concluded upon questioning a range of knowledgeable people that a main reason is low reading comprehension in English and lack of study resources in Hausa (many of the theological students’ first language). I thus considered teaching English to the seminary students this year, but realized that was not God’s purpose for me to be here.

Since then, I’ve talked more with my students and found that several of them don’t like to read because they find it difficult to understand the sentences on the page. For many of them, English is their primary language. In talking with them about their spiritual lives, I also found that they don’t like to read the Bible because they don’t understand it either. Suddenly, my role holds much more applicable value than passing tests and getting kids through school—I’m teaching them to understand what they read so they can better understand when they read the Bible!

Great time to be fused with energetic purpose, uh? I’m not even teaching anymore because the kids are taking exams all week. Still, it is witness to the fact that God knows what He is doing in placing a burden in my heart and in placing me in my specific area of ministry.

My last days will be occupied with dinners and making the most of what little time I have left. Please pray for good, meaningful goodbyes and wisdom as I say my last words to my students. I do feel like it is important that I tell them the truth and let them know I love them—regardless of the number of collective punishments. 

I spent the afternoon on Saturday to greet my market friends and let them know I’m traveling. They welcomed me back with warm smiles, wondering where I’ve been since it’s been several months since I’ve made it out to them (we have someone to shop for us now—a normal thing). Unfortunately, Mama Favor (also known as Mama Jesus due to her constant evangelizing) and Hasan were not there. I especially wanted to see them.

Yes, one week. I’m ready for school to be finished, but I’m not fully ready for Nigerian to be finished. Yes, I’m bursting at the seams to see my family and friends in NC, but I’m sad to leave my family and friends in Jos. This will be an emotional week! Watch out!

Again Late in Publishing

2010-04-18T10:36:00.001-07:00

As I lay in bed, I realized that I haven’t updated my blog in the passed month and a half. I could hear the question, “So, what have you been up to lately?” I don’t think I have any wonderful stories this time. However, there always seems to be an on-going redemptive pattern in my classroom: I blow it, I beg for an extra measure of love and all the other goods, and then—by God’s grace—I successfully meet an opportunity to be/share Christ. I might have said this before, but I’m learning how to be a parent as I learn to be a better teacher.

In the meantime, I continue to carry out life:
1. Learning how to gut a chicken
2. Training for a 10k race to raise money for an orphanage
3. Making arrangements to go to a teacher’s conference over spring break
4. Sweating at night. Yes, the “cold” season has ended and it is your stereotypical steamy Africa…ALL the time. We are waiting for the rains to come and clear the air of all the dust.
5. Picking up piano again
6. Having the hostel girls over for movie nights
7. Hanging out with the compound guards, practicing my Hausa
8. Walking 20 min. to and from church.
9. Exploring abandoned buildings.

For a certain period of time, I questioned whether I could teach the rest of my life because it seemed to devour all of my time and energy quite literally. I am happy to announce that I believe that I actually can do this! People weren’t lying to me: the second year really is easier than the first! I do things quicker and certain things come more natural. I imagine it continues to get easier. Although, I have seen that even the most esteemed experience teachers still struggle with “those students.” Still, it’s different for them.

I’m looking for things to report to you people, but I’m running out of ideas. Feel free to post a comment or a question on this thing, or you can even email me! I’d love to hear from you!!

Since I’ve been here, I’ve learned more about what it means to be “American” or “Western.” It’s nice to know that I do have a culture that is uniquely “American” that’s neither good nor bad. A couple differences you might find interesting:
1. Here, there’s not much thought about “postmodernism” or how the church ought to respond to it. I’ve even forgotten that took up any of my grey matter only 2 years ago.
2. As one might guess, we don’t typically call before we show up. We just come and hope you have something for us to eat or drink…something other than water, thank you.
3. To honor one’s guest, they’ll serve you food and let you eat it alone. Sometimes they’ll even leave the room!
4. All transactions ought to be made with the right hand, no matter how inconvenient.
5. You want to buy something? Well, get yourself in front of the shop owner and dictate what you want. And be big so that you are served before another person squeezes before you. I’m still not good at that.

6. If you have a T.V., blare it. If you have light, all switches are on. Period.
7. A “greeting” is not just a card. It is a conversation that can last 30 seconds to 3 minutes.
8. Smiling doesn’t mean you’re weird here. You smile and you simply get more attention.

A possible letter in response to recent events in Nigeria

2010-02-01T12:05:00.000-08:00

Paul and Martin Luther, servants of our Lord Jesus Christ, called from the difficult to the hard for the glory of God to spread His gospel of freedom and peace. Greetings to the church in Nigeria, to those who are being sanctified by the sufferings of the faith and by the hand of God. We have heard of your situation and rejoice with our fellow brethren at the endurance you have demonstrated as a testimony of the faithfulness of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Since the day we heard of it, we have not ceased to pray for you and to ask that you may be filled with the knowledge of His will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so that you will walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, to please Him in all respects, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God; strengthened with all power, according to His glorious might, for the attaining of all steadfastness and patience; joyously giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified us to share in the inheritance of the saints in Light.

And we pray that you love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, for such were some of you; but you were washed, but you were sanctified, but you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God. For He does not will that any should perish.

Our Lord Jesus warned us that the world will hate us as it hated Him and put Him to death. Yet He still commanded us to love and not fear what man can do to us and our family but rather fear Him who can destroy both soul and body. And though this world, filled with devils, should threaten to undo us, we will not fear, for God has willed His truth to triumph through us. The prince of darkness is grim, but we tremble not for him—his rage can endure ‘cause his doom is sure! Likewise, many precious things of this life—though good—can be shaken and taken and will not remain. But we have received and therefore must live for a kingdom which cannot be shaken, for it is eternal.

As you offer yourselves as a living sacrifice unto God, which is an acceptable service of gratitude with reverence and awe, pursue peace with all men, and the sanctification without which no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one comes short of the grace of God; that no root of bitterness springing up causes trouble and by it many be defiled.

Finally brethren, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might…for our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in heavenly places.

One little word which is above all earthly powers will fell the prince of this darkness. The Spirit and the gifts are ours through Him who sides with us! Let goods and kindred go. And this mortal life also. The body they may kill, but God’s truth abides still—and His kingdom is FOREVER!

May the grace and peace of God be with you as the Comforter fills you in this time of sorrow.

2010-01-18T07:13:00.000-08:00

Heb 11: 13b, 16 “…They were strangers and pilgrims on the earth…But now they desire a better country, that is a heavenly one, wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God for he hath prepared for them a city.”

As these faithful ones, so am I a “stranger and exile on the earth.” The reality of this had hit me before, but I’m stunned by the blow again. Can I then compare my lifetime on Earth to my two-to-four-ish years in a given place (for that is how I see me living my life)? Yes, it seems to be a sufficient—if not complete—analogy.

I’ve made myself comfortable here with the understanding that I could be asked to move. In spite of the lack of permanence, I make relationships, develop love for others, and enjoy my time here.

Also, my focus is defined: I am a teacher and a missionary. Thus, with a faint sense of urgency that sometimes becomes more acute, I seek out opportunities to influence lives and eternities for the glory of God. As time nears the end, my heart hurts for these people. I hate to leave them, but we never really leave each other.

NC is my home, but so was SC when I schooled there. Nigeria is also my home. Wherever I live is home. But none of these places are really HOME. Maybe I’m fine with being so transitional because God travels with me and my spirit is at Home with Him.

How wonderful it will be when I have complete permanence with Him in heaven!

Nepali Nights

2010-01-10T11:11:00.000-08:00

If I’m having such a hard time recapping on a 2-week adventure to Nepal, I’m a bit nervous about how I’ll handle the requests to explain my 2-year stay in Nigeria. To make sure I give you a fair “heads up,” I might just send you to read my blog! Don’t worry; I’ll say it with my sweetest southern charm. ;) As I’ve learned, it’s easier sooner rather than later, so here we go…

On my way to Nepal, I had a 14 hour layover in Doha, Qatar which is a tiny country on the inner vertex of the Arabian Peninsula (kinda geometric for an English teacher, uh?). A Nigerian friend connected me with a friend of his who would take me around the city. Since I have to get out of the airport to be considered to have visited the country, I figured I would take advantage of such a ridiculous layover. Not to knock the country, but there just isn’t a ton to see and do. With all its “black gold” it did a nice job turning the desert into a city of creative architecture. Truly, wherever there wasn’t pavement, there was sand. Besides its oil, I suppose Qatar is best known for its Khalifa Stadium which held the 2006 Asian Games.

Here is the Museum of Islamic Art which just opened in 2009.

The first thing I have to remind you all—as I was reminded myself—is that whatever you assume about the demographics of a country based on pictures and media is WRONG. I found this to be overtly true as I rode through Kathmandu , the capitol, to the apartment I stayed in for a couple nights. The trash-littered roads, tall buildings, billboard signs, buzzing and honking cars, and streams of pedestrians almost brought me back to any given big city in the States. The roadside markets, chaotic driving, makeshift driving machines, and lack of bright lights (or streetlights, for that matter) reminded me that I was still not in First World America. The incredibly narrow and bumpy dirt alleys were likewise reminiscent of the Nigerian roads to residents off the main road.

That said, I did see enough saris and traditional wear—complete with the red tiki on the forehead and nose piercings—to call it common place culture. In fact, we stayed so close to a Stupa, the Buddhist place of prayer and worship, that we passed by it on a daily basis to see the devout march around the building, spinning the prayer wheels and periodically prostrating themselves. It was heart-wrenching to see such hopeless sincerity Even more saddening is when I saw a Westerner with a shaven head and red tunic, displaying a life committed to the search of the truth through following Buddha when they have access to the real Life-giving Truth in their country.

Christmas without a single member of my family was an interesting experience that reinforced both the focus of the season and the truth that all believers make up the family of God. I'm surprised how attached I got to them. I was welcomed to a Christmas Eve dinner as well as a Christmas morning family worship and gift exchange. We even had stockings filled with the things that whisper of home: an orange, chocolate, a toothbrush, a lighter, and nuts. I’m still amazed at how quickly I began an attachment with those folks in Kathmandu . Oh, we also sang real carols on Christmas Eve in a tiny restaurant owned by a Hindu lady. A couple Western monks came in for food and clearly enjoyed our music—and I can’t help but think it was because of the light of truth they saw in them. One of our guys couldn’t help but bring in the Santa suit also.

That afternoon, Kav and I left our temporary stay with her friends in Kathmandu to go to her own place in Pokhara. On the flight over I had my first glimpse of the Himalayas.

The next day we had a picnic with several Nepali families for the purpose to share the Christmas story with them—most were not believers. We sat everyone down on mats after a silent war to get each mat to touch. There were different casts present and it was important to enforce equality. There I met a lady whom will always be imprinted in my memory: Goodday. I played and danced with her daughters and took time to talk with her. This won me the privilege to be invited over later to spend time with her and tell her more about Jesus and how He is not just a god but the One True God.

We were invited over to Sidduh's house for dinner and to share the gospel story with his family. Kav told the story from creation to resurrection and Hom, another new believer, translated. Siddhu’s mother listened intently, which gave us much encouragement.

One day Hom, Saomi (random Japanese girl we picked up), and I crossed Fewa Lake to the World Peace Stupa—a Buddhist monument and place of worship.

From that point, we could see almost all of Pokhara.

As we walked around, we ran into a couple of bison. I HAD to get the photo, but it was also pretty scary being so close to such a big and unpredictable animal. This is what Nepalese eat instead of beef because they treat cows as sacred. Likewise, they make milk and cheese from yaks.

I got to trek up Sarangkot, but those pictures will be coming later. Sorry.

I’ll close for now. As much as I loved Nepal and my time there, I was affirmed that Nigeria in my home. This is undoubtedly where God has me for a season. I am so glad to be back! I’m totally enjoying my time with Tara, my roommate, again and her sister, Jena, who is visiting for the month. 

Before the dawn of time and through the dawn of tomorrow

2009-12-19T05:08:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-13T08:35:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-13T08:33:00.001-08:00

“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

2009-08-14T09:35:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-01T14:28:00.000-07:00

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

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

2009-06-14T11:47:00.000-07:00

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

2009-05-10T09:33:00.000-07:00

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?"

2009-04-10T03:41:00.000-07:00

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

2009-03-04T09:05:00.000-08:00

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

2009-02-19T08:10:00.000-08:00

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:

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.
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.
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

2009-01-08T05:00:00.000-08:00

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!

Came and Went

2008-12-19T10:53:00.000-08:00

Just a snapshot of the material damages of the riots...

Isn't that the way it is sometimes: you just begin something and the experience is over before you know it. Whether it is a survival mechanism or naivete, I have to remind myself of the happenings of the past couple weeks and that they were real. But these pictures allow the unsettling memory to rest in my mind. These "Tiger Patrol" officials were part of the convoy that escorted the hostel students from my compound to Abuja.

Many families are still experiencing the repercussions of such violence, yet it still feels so far away. School has since resumed, students crammed for semester exams, and now we are out again. School also "came and went." This semester "came and went."

I've been here in Nigeria for 5 1/2 months. Time is flying!

If it is possible that some of you have not received an e-mail update on the goings-on here in Jos, I'm alive, safe, and unharmed. Unfortunately, many people cannot say this. We had tens of thousands internally displaced peoples (IDPs), many of whom lost everything they owned (including their income of crops) due to fires set ablaze by irrational hate. Relief is organized for these people, but only the Lord can heal the deep wounds of fear, trauma, hate, sin, and godlessness. Pray for spiritual, emotional, relational, and financial recovery for the people here.

Pardon my COMPLETE gear-change...
...but as I said, things come and go. As I was grading exams for 6th-8th grade, I humoured myself with their comments at the end. I left some space on the exam for the students to share anything with me (the good, bad, ugly, random, requests, etc). I thought I'd share just a couple:

A 6th grade student: Miss Marshall, do you ever think about getting married? I hope you get a god-honoring, humble, nice, gentle husband. But please don't leave us if you get married!
8th grade student: You're a cheerful person. Yelling doesn't suit you.
8th grade student: You're a cool teacher with a sense of humor. Even though I'm not the best student ever, I still like your teaching. (A complete surprise to me)
8th grade student: I DON'T LIKE WARNING SLIPS!!! (not a surprise at all)

Others that I kept to myself remind me that you just never know what is REALLY going on with other people. You don't know what kind of impact you have. A personal challenge to take advantage of every opportunity (Eph 5:16).

Trusting the Prince of Peace,
Kari

Snow Days and Politics

2008-11-28T04:26:00.000-08:00

Most of you are familiar with the exciting snow days of the winter season. Students and teachers alike cross their fingers as they wait to see their school name scroll across the screen for a cancellation--or at least a delay. As you might have guessed, we don't get to many snow days here in Nigeria.

But political-related days are granted with the same amount of notice. As I was finishing getting ready for my Friday, my roommate received a call saying that classes were canceled today. I had a strange mixture of relief, wonder and fear. Part of my consciousness reverted to school-girl days when I peered out my window to find a freshly-laid blanket of snow that warmed my heart. However, another part of me went to a place I only heard about from 2001: the Jos Crisis (a time of rampant rioting and violence between the Christians and the Muslims in this area). My imagination could only wander.

For more facts, visit my sister's blog: renemarshall.blogspot.com

Last I heard, the violence is not near my compound or Rene's, but should it make its way down here, Hillcrest would be an ideal target, being an American Christian school. The smoky cloud from early morning tire-burning has lightened up a bit, but it still lingers the north end of the city. New smoke is rising from fires from burning churches and mosques. I just talked to a Nigerian man from the business office in the school, and he is concerned about the evening. Come nighttime, reinforcements may be brought in and plans may be made to target more people. He does not think this is something that will blow over in a day, rather it is likely to escalate.

It is 2:30 now and I'm still hearing gun shots; I have been since I woke up. The plan is to remain in the compound and get ahead on the lesson plans for next week's English. Meanwhile, darkness looms outside the walls and in the sky. Although the action is too far for me to really be worried for myself, I still sing "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God" and take comfort in His mighty name.

Please pray for peace and safety, for there are those who are out and vulnerable.

Eph 3:20,21 Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us,Unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus2424 throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.

Heb 7:25 Wherefore he is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them.

PS: tried yet againt to upload some pic so you could see this smoke, but something with my endearing computer just won't let me... =/

"Home is where your rump rests"

2008-11-20T11:29:00.000-08:00

Oh Pumba, the great philosopher (from The Lion King).

I was thinking today about the idea of “home.” Many people around me sing praises of Nigeria, of Africa; oh how they love it here! Sure, I’m enjoying myself and find the people endearing and the culture fascinating and fun. However, I don’t feel so strongly to say that THIS is where I am made to live my life. After more searching, I couldn’t find anything specific that I was missing or looking for. Rather, I can honestly say that I could see myself in any conceivable situation—for a time. I laugh, picturing me at the end of my life like the bridesmaid on 27 Dresses, owning a miniature wardrobe required for each stage of life during which I lived in a different part of the world. There is not a particular place where I dream of living. Further, I expect my life to be essentially the same no matter where I find myself because it will consist of simply loving and living out Christ, regardless of my occupation.

That leads me to wonder if I will ever make a home for myself or what I will call home in the end. At this point, I am not emotionally affected at this uncertainty. Being fresh out of university, I’m used of having two locations that are both my home: my dorm in Columbia, SC and my parent’s place in Brown Summit, NC. I have no problem, therefore, calling where I am living now as my home as much as Brown Summit is. (I’d like to make a disclaimer at this point to say that I am not pretending to fully understanding my MK and TCK friends, but it’s interesting how traveling can change you.)

This world is not my home, and yet, it has been given to me to enjoy and take care of. Perhaps shedding my nationality as my identification is the first step to feeling deeply the brotherhood of all men everywhere.

Looking to the Lord,
Kari
Eph 4:2-4 “With all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love, being diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”

PS: I couldn’t think of a good place to put this last thought—what better place than a p.s.? I firstly and ultimately love God, and He is my source of love for any group of people. Therefore, I choose to go to a place because I love God, not necessarily because I love that particular people more than any other. Otherwise, my loyalties would be skewed.

Time Warp

2008-11-06T12:49:00.000-08:00

Ever have the feeling that time has both stopped and sped up? I’m sitting here, looking back on the past month and amazed at how I lack a sense of time! I can assure that life has been eventful, but how could I possibly relate that to you?

My dearest sister has already recorded the pleasant camping/hiking trip we took with a group of singles. We trekked around Sheri Hills, a mountainous range that contains the highest point on the plateau. For those of you who won’t check out Rene’s blog (although, you would be missing out on a true treat), suffice it to say that we got lost several times, camped next to a 100ft waterfall, and had wonderful chats beside the campfire at night. We picked out trail names for each other, which, according to Rene, is a tradition for seasoned trail hikers. Since then, God has been teaching me plenty, plenty!

Among the more profound things, I discovered that I could—against popular belief—possibly play basketball! Who knew? I always assumed I was horribly inept at the sport. About a week ago, I was asked if I play basketball. Upon my firm, “Never a game in my life,” I was then asked if I could be an able body to scrimmage against our high school varsity team. “If you really are that desperate, then maybe you won’t be worse off having me on the court.” Consequently, I found myself on the court on Halloween night, still wondering how exactly I got myself in this position. I purposefully avoided conversation with my students about the upcoming event, hoping they would all have something better to do than watch the game. Who was I kidding? Half the school was there to witness my pending humiliation! I made the best of the night by pulling knowledge from every other sport that I can claim adequate skill in as well as a measure of lunacy that prompted me to make an absolutely ridiculous attempt at a goal at the last second of the first half. Picture a move that resembles something of a discus toss and a ballerina. I’m sure my students are stunned at how Miss Marshal can be two completely different people!

In other news, I attended my first Nigerian wedding. Four of us girls bought the same fabric so that we would all match—polar opposite idea from the American girls whose entire evening would be destroyed if they were caught wearing the same dress as another! I even got a headdress made to fit in with the Nigerians—right, like I blend in! The procession started in the church around 10:00am and I left the reception before it got started at 3:30. I was hot, tired, and mentally occupied with my responsibility to the classroom. I sincerely wanted to stay through it all (okay, I really wanted in on the dancing), the work I had to do was looming over my head. Besides being extremely long and in Hausa, the ceremony was characterized by special groups singing, a few congregational songs, a skit, sermon, and an offering during which the congregation dances down in front of the couple to give their financial gift. Other things that weren’t so familiar: EVERYONE got a scheduled picture with the newly weds; though the bridesmaids were listed, I couldn’t pick them out; the couple didn’t kiss for us; and reception was almost just as programmed as the ceremony—we had to sit down in rows of chairs. In spite of all that, the whole deal seemed familiar: we were in a church, most people had special attire, the bride wore white and the groom had a suit, there were flower girls, a preacher, and a cake-cutting at the reception.

This is Briska, me, and Dana entering the church...yes, we are dancing!

On the school front, all I can say is that it sure feels good when I’m doing something right! It’s been a Sherlock Holms game, at times, to figure out just what will trigger each student to desire and be able to learn. As I explore techniques, I’ve been clinging to 1 Cor 1:17-3:16. The main focus of the passage is to highlight God’s power rather than man’s wisdom or cleverness. It is my constant request that the Lord’s power is known, whether through my abilities or inabilities. I am constantly reminded that I’m not only teaching English, but also Christ and life with Him. So is EVERY believer’s profession.
Through “Christ, the power of God and the wisdom of God” (1 Cor 1:24),
Kari

Celebrations of the Month

2008-09-30T09:36:00.000-07:00

BIG hugs, cupcakes, and a beautiful hike. What more could I ask for, besides throwing a day with my sister in the mix? Such was my birthday—actually, the day before my birthday. Rene kidnapped me right after school, ordered me to change clothes, blindfolded me, and brought be to a screeching halt on the side of a back road to be surprised by a group of friends the Lord has blessed me with. From there, we piled in the back of a huge pick-up truck that any redneck would be proud to own to take us to the base of our destination. That ride was an adventure of its own because our driver paid little attention to the natural ditches and ramps in the road except to make the most of them with speed and jerks. It was like a rollercoaster without loops and the safety of equipment and good engineering! Finally I understood that Rene took me to Gog and Magog, the highest point in Jos. Halfway up, the crew (consisting of Dana, Marc, Kav, Matt, Ruth, Corine, and another Kiwi girl) unloaded the cupcakes and drinks. After nourishing our bodies with the goodness, we continued our trek to the top, which required climbing, crawling, squeezing, and jumping. This hike was intense enough to satisfy my restlessness, which was starving from being cooped up in a classroom all day for two months!

I woke up to the most welcomed surprise: Rene was in my house, making pancakes for breakfast! It was the first real breakfast I had had in about a month and, boy, was it delicious! My birthday was complete with my eighth and seventh grade students singing to me, my sixth grade practically dog piling me with hugs, and fairly agreeable behavior across the board. So, “Thanks!” to all who sent me birthday wishes; I certainly had a special one.

Some of you may know that Rene’s birthday recently passed as well (Sept 7^th). I don’t want to go without highlighting the festivities of that night as well. In honor of a strange fetish of hers, we created a pirate theme for her surprise party. She thought she was simply going to enjoy a dinner with a couple of her closest friends. Oh, but she deserves much more than that! We brought her to the designated friend’s house to be greeted by a slue of friends, ridiculously decked out in pirate garb—complete with eye-patches and bandanas! The evening closed with a viewing of the classic movie Hook. Again, loads of fun, made particularly special by the deep love of sisters and close friends.

Oh, can't forget about the Mulsim celebrations of Ramadan. All is over with no drama or even much excitement. All except that I was advised to not even go out on the roads on Monday because young crazies drive wrecklessly on their way to the mosque for the Sala prayers. They aren't hostile at all, just young and careless, which makes it a little dangerous. I decided to take his word for it, since my info was coming from an Nigerian, and if he thinks that driving is crazy, then I should take his advice! Stay tuned for Rene's blog. I'm sure she'll report her experience in Kono, where the famous Dubar is held. :)

More recently, I’ve been able to bond a little with my students through the love of soccer. Yes, Miss Marshall continues to “school” them, even on the soccer field! (For those of you, seasoned folk, to “school” someone is to demonstrate superior skill in a certain area.J) I hoping to use this as a springboard to break down barriers and give them opportunities to talk to me as a person rather than just a teacher. I just had a conversation with the assistant athletic director for Hillcrest, and his story affirms my plans to use soccer for the glory of God because that will buy me more respect in their eyes.

Talk about a celebration if I ever get to see God work in my students’ lives! By God’s grace, I grow fonder and fonder of them. Pray for wisdom, patience, and sincere love for them…if nothing else, God is at work in me!

Looking to the Lord,

Kari

PS: sorry about not having pictures...again. This time, my excuse is that my camara's batteries died. Another day, promise. :\

2008-09-06T09:59:00.000-07:00

Rachel Harley (a fellow teacher) and me through a partial aquaduct pipe

Here is a distant view of the platuea I live on

The valley and ariver...just plain pretty

Chin Up!

2008-09-05T11:50:00.000-07:00

I’ve been working on this thought for a while, now. This is not to say that I’ve perfected the idea, by any means. Simply put, I think we all should practice looking up more often. If we do, we could overlook many of life’s woes; however, if we don’t, then we could miss out on many of God’s blessings.

I went on a staff retreat last weekend, during which we all had the opportunity to relax, eat, bond, and hear God’s word preached. On my way to my house Friday and Saturday night, I was captivated by the nighttime sky. I’ve always had a fetish with the stars, but they never cease to carry a sense of supernatural mysticism. I slowed to a halt to stare in awe at the contrast of the twinkling diamonds against the dark expanse—and how limitless it was! The sky is a constant metaphor of our God: limitless and largely unexplored, mysterious and transcendent, and yet relevant and near.

That same Saturday morning, I stepped outside after breakfast to be greeted by a handful of noisy birds in the nearby palm trees. It took me a few minutes to acknowledge them, but I was so glad I did! They were a brilliant yellow, the size of a large raven, and performing a magnificent acrobatic act from branch to fruit. Again, I paused to behold their beauty. When was the last time I’ve stopped to behold my Lord’s beauty? Unfortunately, I am looking down all too often and miss the view.

Not surprising, these thoughts tie into what God has been teaching me all along: look at Me, your Lord! When I am stuck on my own inadequacies, worries, and plans, I miss out on the truths of His faithfulness, sovereignty, and indwelling power. I’m pretty sure we neglect these comforts as often as we ignore the beauties of the evening and morning. Just as pausing for a gaze at the sky and birds was relaxing, peeling my eyes off of myself and surrounding cares to fix them on the Lord is restful. Once I do this, then I can go on with newfound confidence and strength. I believe this is what the writer of Hebrews was referring to in Heb 12:1-3.

That said, a quick up-date on the teaching: God has shown Himself faithful to teach me and help me teach. He has also provided opportunities for me to constantly consult my fellow teachers for guidance, ideas, and affirmations. I needed them to speak some truth to me this week to help me heal from a self-bashing defeat. Even still, I am still enjoying where God has me! I am starting to build relationships with some of my girls outside of class time--pray that God uses that time to fill me with wisdom and love to impart to those delicate ones. Praise God!

2008-08-18T09:38:00.000-07:00

That famous quote aptly describes my past two weeks. Some of you may know that I am a bit of a perfectionist, and therefore hate to not have done a superb job at anything I do. That said, imagine me in front of a lesson plan book, which has the workload laid out for about 70 students for whom I am responsible. I felt the weight of that responsibility. Now fast-forward to more recently, I realized that 2 1/2 weeks' worth of planning is partially useless because the level and sequence I planned on teaching simply won't work with this age group. To say it briefly, I was a ball of frayed nerves.

But let's not forget how it has been "the best of times" as well! Throughout this period, darkened by dramatized dismay, there were patches of blissful light. The Lord had to remind me (quite often, in fact) that He is in control--of everything. I believe I touched up on that fact in my last blog, but it is a truth that is continually being renewed (as all truths should be). God has been faithful to provide comfort, assurance, and ability in subtle and ordinary ways, which is His usual style. Praise His name for answered prayer! School started on Wednesday (Aug 6th), and I found that I am in my element when I am in front of a classroom. When all is said and done, the Lord has filled my heart with love for those students and I want the best thing for them on all fields of their life. The sulking faces with the sour attitudes are just as endearing to me as the bright, smiling ones. I just can't wipe off my smile!

It is obvious to me that I have lots of prayers behind my back. Thank you for them all! Please continue because I know that the days are coming when I'm not going to feel quite so sure about my place in a school. During those times, I'm going to need assurance and encouragement to penetrate deeply past my own thoughts. Now I praise the Lord because I know He is faithful and knows what is ahead!

The pictures I promised...

2008-08-02T10:41:00.000-07:00

Packing to go...

Lots of rain. You can't see it well, but I had a little pond in front of my
door in just a few seconds of the great Nigerian rain.

My house...

Culture, Gratefulness, and REAL Power

2008-07-27T07:28:00.000-07:00

Na gode Allah!

Hausa for “I thank God!”

For a while, I was thinking that this “culture shock” thing was highly overrated for I haven’t experienced any yet. This may, in part, be due to having a knack for adapting easily, for outside of the distinct madness of driving and lack of many conveniences, I was beginning to think Nigeria will be easy. However, given just a little more time here, I’ve been able to witness that some ideas deeply ingrained in Nigerian culture are hard for me to fully understand.

For instance: titles. In the States, we have a loose system of corresponding positions, respect, and authority, but we are also heavily indoctrinated on the equality of man. Not quite so here. Professors are not friends outside of class with students, and high-ranking businessmen do not associate with lower-ranking businessmen as equal colleagues. What affects me is how this mindset applies to my house-help, Briska. At first, I thought she was simply extremely polite. This may be true, but what runs deeper is what she believes to be proper. She is older than me, yet completely submits herself and only upon my request, ventures to teach me anything. What a model to follow in my walk with Christ!

fds

Though, it will take me yet a bit longer to truly understand how she views me and our relationship, I gained insight into her mind the day after she went with me and another baturi (white girl) to the market. Briska said she was “privileged” to walk with me and hoped that her classmates saw us together. She continued to flow with gratitude for working for me and staying in the compound on occasion. May the Lord teach me such gratitude and humility

I also have also noticed the idea of marriage and children here. Last Sunday, I joined a group of first-time visitors at Evangelical Church of West Africa (ECWA) Plateau Church. The women who served us drinks and cookies introduced themselves with all the important info: their name, marital status, and how many children they have. Other talk since I’ve been here suggests the importance for women to be married and fruitful. I met two ladies who married at 13 and 15 years old; they both admitted that they were young. One woman explained to me that if a man foresees that a girl will be sought-after, he will pick her early to marry before anyone else gets the chance. Already cultural stuff from the Bible makes more sense.

I suppose I should wrap this entry up, but how about another plug for the Lord? My time here is as busy as I make it, and I keep bustling around in preparation for school. However, the alone time has been wonderful in allowing the Lord to teach and speak to me. I’ve been able to rethink mission work--how it should be thought of and done. Recently, I had a breakthrough in my lesson plans after a week of arduous, mind-reeling work. It was as if God was letting me know that anything good that comes out of me, even the talents and gifts I have, actually come from Him. How often do we rattle off these elementary truths, but rarely live them out practically? I have a feeling Nigeria’s going to make me put into practice some of the things I’ve always said.

Well, sai an’jima! (“Until Later”)

Looking to the Lord,

Kari

Arrival

2008-07-15T07:57:00.000-07:00

Sanu! (Greetings)

Praise God for so many things, starting with a safe, problem-free trip to Nigeria—including all of my bags! I brought several books in my carry-on, figuring I would have nearly two days of sitting, so I would catch up on my reading. I barely opened one of them because I found myself caught in conversations with some interesting people. All were pleasant and unique…I decided to spare the details…

My long layovers were also pleasant because I was able to meet up with a couple friends from College in Chicago and a travel buddy in Frankfurt who is staying in Jos for a month.

My arrival in Abuja, Nigeria was not nearly as chaotic or loud as I imagined it to be. Everyone remained in an orderly and quiet line to pass through customs. Few Nigerians wore their typical light-weight robs and loose pants; most had on western casual or business clothes. My interaction with the customs officers was particularly amusing. Apart from not knowing my exact address in Jos, the major issue the man had with me was my occupation. After asking in about 4 different ways where, what and whom I will be teaching, the officer was extremely irritated that I am in fact coming to teach NIGERIANS to speak English! After all, I clearly do not even speak English, but American. He explained that HE speaks English, not I. Up until this point, I was sure to keep a stern look and tone in my voice so as to present myself strong and unmovable in my intentions, but I was so amused that I couldn’t stop the smirk grow on my face. I assured the man that I would learn English and then teach it to the students. This seemed to appease him, so he let me go through!

I was informed several times that Abuja does not accurately characterize Nigeria. Of what I’ve seen of the country so far (I had a 3.5 hr drive from Abuja to Jos and a short walk around the area), it is comparable to most other third-world countries I’ve been. There are areas of lush, green, barely-touched forest, grass and clay huts, communities of small homes with tin roofs and clay or plaster walls really close together and near very large European homes with columns, venders on the side of the road that sell fruit and everything else in what looks like a kiosk we’d find in the mall, well-paved roads (so far), and CRAZY driving.

I had supper with the Headmaster of Hillcrest School last night and he has set me up with a different family every night this week to get acquainted. What a blessing!

Rene took me around the neighborhood to buy some groceries and explained to everyone we met that I am her sister and they all welcomed me with warm, smiling faces. Yes, I’m a bit overwhelmed, but full of anticipation. This is my new home.
“Everything incomprehensible does not cease to exist” Pascal Pensees (fragment # 230)

Getting the Ball Rolling

2008-06-26T19:08:00.000-07:00

For all those lucky people whom I told of my blog, you have reached the first post. I will be leaving for Jos, Nigeria July 12th to teach in a missionary school, Hillcrest. I will be teaching 6th-8th grade English. About half of my students will be locals. For the inquisitive types, here is a list of answers to inferred questions:
1. I will be living in a house with another (female) teacher. The house is on the campus, which is secure and safe.

2. I will be able to teach in English, so my class will be a middle school Language Arts class. Hillcrest operates like a western school (from what I understand) complete with athletics and plays. We adhere to the California State Standards.

3. Although Nigeria's national language is English, the heart langauge of people around us is Hausa. It is not necessary for me to learn it (and I certainly will not have the time to take langauge acquisition classes), but I will try to pick up as much as possible.

4. Nigeria is relatively safe...that is, relative to Sudan and Darfur and much of Africa. However, you won't see me running around the streets by myself. I will have to be careful, and safety will mean different things, I'm sure.

5. Food will be bought at a market (very much unlike the local grocery store). I will likely have a Nigerian helper to show me the way to do things. I will eat lots of fruit, rice, veggies, and the common soup they make. Meat will be hard to come by, but I will manage just fine.

6. How could I forget? Nigeria will be my home for 2 years. Yahoooo! Get ready, Nigeria!

I think that about does it for now. If you have any questions, let me know. I plan to keep you all posted at least once a month. My next one will be the day before I leave. Don't worry my visual friends, future posts will include pictures!

Looking to the Lord,
Kari