It’s been a killer first year here at Go. Serve. Love. We are passionately committed to equipping you to go there, serve him, and love them in Jesus’ name.
Where could God take you in 2019?
Scrolling through Facebook that day brought a bit of sadness, glimpsing all those photos of a white Christmas in Little Rock, of all places. I’d prayed for that so many times for my kids. Well, and myself.
But a few minutes later, I was playing Christmas music while I spread mayo for sandwiches. Some old lyrics belted out:Haul out the holly/ Put up the tree before my spirit falls again… And I realized, that was why I wanted to be there, enjoying the snow (not to mention the family!). I longed for the emotion of that holiday sparkle; the cozy magic that, with all the right elements, seems to frost everything with light and togetherness and fun, muting the rough edges.
Since 2015, Samantha Johnson has been part of a team with Africa Inland Mission among the Digo people of coastal Kenya, which are about 0.1% Christian. Since arriving, she and the team have been studying language and culture, as well as establishing relationships within the community in hopes of being able to speak Jesus’ Good News to the soul-needs of the Digo. For Samantha, this often looks like house visits, spending time with mamas, drinking chai with the locals, holding their babies, and taking part in village life.
As a kid, I remember begging my mom not to make me go to funerals—even of great aunts and family friends. Death and dead bodies?
MYTH: Don’t go unless you plan to stay for life.
Maybe you were corn-fed on stories of missionaries who brought their coffins with them, or like Amy Carmichael, said goodbye to their families and homelands for life. Now, we’re pretty sure you’re familiar with FaceTime, Kayak, Marco Polo, and all sorts of amenities shrinking your distance around the world. Your folks and friends may well come to visit you, and your parents won’t be kissing grandbabies goodbye for life.
This ain’t your mama’s mission field.
Moving to Africa was like seeing a new version of my husband.
Sure; in some ways it aged us and strained us in ways we could have never experienced. But it was also extremely cool to see my husband as the guy tooling around an African metropolis, learning to navigate the streets to care for his family. I would have never anticipated the overwhelming generosity he possessed; the crazy-cool gifts of cultural understanding and helping Africans through heartbreaking conflicts and difficulties. What if I’d never seen the African version of him? And as I at last realized my dream of moving overseas, we laughed out loud about the “Afro-disiac” it was for our marriage!
And as C.S. Lewis has written, Faith is the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted in spite of your changing moods.
All of us encounter those days where we’re thinking, if he throws his socks beside the hamper one more time, I am going to tell him exactly where he should put them. Or, Honey, I get hormones. But does PMS really last all month?
BY CARL BUSER, RADIUS INTERNATIONAL ALUMNUS
That was the last straw. I’m done with this country. I’m ready to punch this guy in the face, I said to myself silently.
One more time, I spoke slowly–patiently, even–into the phone. “Sir, please, just make the sandwich like you always do. Except this time, just don’t put mayo on it, like I asked. It’s the same sandwich! It’s just that in the process, mayo won’t be added!”
“I am sorry sir, but we do not do custom orders. We do not accept returns or refunds either.”
Amy Medina writes compellingly of the seasons of overseas life. At the beginning,
the remnants of your old life stay with you for a long time. At first, keeping in touch with your friends back at home is a big priority. You get lots of packages in the mail. You grieve the loss of all that you left behind. But you are excited to be in this new place you dreamed about for so long, and that excitement keeps you going for a while. After the honeymoon wears off–which could happen in a week or a year–then it just takes grit. A lot of grit. As in, I’m going to grit my teeth and stay here even though I hate it.
Want to hear the happy ending? Guess you’ll have to click here.