tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3855789914938867922024-03-14T11:19:39.597+03:00KJ's blogKJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.comBlogger125125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-56412680864945827282018-01-07T21:51:00.002+03:002018-01-07T21:52:07.909+03:00Don’t lose weight and eat more fat?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We’ve all heard the dietary advice to reduce fat, sugar and
salt and increase fibre. We’re all aware that obesity is on the increase and we
are told this is a bad thing. I’ve just been reading a couple of interesting
nutrition articles (yes, once in a while I hark back to my nutritionist days
and read some research) that challenge some of my prior knowledge and even the
advice that I have given people in the past. Much of what I read was familiar,
but some new angles on it came to light.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So, we think we need to reduce fat. But what does that
actually mean? The research actually shows that it is not so much about
reducing fat in our diet as it is about increasing a particular kind of fat –
polyunsaturated fatty acids (also known as PUFAs) and within that especially
what is known as ‘n-3’ and ‘n-6’ fatty acids. It seems that if we really want
to reduce risk factors for heart disease and diabetes, we should concentrate on
increasing PUFAs in our diet rather than focusing on cutting back saturated and
monounsaturated fats.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So, where can PUFAs be found? Good sources include vegetable
oils, nuts, seeds (for all three of
these some are better sources of n-6 and n-3 than others), avocados and oily
fish (like salmon, herring or tuna). Typically if you are trying to lose
weight, you might avoid these foods due to their fat content, but it is probably
more to your advantage to increase these foods in your diet than it is to lose
weight! Much to my chagrin I have been reading that being overweight can even
increase life-expectancy, rather than decrease it (though this doesn’t mean
that if you are happily slim I am about to advocate a weight-gain program) –
what is more important is behavioural patterns and the kinds of foods we eat,
rather than our actual size.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PfAFgsvqHnA/WlJqDUAfzCI/AAAAAAAABWw/8_rt0qh1Ks4FGzmsGH2i7Ck7Ijhx6KxuACLcBGAs/s1600/WholeGrains2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="800" height="177" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PfAFgsvqHnA/WlJqDUAfzCI/AAAAAAAABWw/8_rt0qh1Ks4FGzmsGH2i7Ck7Ijhx6KxuACLcBGAs/s320/WholeGrains2.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Also, if you reduce fats but just end up increasing refined
carbohydrates to replace them you could possibly be making things worse. Instead,
when eating carbohydrates, make sure that you are having them in the form of
whole grains, vegetables and fruits. If you are familiar with the Glycaemic
Index, you want to focus on low GI rather than high GI carbs. These foods can
all have a positive impact on your health.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Coming back to the issue of size. While ‘normal’ weight
people have lower levels of disease, there currently isn’t any real proof that
if an overweight person loses weight, they reduce their disease risk. What
seems to be more important is adjusting behaviour rather than size. In fact,
many people who try to lose weight often end up putting it back on again, and
then trying to lose it again, and it becomes something of a cycle. It seems
that this constant up and down is more harmful than staying a consistent
weight, harmful for both your body and emotional state!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uG747dCP9DE/WlJrcBDPdvI/AAAAAAAABW8/teK2gsZqa6QhyU1wdOnpfow65jyXAinWgCLcBGAs/s1600/avo2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="116" data-original-width="160" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uG747dCP9DE/WlJrcBDPdvI/AAAAAAAABW8/teK2gsZqa6QhyU1wdOnpfow65jyXAinWgCLcBGAs/s1600/avo2.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In summary, if you want to improve your health and reduce
disease risk, focus on what you can increase rather than on what you can decrease.
Focus <i>less</i> on losing weight and<i> more</i> on listening to your body and
mind, taking note of how food affects your mood, concentration, energy levels,
fullness, hunger, ease of bowel movement and appetite. Enjoy your food! Focus <i>less</i> on reducing fat and calories and <i>more </i>on eating yummy foods like nuts,
seeds, avocados, oily fish, wholegrains, fruit and vegetables. And finally,
don’t forget to stay active – another vital ingredient for healthy living. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b>Let’s be amazed over our incredible bodies. Every cell is a
miracle – beautifully designed! I like to remember that we are all wonderfully
created, formed and fashioned by a God who loves us without partiality. So,
here’s to more yummy food!! </b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>P.S. The above comments are based on the two articles listed
below. These articles look at a vast range of studies and compare and contrast
them to see what common threads emerge. If you look on the internet you will
find a load of people saying opposing things, and it’s true that advice changes
as new research emerges and what I have written may need adapting in ten years’
time, but let’s be careful who we believe!<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Bacon, L. & Aphramor, L. (2011) Weight Science:
Evaluating the Evidence for a Paradigm Shift. </i>Nutrition Journal <i>10:9<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<i><br /></i>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Liu, A. et al.
(2017) A healthy approach to dietary fats: understanding the science and taking
action to reduce consumer confusion. </i>Nutrition Journal<i> 16:53</i></span><o:p></o:p></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-86336736258046156562017-12-19T21:10:00.000+03:002017-12-19T21:10:54.935+03:00An African at heart?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A couple of weeks ago the church I attend in Mbeya, Majengo
Baptist, celebrated the induction of a new pastor. After coming back from a
trip, I discovered I had been appointed a member of the organising committee! I cynically assumed I was appointed because I am wealthy (in the eyes of people
here), and all committee members had to contribute money to the costs of the
event. But to be fair, I have never been asked to be on a committee before and
I have attended the church for a good number of years, so although this may
have been a contributing factor, I’m sure it wasn’t the only reason; they probably
just thought it was about time I took my turn!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When I first found out I was on the committee and they
explained about needing to make a contribution, I asked to see the budget so
that I could understand how the costs were being worked out. Most of the budget
was for food. They were anticipating catering for around 300 people! The event
would be held in the new church building (on the same plot of land as the
current church), which at the moment is little more than a roofless shell but
is significantly bigger than our current building, so money was also needed to
hire plastic chairs (to supplement all the wooden pews that were moved there
from the current church) and to decorate the stage area. People were also asked
to bring any tarpaulin they had to create some kind of covering against either
sun or rain (thankfully it didn’t rain). The budget seemed reasonable, except
for the oil. They had included 20 litres of cooking oil! I confess I couldn’t
hold back the nutritionist in me and suggested they reduce it. Lo and behold,
at the next committee meeting (the only one I actually succeeded in attending),
they announced what I had said, agreed to reduce it and joked that I should
teach them how to cook using less oil! I was somewhat embarrassed but it was all
in good fun, and I think they did reduce it a tiny bit as I think they ‘only’
bought 15 litres in the end. The rest of the meeting seemed to be about who
hadn’t paid their contributions yet, whether we should serve chicken to the
important guests and what colour clothes we should wear to show we were the committee members. Like committee meetings the world
over, it seemed to take very long time to achieve very little!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uZoZIYosa7A/WjlVPLuH41I/AAAAAAAABWM/q7OolvmaAXgh8be13z_KU4ztH5tvKhiHACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_20171209_093816181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="1024" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uZoZIYosa7A/WjlVPLuH41I/AAAAAAAABWM/q7OolvmaAXgh8be13z_KU4ztH5tvKhiHACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_20171209_093816181.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The day (a Saturday) came and I turned up around 9am to help
with the food prep. I came armed with a chopping board, knife and potato peeler
as I had a hunch they might come in handy, as well as a kanga (local cloth) to
wrap around me for an apron. Other than the fact I was told I shouldn’t use a
kanga that is mostly white when working in the kitchen, I seemed to fit in. I
set to peeling and chopping carrots. A small group of children soon gathered
round me – they all know me as I have taught most of them in Sunday school.
They were fascinated by the peeler and were soon taking it in turns to peel the
carrots while I was busy chopping. They were also fascinated by how fast I
chopped – that’s the benefit of using a board (which I have never seen a
Tanzanian using). We sat outside on some steps as we worked away. The other
helpers seemed to get a kick out of seeing me there, and enjoyed how I was
learning to do things their way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After the carrots it was peppers. We had some good maths
lessons as we went, as they counted out how many slices of peppers I was
cutting, and then we did some subtraction and a bit of English. Next was a big
basket of tomatoes (at which point I had to move to a shady spot, as I was in
the direct sun and it was strong). Finally I helped grate some ginger (by which
point I had a nice fat blister on my finger). After that there didn’t seem to
be much else I could do, so I wandered over to where the induction service was
in full swing and listened in to a visiting pastor preach for a bit. It was
great to hear him switch briefly into the Nyakyusa language and promote the
Nyakyusa Bible! (This is one of the languages that we are working with – we
hope the New Testament will be published in 2018).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-epFJ-6VtmVE/WjlVPQLQc6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/H1pVxlKlSy8YIHpTolCy7JSPwT7YR4P0wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_20171209_120125827_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="1024" height="180" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-epFJ-6VtmVE/WjlVPQLQc6I/AAAAAAAABWQ/H1pVxlKlSy8YIHpTolCy7JSPwT7YR4P0wCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_20171209_120125827_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Finally the service was over after much singing and dancing
around the newly inducted pastor and the giving of gifts (of which there seemed
to be a lot, including things like new suits for him to wear). I was assigned
to help serve the important people (the pastors), who ate in the pastor’s office
and the Sunday school room, but I soon realised I wasn’t really needed there,
so I went to help serve the long queue of people outside. There was rice,
cooked bananas, beans, beef and a hot chili sauce and the inevitable sodas. I
had already eaten (I was urged to do so before we started serving, as others
involved in cooking were also doing, otherwise we’d be eating very late after everything
was over). The queue went on and on, I’m sure some people there had essentially
come for a free meal rather than because they cared about the induction
service. The children were all made to wait until last which, on reflection, is
the exact opposite of what seems to happen at celebrations in England!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And then the dish washing began. Piles of plates to wash in
buckets (on the floor, being filled from an outside tap), with an old bit of
sacking as the dishcloth. The plates were very greasy and the water was cold,
so even after washing with lots of soap and rinsing, they still felt greasy! I
helped with this for a while, but it seems that dish-washing is what the
younger girls (teenagers) are supposed to do, so I was able to hand it over,
which is a good job as my back couldn’t take much more bending in awkward
positions! </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">After making sure all the plates had been gathered, it
seemed like there was little more I could do, so I said goodbyes and started to
head off, but before I had got very far one of the ladies asked if she could
borrow my knife and board to cut up a chicken. It turned out there was a whole cooked
chicken left, and some rice, and so now it was the committee members’ turn to
get a treat (i.e. chicken meat) and have a soda.</span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SNLav1Zdgzc/WjlVPa0YloI/AAAAAAAABWU/A5_9-wipUO83dAi5nw7qHXoBzv666YTYgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_20171209_112718292.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="956" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SNLav1Zdgzc/WjlVPa0YloI/AAAAAAAABWU/A5_9-wipUO83dAi5nw7qHXoBzv666YTYgCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_20171209_112718292.jpg" width="257" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It had been a long day and this is a long blog! And I haven’t
even mentioned the smokey wood fires, the massive cooking pots, eating rice
with hands (the rice being so <o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">greasy that it sticks together), the need to add purifying
tables to the pre-meal hand-washing water due to the current outbreak of
cholera in the region and my sunburn!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The next day the new pastor thanked me for helping, and told
me people had asked him if I had been born in Africa! Someone else commented
that though I am an ‘mzungu’ on the outside (i.e. I have white skin) I am an
African at heart! While unfortunately this isn’t really true (I am all too
aware of how often I don’t know how to behave in this culture and how different
my thinking can be), I took it as huge complement, and I thank God that in so
many ways I do feel that this is my home and that I am an accepted part of the
church family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I reflected on the whole event, I was struck by how on
one level it is just like an induction service in England – with visiting
pastors, lots of guests, a church service, food and a busy team of people in
the background making it all run smoothly. But on another level it was so
totally different, from cooking outside over wooden fires to dancing with gifts
up to the pastor to brightly coloured cloth bedecking the stage to the absolute
necessity of sodas being provided (maybe that’s not so different from the
absolute necessity of a British church providing cups of tea)!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It was certainly an experience I won’t forget, and I pray
that I may continue to serve as part of the body of Christ in Majengo Baptist
Church, as God leads me, despite the deep cultural differences that sometimes
threaten to overwhelm me and make ‘church’ something I sometimes find very hard
to attend. Please pray with me that this church might grow in maturity, that
the new pastor would grow in wisdom, that God’s Word would be taught faithfully
and that as a body we might be “</span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">growing
in every way more and more like Christ, who is the head of his body, the church”
(Ephesians 4:15 NLT).</span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-77959260579788311462017-06-02T16:26:00.001+03:002017-06-02T16:26:51.292+03:00A wonderful opportunity or a waste of time?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>“The pastor will meet us in Mbalizi at 8.30am.” </i>I picked up
my two Tanzanian colleagues en route and arrived in Mbalizi at precisely
8.30am. The pastor was, indeed, already there, but he hadn’t expected <i>us</i> to be on time! He still had some
shopping to do and the shop he needed to go to was still shut. While we waited,
he invited us all to a little café to get breakfast. I declined to eat what the
others chose – chicken, stock (with flat globules floating attractively on top)
and chapattis (greasy but yummy). I couldn’t quite stomach that for breakfast and
was glad I’d already had my porridge! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We had been invited to teach at a seminar in a village
church in the Malila language area. The pastor was a former student of mine,
someone I had taught at Southern Bible College (Tanzania Assemblies of God),
and who was keen for me to visit his church and teach. He had got in touch with
me through one of his fellow students, Oscar, who now works with us as a Bible
translator. So Oscar came along too, together with Heri, a Malila colleague who
would be able to teach people how to read their language.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gRyiJmW-wKQ/WTFm4kwA03I/AAAAAAAABV0/jj5FRydfV6cBjzsfaUJvdmhlt1e8r8uUQCLcB/s1600/Blog%2B1b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="618" data-original-width="888" height="222" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gRyiJmW-wKQ/WTFm4kwA03I/AAAAAAAABV0/jj5FRydfV6cBjzsfaUJvdmhlt1e8r8uUQCLcB/s320/Blog%2B1b.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We finally left Mbalizi at the time I thought the seminar
was supposed to start! The village proved to be further from the main road than
we had anticipated (a good 40 minute drive), and the road was quite rough and
included a somewhat rickety bridge! However, we travelled safely, even if my
car did get covered in dust (inside and out).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We had been told that we would have a morning and evening
session on Saturday, an opportunity to preach in the Sunday morning service and
another session on Sunday evening. We prepared to teach a number of topics: The
importance of reading the Bible so that we can grow spiritually; how to read
the Bible carefully and meditate on it; Bible overview; the need to love and value
our children and teach them God’s Word; how to read the Malila language. We did
indeed have all three sessions, however, over half of each session turned out
to be choirs singing, so I had a lot less time than anticipated to teach! The
choirs sang and danced with gusto and the sound system was loud – I found
stuffing toilet paper in my ears helped make the volume bearable. My favourite
songs were the ones sung without the sound system, where I was actually able to
understand the words rather than them being drowned out by the music. By the
end of two days I felt like I had spent a disproportionate amount of time
sitting around compared to teaching. Each day we spent a good hour getting
there and another hour getting home (after an unnerving drive in the dark). Each
day I was in the village for about eight hours, but was only teaching for a
couple of those. It felt like a very inefficient use of my time. But was it? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tjmkJirlN3Q/WTFm4dx0kVI/AAAAAAAABVw/92mmBbYU4SgbfKPwGJnm-GKSUeVdEO--ACLcB/s1600/Blog%2B1a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="666" data-original-width="1024" height="208" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tjmkJirlN3Q/WTFm4dx0kVI/AAAAAAAABVw/92mmBbYU4SgbfKPwGJnm-GKSUeVdEO--ACLcB/s320/Blog%2B1a.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There were up to a hundred people there, from more than one
church, who seemed to engage well. We were warmly welcomed by all, food was
provided for everyone and all our expenses were covered. They even gave us a
gift towards the project as well as a large sack of peanuts and another of
maize. The pastor said more than once that he wants me to go back and teach for
a whole week next year, though I find it hard to know whether the enthusiasm is
to do with my white skin (which is very rarely seen there and so sadly people often
see us as something of an attraction and even as superior) or a genuine desire
for the things I teach, so I might be declining that invitation! However, usually<i> we</i> are the ones arranging workshops,
encouraging churches to get on board, struggling to get people to contribute to
the costs and therefore covering most of the costs ourselves. While this has
the advantage of us being able to do things as we want (from setting the schedule
to inviting participants from multiple denominations) and being necessary in
new situations where we’re not known, it was refreshing this time to be invited
and provided for. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So was it a waste of time? I don’t think so. But I do have
to frequently remind myself that God’s economy is different to humans’, and
trust that He can and will multiply the work of our hands.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-75603336076977880152017-05-10T20:28:00.000+03:002017-05-10T20:28:10.205+03:00Not alone<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">You have heard a lot about what I do here in Tanzania, so now
it’s time I introduced you to some of my colleagues and helped you get a feel
for the scope of Scripture Engagement work in Mbeya. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7rNZhn-wSjU/WRK1NLwyFqI/AAAAAAAABVc/bnM3Q9gCcSIy3Ryj0CCk6GHbkHuFb1q8wCLcB/s1600/P1050558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="157" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7rNZhn-wSjU/WRK1NLwyFqI/AAAAAAAABVc/bnM3Q9gCcSIy3Ryj0CCk6GHbkHuFb1q8wCLcB/s200/P1050558.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jo records some Safwa singers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Jo (a British lady) specialises in making audio and audio-visual Scripture
products available to people in their language, as many people prefer this way
of engaging with Scripture, and some people can’t read. This week she is going
to the Bungu language area to record local people reading Ruth and Jonah in
their language. Once she has finished editing the recordings, we hope to
distribute them via phones, CDs, radio and solar-powered audio devices.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Konga & Heri are kept busy supervising the literacy and Scripture
Engagement (SE) workers who live in their language areas. They themselves were
once literacy & SE workers in their own language areas – they did such a
good job that we invited them to come and work in our main office in Mbeya to
support their colleagues. They are frequently travelling to visit their colleagues,
to encourage and advise them and help them teach workshops. We primarily
conduct two kinds of workshops – one is to train Sunday school teachers in
interactive ways to teach children the Bible (this often includes teaching them
to read their language so that they can use local language Bible resources with
the children) and the other is to train leaders in churches to read their
language and prepare and lead Bible studies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Frank (Tanzanian), Karin (German), Alison (American), Gift
(Tanzanian) and Baraka (Tanzanian) focus primarily on literature production and
literacy training, but their work often overlaps with Scripture Engagement, as books
and literacy (as well as Jo’s audio and visual resources) are all essential to
helping people engage with Scripture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-daOAPqvvtf4/WRK01rjAqsI/AAAAAAAABVY/d41rrsaTGF0KYgXzouEHOcKWgC0-y-mSQCLcB/s1600/16.03.18%2BIfisi%2Bzoo%2Bgroup%2B%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-daOAPqvvtf4/WRK01rjAqsI/AAAAAAAABVY/d41rrsaTGF0KYgXzouEHOcKWgC0-y-mSQCLcB/s640/16.03.18%2BIfisi%2Bzoo%2Bgroup%2B%25283%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Literacy & SE colleagues (photo taken 2016, a couple more people have joined the team since then)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Prisca, Mwangunga, Mwangosi, Sambwe, Ngwatta, Nsolelo,
Amani, Nzowa, Pitrosi, Majaliwa and Nyambo live further afield – they are the
Literacy / Scripture Engagement workers who live and work in their language
areas. They are involved in advocacy, teaching people to read their language,
leading Bible studies and groups for listening to audio Scriptures and training
others to do the same. They have a challenging task! Some have taken bold
initiatives. Nsolelo & Amani recently started up two ladies’ football teams
in Amani’s village, Mshewe. Before practising, the young ladies meet to learn
to read their Safwa language and study the Bible together! A couple of other
neighbouring villages have also started teams, led by Safwa literacy teachers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DZJNnjSCJeM/WRK1c11rzoI/AAAAAAAABVg/oPrIUjDynecl941FVbMUkOc46q0H30OQQCLcB/s1600/17.05.01%2BMshewe%2BYoung%2Bladies%2527%2Bfootball%2Bteam%2Bwith%2Bliteracy%2B%2526%2BBible%2Bstudy%2B%25288%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DZJNnjSCJeM/WRK1c11rzoI/AAAAAAAABVg/oPrIUjDynecl941FVbMUkOc46q0H30OQQCLcB/s400/17.05.01%2BMshewe%2BYoung%2Bladies%2527%2Bfootball%2Bteam%2Bwith%2Bliteracy%2B%2526%2BBible%2Bstudy%2B%25288%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Young ladies playing football in Mshewe</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">These are just the people directly involved in Scripture
Engagement here in the Mbeya Cluster Project. There are so many more who are
essential to the overall goal of seeing people engaging with God’s Word in
their language and being transformed by it. I haven’t even mentioned the
translators, linguists, IT specialists, administrators and others involved!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So, I’m not alone in this work! I have my own specific role to
play, but I am very much a part of a broader team, and it is my privilege to
work alongside these people. Please pray that God would direct our steps and
that we would work together well, with God as our ultimate leader and teacher.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-39014922993112775722017-02-05T17:26:00.000+03:002017-02-05T17:26:23.137+03:00Laugh or cry?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Coming back to Tanzania after four months in England meant
that certain aspects of living here became freshly frustrating – sometimes it
can be hard to know whether to laugh or cry. But then there’s other things that
I see that give me a good giggle, where a local person wouldn’t notice anything
strange. So here’s a few things that I’ve smiled about during my time here:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ul><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7cCq6P4ycZM/WJc0uUdjSVI/AAAAAAAABU0/ioyOPv88gSoAYuQo66HQNLC10OxwMHrdACLcB/s1600/15.09.05%2BWedding%2Bof%2BOmali%2B%2B%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W8MRRPX3Z0c/WJc0uMnDjII/AAAAAAAABUw/2twqw8AtCogbyC4UBh35-C-y6r-xe-aogCLcB/s1600/15.03.31%2BOn%2Bthe%2Bback%2Bof%2Ba%2Bbike_pig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W8MRRPX3Z0c/WJc0uMnDjII/AAAAAAAABUw/2twqw8AtCogbyC4UBh35-C-y6r-xe-aogCLcB/s200/15.03.31%2BOn%2Bthe%2Bback%2Bof%2Ba%2Bbike_pig.jpg" width="168" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7cCq6P4ycZM/WJc0uUdjSVI/AAAAAAAABU0/ioyOPv88gSoAYuQo66HQNLC10OxwMHrdACLcB/s1600/15.09.05%2BWedding%2Bof%2BOmali%2B%2B%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7cCq6P4ycZM/WJc0uUdjSVI/AAAAAAAABU0/ioyOPv88gSoAYuQo66HQNLC10OxwMHrdACLcB/s320/15.09.05%2BWedding%2Bof%2BOmali%2B%2B%25282%2529.JPG" width="124" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7cCq6P4ycZM/WJc0uUdjSVI/AAAAAAAABU0/ioyOPv88gSoAYuQo66HQNLC10OxwMHrdACLcB/s1600/15.09.05%2BWedding%2Bof%2BOmali%2B%2B%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">How do you tie back the curtains in church? Pringle tubes
cut up to make loops!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">How do you transport your pig? On the back of a motorbike!
In fact, I would love to have my camera ready in time to snap pics of the many
things I have seen on the backs of push bikes and motorbikes, from armchairs to
trays of eggs piled high to baskets of live chickens.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">While many younger people here follow the fashions we may
follow in England (especially university students), there are some who have a uniquely
Tanzanian dress sense. There’s the bright printed fabric trouser suits, the
shiny lilac suit a colleague of mine wears (replete with shiny pointed shoes)
or the man I saw walking to church today wearing a bright pink t-shirt, shiny
pink trousers and pink shoes. I think they find our way of dressing often
rather too casual – I certainly get the most complements from Tanzanians when I
am wearing one of my locally made outfits.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Who should be in class first – the student or the teacher?
At a workshop I was teaching on for colleagues, a student ran ahead of me to
reach our room first, as it’s not good for the teacher to be the first to turn
up! (I wish this happened in our village workshops though, where everyone is
happy to be an hour or more late!)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I went to a local shop (situated on the grounds of the
prison) to pick up a few items and suppressed a laugh when my shopping was
packed into…wait for it…ASDA bags!!! Where did they come from?!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Have you ever seen a rain frog? Little things that puff up
and give off quite a croak. They’re hilarious.</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And here’s some times when I don’t know whether to laugh or
cry:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Getting back from a couple of weeks away to find that all my
rice flour has gone mouldy. As I try to avoid wheat, and therefore have to
arrange for rice flour to be ground rather than just going to a shop to buy
some, this could have made me cry. But then I have to smile too – I’d never
have had to spread my flour out on a sheet to dry out before using it in
England! And the neighbours’ kids happened to be visiting when I discovered the
problem, so one of them emptied out the flour, another cleaned out the tub and
then we played Uno! It’s impossible to be upset surrounded by excited children.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Discovering some lush chocolates a friend sent have
strangely melted and become infested with bugs. This has only ever happened once
here, but why did it happen to this particular form of chocolate?! Bugs, bugs,
bugs – we are often chasing cockroaches, swatting flies or sifting weevils out
of flour. However, I recently spent some time in a town near Lake Victoria, and
I suddenly realised how fortunate I was to live in Mbeya. Our cockroaches are
slim, smallish, brown things, while theirs were big and black. We only get ants
round our waste food bin, they have them running in a constant stream across
work surfaces, however clean they might be.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Back in Mbeya I pulled on my sandals for my first day’s walk
to work. As my feet quickly became dirty from the combination of wet grass and
dirt footpaths, I remembered that I had been choosing to wear walking shoes
rather than sandals to go to work. I feel like I never have clean feet here,
but I do rather like wandering around bare foot!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Water pressure – another frustration. Often the pressure isn’t
high enough for my electric shower to turn on, so I have a cold dribble of
water to bathe in. The strange (and good) thing is that my housemate’s shower
doesn’t seem to have this problem, so when I just can’t face the cold dribble,
I use her shower. I really need to get someone out to look at it, but finding
good plumbers who turn up on time is as much of a challenge here as in England!</span></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And so I am settling back into life in Mbeya, with plenty to laugh over if only I have eyes to see it, so much human and divine creativity to make me smile. And in those times when it all just feels too much, I know that God knows what it’s like to suffer and He sees my struggles, and tomorrow is a new day.</span><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3aZqJN14vns/WJc0wMhyHWI/AAAAAAAABU8/dDkb7_dN9FMlO5z5-piC0L7T5yqQetsgACLcB/s1600/17.01.27-8%2BMusoma%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3aZqJN14vns/WJc0wMhyHWI/AAAAAAAABU8/dDkb7_dN9FMlO5z5-piC0L7T5yqQetsgACLcB/s320/17.01.27-8%2BMusoma%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amazing rock formations (Musoma, near Lake Victoria, north Tanzania)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mcKovb0GJTc/WJc0vwFNeoI/AAAAAAAABU4/08R7u2BCOJwys3Xz7p7yg2vcRLduIOoYACLcB/s1600/IMG_20170130_173457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mcKovb0GJTc/WJc0vwFNeoI/AAAAAAAABU4/08R7u2BCOJwys3Xz7p7yg2vcRLduIOoYACLcB/s320/IMG_20170130_173457.jpg" width="188" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying colouring truths about God</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-63640246927104719682016-08-14T16:43:00.000+03:002016-08-14T16:46:00.153+03:00A village workshop <div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Last week I was helping to teach a workshop in a village in
the Safwa language area. The workshop was aimed at leaders in churches (pastors
or leaders of groups) to enable them to read their Safwa language and to lead a
simple Bible study using the Safwa Scriptures. We had been asked some time ago
to do a workshop in the area and we hoped we would have a number of local
churches represented. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Although the village was less than
ten miles from Mbeya city, nearly eight of those were on very rough dirt roads,
so that it took nearly an hour to make the journey. I felt sorry for the people
we (my Safwa colleague and I) passed as the car left behind clouds of dust on
the dry roads.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When we arrived we went to the
pastors’ home and sat in his house for some time. It seemed that this workshop
was going to start even later than usual! I soon discovered that everyone spoke
Safwa, as I hardly heard a word of Swahili (the national language of Tanzania)
and the children were also using Safwa. This actually surprised me, as in many of
the places we go to we find that Swahili is used by younger people and children
and it has led me to question the value of Bible translation, but here was a
situation where the Safwa Scriptures could genuinely benefit the local church.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We finally started a few hours
late, spending most of the first day focusing on learning to read the Safwa
language. We had about a dozen people that day, most of whom were leaders in
some capacity, though only a couple were actually pastors and only a couple of
churches were represented, which was discouraging.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The second day we only started
about an hour late, which is more typical. The aim of the second day was to
learn how to lead a simple Bible study in Swahili or Safwa. However, the
participants had changed – many had returned, though not all, and some new
ladies had joined us who did not have any leadership position and several of
whom were illiterate. We struggled through the day – I had to take out chunks
of my teaching and simplify things considerably and left feeling exhausted from
being surrounded by a language I couldn’t speak and from trying to figure out how
to adapt the materials I’d prepared.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The final day I knew what to
expect so things went better. For example, this time when we did a Bible study
we did the whole thing in two languages, Swahili and Safwa, so that everyone
could understand, including me! Also, when we split people into pairs to
practise teaching each other to read Safwa, I took the ladies who couldn’t read
outside and we listened to the book of Ruth in Safwa and talked about it. By
the end, it seemed that people were excited to use their language more and many
had bought Mark’s gospel and one or two other books in Safwa. We also left an
audio device with the pastor so that people could borrow it to listen to the
Safwa Scriptures.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This workshop both excited and
frustrated me. I was excited by the evident need for Safwa Scriptures, but
frustrated because there are so many barriers to making these Scriptures
accessible to them (from literacy levels to geographical location). Please pray
for these people and our work in these areas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Coming back to the city was almost a shock. Although so close by, the village had felt like a totally different world.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6V1EY1ldYnw/V7Bypy35pBI/AAAAAAAABUI/TFmlIasUp2ogvzQVqqh24zvLk3sxEH5AwCLcB/s1600/16.08.11%2BNsenga%2B%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6V1EY1ldYnw/V7Bypy35pBI/AAAAAAAABUI/TFmlIasUp2ogvzQVqqh24zvLk3sxEH5AwCLcB/s640/16.08.11%2BNsenga%2B%25283%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">Break time - getting some much needed sunshine! Still keenly reading their Safwa books.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b>What’s it like there? A few
observations to paint the picture:<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ul><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9DS0jGWHlIw/V7ByuSnavyI/AAAAAAAABUM/DJhoL3nEjDULiDxuIOP4l0kzt6_8EVXUwCLcB/s1600/16.08.11%2BNsenga%2B%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9DS0jGWHlIw/V7ByuSnavyI/AAAAAAAABUM/DJhoL3nEjDULiDxuIOP4l0kzt6_8EVXUwCLcB/s1600/16.08.11%2BNsenga%2B%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a>
<li><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We passed a school on the way, the
children were all outside hoeing the ground and we passed others on their way
to school with hoe over their shoulder. I wonder how much time they actually
spend in the classroom and how many pupils there are in each class. It is not
uncommon to have over a 100 pupils to a teacher.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I heard that it is only recently
that a primary school has been built in the area. This explains why so many of
the ladies couldn’t read.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">At another school we passed, one
classroom was half-knocked down – the blackboard was on the outside wall –
obviously the students would just have to sit outside to learn.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There is no electricity, though a
few people have solar panels.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When I asked how many people had
had breakfast (at least a cup of tea) that morning (as part of an illustration
I was making), only two people raised their hands. No wonder they could eat
such a mountain of food at lunchtime, as they had probably been working on
their farms before coming to the workshop and not had anything to eat. I usually
ate less than a quarter of what they ate! (I tried not to think about the
several litres of oil they used to cook our rice, beans and greens!)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Everywhere bricks were out drying –
it is the dry season so it is time to build.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There were sacks of potatoes
outside – it’s a cold, windy place at this time of year, a good climate for
growi</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-align: center;">ng potatoes. Their other main crop is maize. There are no shops anywhere
near and they don’t farm a wide variety of foods, so their diet is very basic.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We gave a lift to a couple of
ladies and their heavy bags of maize, taking them to the nearest mill to grind their
maize into flour to make ugali (the most common dish here). It felt like we
must have travelled three or four kilometres to get there, and they would have
had to carry it back on their heads after grinding it, not arriving home until
after dark.</span></li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9DS0jGWHlIw/V7ByuSnavyI/AAAAAAAABUM/DJhoL3nEjDULiDxuIOP4l0kzt6_8EVXUwCLcB/s1600/16.08.11%2BNsenga%2B%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9DS0jGWHlIw/V7ByuSnavyI/AAAAAAAABUM/DJhoL3nEjDULiDxuIOP4l0kzt6_8EVXUwCLcB/s640/16.08.11%2BNsenga%2B%25284%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Food mountains! Lunchtime at the pastor's house. Men inside, ladies outside.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-7698736933160728852016-01-19T12:04:00.000+03:002016-01-19T12:04:25.783+03:00Is it love?<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ekwK9v0JcDI/Vp370mizwpI/AAAAAAAABT4/x76NHEfDQoc/s1600/1668_handofgod_cross_only_medium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ekwK9v0JcDI/Vp370mizwpI/AAAAAAAABT4/x76NHEfDQoc/s1600/1668_handofgod_cross_only_medium.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I have just started reading a book I received for Christmas
from my lovely uncle and aunt, called, “Love Story” by Nichole Nordeman. I have
only read the first chapter (on Creation), but she expressed so well some of
the questions that I often ask myself, that I am looking forward to reading
more, and understanding more of the depth and breadth of God’s love for us. Shortly
after reading this chapter, I listened to a Christmas sermon that focused on
the death of Christ. As I held together in my head Creation and Crucifixion, I
wondered, “Why?” Why would God create a world that He knew would lead to the
cross? Where is love in such an act? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But then it was as if I could overhear a conversation that took
place in heaven before the beginning of time, as God and His Son talked
together about their plan to make the world. As they got excited about making a
beautiful Earth, filling it with life, making people in their image that they
would be able to interact with and enjoy being with, delighting in loving them
and receiving their love, God said, “But you know what this will involve, don’t
you?” And Jesus said, “Yes, I know.” It didn’t need to be put into words. They
knew that if they made people in their image, with the potential to love in
great measure and with the ability to make choices, that some would choose not
to love. That some would not choose God and His Son, but would instead look for
their own ways to love and enjoy life. And those choices only lead to death.
And ultimately those choices would lead to the death of God’s Son. Because His
love wouldn’t stop when human love did. His love would mean that He would die Himself,
rather than give up on us. He created us with potential, He created us in His
image, and His love means that He will not abandon that potential, but rather
die Himself to bring about new life, eternal life, greater potential. Renewed
hope.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And so God said, “You know what this will involve, don’t
you?” And Jesus said, “Yes, I know.” He did not back out when He acknowledged
the cost. The cross. Instead He said, “Let there be…” And there was. And we
came into existence. And when the time came to pay the price of love, He became
like one of us, like those He created. Yet perfect. He fulfilled His potential
and loved unselfishly. He loved us to the point of dying for us, in that most
terrible event and yet that most wonderful display of love, at the cross. So
yes, it is love, that God should make this world, while knowing that we would
destroy it. It is love, that God would make us to know Him, while knowing that
we would choose not to. It is love that God would pour out His love, while
knowing that He would be unloved. It is love that God would create life and
beauty, while knowing that He himself would have to die an ugly death. It is
love. And we can choose to love Him back and enjoy Him and delight in and thank
Him for all the potential He gave us to be like Him and be loved by Him. Or we
can choose not to. But oh what a sad choice that would be, to choose not to
love our Maker and be loved eternally by His unselfish love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It is love</span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>When you
consider freedom together with fighting,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>When you
consider life together with loss,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>When you
consider joy together with judgement,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>When you
consider creation together with the cross,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>I wonder,
“Why?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>I wonder why
our God made the universe,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>I wonder why
he put life on the earth,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>I wonder why
he created humanity,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>I wonder why
he made us of worth.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>I question
love.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Is it love
that makes what will be destroyed?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Is it love
that forms relationships that will break?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Is it love
that breathes life to what will die?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Is it love
that gives, only to take?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>It is love.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>It is love,
that led God to agree<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>With His
son, before time began,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>That though
love would not be returned,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>They’d still
go ahead with their plan.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>It is love.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>It is love
that made man in God’s image,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>It is love
that said, “Come and love me”,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>It is love
that allowed us to choose,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>It is love
that took God to the tree.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>It is love.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>It is love
that though we made choices<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>That
destroyed the potential God gave<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>He never
stopped loving and giving<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>When giving
led Him to the grave.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>It is love.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-49636656980060114892015-12-11T09:06:00.001+03:002015-12-11T09:06:22.833+03:00A trip to train Sunday school teachers<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Location: Magamba, Chunya District (1.5 hour drive from
Mshewe, my village home). Most people there speak the Nyiha language and some
speak the Safwa language or other languages such as Sukuma. Nearly everyone is also able to speak Swahili.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I picked up Amani (my Safwa colleague who lives in Mshewe)
at 8am, or at least, I arrived at his house at 8am and he wasn’t quite ready, and
our Nyiha colleague, who was supposed to be coming with us, hadn’t arrived
either and wasn’t responding to phonecalls or text messages. We decided to
leave without him. I played with Amani’s little girl while I waited for him to
get ready and we set off quarter of an hour later. The road is a graded dirt
road, and for the most part is rough but in reasonable condition, but some bits
were very bumpy and made worse by recent rain. <span style="font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-suVoNKcJndM/VmpmoTKtIDI/AAAAAAAABSE/3lvoeDclWmg/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-suVoNKcJndM/VmpmoTKtIDI/AAAAAAAABSE/3lvoeDclWmg/s400/1.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As we drove, Amani told me he’d had a phonecall from the
pastor who was arranging things for us in Magamba, to say that there was a
funeral. This may not sound so significant to you, but I know what that means.
It means that many people who I would have expected to see at the seminar will
instead be at the funeral, which typically lasts three days. At some point on
the journey we picked up three people to give them a lift to Magamba, as they
were going to attend the funeral. When we arrived, we found out the person who
died was a fairly close relative of the pastor who was hosting us, and so any hope
of starting the workshop that day was lost. No-one would have turned up anyhow.
Instead, we went to the funeral. There were crowds of people, women sitting in
one area and preparing food and men sitting in another area. It was very much
an open-air event, though thankfully we got ushered into a house away from the
loud speakers and out of the hot sun. You wouldn’t have known that it was a
funeral from the music being played, it just sounded like a typical gospel </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">event. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We were joined by a group of pastors (as usual, though being
a lady I wasn’t expected to be with the ladies) for chai and mandazi. For us
the funeral involved a lot of sitting or standing around and waiting. I got a
chance to chat with some people and show them local language Scriptures and
later we got a chance to chat with the pastors who had come (it seems that
pastors from all the local churches will come to a funeral to pay their
respects and to preach) about our work. Can you imagine using a funeral in
England as a platform for advertising what you do?! But here it was fine, and
indeed a good opportunity, because at no expense to us, we were able to meet
with pastors from various places that we might otherwise never meet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The funeral in general seemed to start with lots of church
choirs and music, followed by some preaching and then the burial, which took
place in the back yard of the person’s home. Before covering the body, people
were able to pass by and say their final goodbye. After covering, as we do in
England, people could throw dirt in the grave and finally place flowers etc on
it. I just observed all of this from a distance – I couldn’t really see
anything, but asked Amani for explanations. After the burial, people gave their
condolences in the form of money and they added it all up and announced the
total sum. This may seem very mercenary to us, but I think we have to remember
that a funeral is an expensive event – the family have to feed everyone that
comes, and that could literally be hundreds of people (I don’t know how many people
were at this one, but it looked like well over a hundred), so people’s
condolences help cover the costs. (We got fed there too, even though we didn’t
know the deceased. I got a plate of rice with a bit of cow that I tried not to
look at or smell but just eat, it was offal of some kind – it tasted okay but
the texture was far from pleasant).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ToNQ7Q6sQis/Vmpm0vgsGFI/AAAAAAAABSc/K2Du_HjERSw/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ToNQ7Q6sQis/Vmpm0vgsGFI/AAAAAAAABSc/K2Du_HjERSw/s320/2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We returned to the
pastor’s house after food and sat and chatted about the Bible with some people
that were visiting him, before returning to the funeral for a while to see the
pastor. Now they were preaching. And when we visited the funeral again the next
day, there was someone else preaching, so I get the impression that after the
main event, the rest of the three days is taken with preaching and music and
just being there with the bereaved people.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That night it poured with rain, a real thunderstorm.
Needless to say, I didn’t sleep particularly well! Despite the rain it was
still pretty hot, though by morning the rain had cooled things off. I was
worried it might affect the roads, but thankfully it didn’t. So on day two we
were able to hold the workshop, although the pastor was still at the funeral,
and I think a number of others must have been too. Instead of the twenty plus
participants we had at the first one, we had just six, and they were late. I
tried not to be discouraged, and actually taught the children for a bit while I
waited for the teachers to turn up – there were a lot more children there than
teachers! They came and sat through most of the workshop, just for something to
do. Sometimes I was able to involve them in games and songs, but mostly they
just sat and watched.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3ATFoCVs6cw/Vmpm459wASI/AAAAAAAABSs/vXpK04HxvyM/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="154" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3ATFoCVs6cw/Vmpm459wASI/AAAAAAAABSs/vXpK04HxvyM/s320/3.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The workshop went okay, but I had to squeeze 1.5 days of
teaching into one day because of the funeral, so I had to do some rethinking!
It felt a bit like they hadn’t learned anything, as the way that they did the
exercises didn’t seem to show any improvement form the first workshop, and two
of the teachers hadn’t done any teaching since the first workshop. But I just
hope and pray that it has had some small impact. I was encouraged by one of the
pastors at the funeral who said that he had noticed a difference since their
Sunday school teacher had attended the first workshop. The six participants I
had were an enthusiastic bunch and we had some lively conversation over lunch,
so the day passed quickly and I enjoyed it despite having a headache and
despite the heat (it got pretty sticky in the afternoon). And we had two little
visitors – hedgehogs! First there was one, which I took outside, but it came
back. So I took it out again, further away, and it came back. In the end we
gave up, and it found a dark, dry corner of the church to hide in, behind the
electric guitars, and later it was joined by its friend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Before leaving we called by the funeral again to say goodbye
to our host-pastor. The preaching was still going on. He took us to the market
as he wanted to buy as a gift of fish, which are plentiful there as it is about
an hour away from Lake Rukwa. I really enjoy the fish, despite the bones. They
fry them so that they will keep for a while, without refrigeration. We gave
three people a lift back to Mshewe, arriving back in the village around 7pm,
and the evening sky was just stunning. As I drove the last little bit back to
my house alone, I just stopped the car in the middle of the field I was driving
through (on a dirt track) and watched the glorious sky that no photo could do
justice to. Breathtaking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-83ky_EsVm3Y/VmpnCoQjqxI/AAAAAAAABS4/5eDG3KVWol4/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-83ky_EsVm3Y/VmpnCoQjqxI/AAAAAAAABS4/5eDG3KVWol4/s400/4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-10071527095510952222015-11-24T09:33:00.000+03:002015-11-24T09:41:51.256+03:00Back in Mshewe<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Yesterday I arrived back in Mshewe and I confess I wasn’t
looking forward to returning to the village, even though it’s only for a couple
of weeks. I had started to settle into town life and was enjoying some measure
of routine, which comes with more office-based work, as well as the delights of
electricity (most of the time anyhow), easy access to shops and the
companionship of a housemate and other English speaking friends. However, I reassured
myself with memories of the beauty of the Mshewe countryside and the fun I have
with some of my village friends, and so drove back to the village with at least
some sense of anticipation. My pleasure grew as I bought myself some grilled
corn-on-the-cob and left the noise of the town behind, driving past buckets full
of mangoes being sold at the side of the road before turning up the dirt track
to where I live.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Arriving, I opened the kitchen door. My friends had kindly
left me a bunch of bananas, but some other very unwelcome ‘friends’ had also
been at work. The kitchen was a mess. Someone had left a bag of peanuts on the
worktop – a fatal mistake. Mice love peanuts and the result was that not only
were peanut shells scattered across the counter but they had also sampled the
label on the bottle of oil, a pen lid and a box of matches, among other
things! Entering the main house to check the situation out there I found the
usual pile of bat droppings behind the sofa and had an unpleasant surprise in
the bathroom – a filthy mess around the bath. When I turned on the tap to clean
up the dirt, the water that came out was black and took about half-an-hour of
running to become just about clean enough to shower in.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--FlpY8V2IPY/VlQDOVUWeqI/AAAAAAAABRw/k5-nv0R9UMs/s1600/Back%2Bin%2BMshewe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--FlpY8V2IPY/VlQDOVUWeqI/AAAAAAAABRw/k5-nv0R9UMs/s400/Back%2Bin%2BMshewe.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A couple of hours of cleaning and unpacking later, I finally
took a shower in the almost-clean water and felt refreshed and ready to face
living here once again. The sunset was stunning. My friend popped over to say
hi. I cooked some food. I lit my new scented candle. I sat down to write this
blog post to the music of the cicadas outside. It’s not so bad being here after
all!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Waking early this morning to the dawn chorus and someone
calling “Hodi!” at my gate, wanting to speak to me, I wasn’t so sure again. He wanted
money for a sound system at his church! Did he have to come and knock before 6am
in the morning for such a request?! I feel weary. But it’s a beautiful morning,
I am working with my faithful colleagues today, with the chance to read the
Bible together, and so there is much to be thankful for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I know that I need to trust God to strengthen me for whatever
lies ahead. The line of a familiar song comes to mind once again, “Strength for
today and bright hope for tomorrow.” Amen to that!</span><o:p></o:p></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-9610242739862949792015-10-31T12:35:00.000+03:002015-10-31T12:35:05.822+03:00All in a day<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The alarm goes off at 6.45am, time to get up and get going.
I put my solar lights outside to recharge then head to the kitchen to cook my
porridge. As I eat I continue to read Genesis and ponder the life of Joseph. I
turn on the tap to wash up but there isn’t any water, and there hasn’t been any
since yesterday afternoon. Hopefully someone will fix that problem today. I get
in my Toyota Prado ready to head to the village to pick up my colleague, Amani.
As I’m about to turn on the engine I find a text message from Amani telling me
he isn’t able to come to town today, he’s elsewhere. Frustrated with the
constant change in plans I decide to head to town anyhow, to meet with my other
colleague, John.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I head along the dirt road, I pass through a check-point
and a lady asks for a lift. She gets in the car and I show her how to fasten
her seatbelt. She is a Safwa lady, so I play the book of Ruth in the Safwa
language for her to listen to, which she obviously enjoys by the various
affirmative sounds she makes! I negotiate my way through the morning bustle
around the cattle market, where men in blood-stained white coats are milling around
to buy and butcher animals, and up the pot-holed street past vendors selling
potatoes and other vegetables on their road-side stands.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7u02YAGttnc/VjSHt4c73rI/AAAAAAAABRM/_F0_KBJNZTM/s1600/IMG_20150518_093425039office.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7u02YAGttnc/VjSHt4c73rI/AAAAAAAABRM/_F0_KBJNZTM/s200/IMG_20150518_093425039office.jpg" width="112" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I arrive at our Safwa office, on the grounds of a garage run
by a Swiss mission, where people are trained to fix cars. John has already
arrived and we greet each other, “Mwagona!” We report back on the activities of
the previous week and discuss plans for the coming months and a question that
John had from his reading of Genesis (we are all working our way through this
book). My morning drinks have gone through me so I head to the toilet, a nice
hole in the ground. The bucket of water for flushing is empty, so I find a
nearby tap and fill it up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">John heads off to visit some people and sell Safwa books. I
remain behind to continue with computer work, taking advantage of having
electricity and a fairly good internet connection while in town. The room gets
warmer and warmer as the day heats up. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At lunchtime I lock the office padlock
and head out to find some food. I stroll up the dusty road and down a
passageway littered with plastic bags. A vendor selling oranges tries to
persuade me to buy some, a child calls out “mzungu” (referring to me, a white
foreigner) and I squeeze past a mother carrying her baby on her back. I walk
through the market where all kinds of wares are available, from kitchen
equipment to shoes to food, and before I get totally lost in the maze I ask a
lady where I can find somewhere to eat. She shows me to a room, with a grubby
lace curtain for a door. On entering I recognised the table, I’ve eaten here
before with my colleagues. The owner brings me a plate piled high with rice and
with small portions of greens, meat and beans on the side. I get talking with
the other people at the table, sharing about our work. I turn on my phone for
them to listen to the Bible in their language and get into conversation about
churches in Tanzania and the lack of faith in England. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It’s time to head back to the office, so I pay up (about
50p) and take a cocktail stick to get the bits of meat out from between my
teeth that are the inevitable result of eating tough (but flavoursome) beef. On
the way back I buy a five litre container so I can get some more petrol for my
generator, which seems to guzzle fuel. I don’t know what the container used to
hold, maybe soap or cooking oil. Someone has washed it out thoroughly and now
it’s available to buy for a mere 50p. I also pick up some tomatoes, buying four
for 10p. Back in the office I settle back down in front of my laptop to
continue with emails, finance issues and other administrative things that have built
up while I have been busy teaching over the past couple of weeks. A man knocks
on the door and enters. He is looking for my colleague. We get into
conversation and I show him the Safwa books and explain to him why the
translation process is so long and thorough. He is a pastor. He takes my
colleague’s phone number – maybe he will get in touch to invite us to speak at
his church.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RD97SWMUI5w/VjSH_vGvnjI/AAAAAAAABRU/Cbkr74bbkI8/s1600/IMG_20150426_084701007_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="136" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RD97SWMUI5w/VjSH_vGvnjI/AAAAAAAABRU/Cbkr74bbkI8/s320/IMG_20150426_084701007_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The office is hot, it’s hard to focus, but it’s not long until
hometime. John has returned and we finish the day by praying together. I drive
to the petrol station to get fuel for the generator before heading home,
driving past the school children returning from a day of studies, slowing down
to skirt round a herd of cows being driven down the road, and overtaking
motorbikes, which are the most common form of public transport off the main
roads.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On arriving home I unload the car and get changed ready for
a walk in the slightly cooler evening air. I decide to head to the river for a
paddle in the cold mountain water. It’s a beautiful spot and I watch the
butterflies fluttering around. I spy a rock and some plants that look black,
but on closer inspection discover they are simply alive with flying ants. As I
return from my walk the sky is painted in the gentle pastel colours that come
after the sun has set. I head to my carrot patch to pull up a few carrots for
tea and I also pick a few strawberries as I pass through my friend’s strawberry
patch, before returning home to wash my hair (having earlier boiled the kettle
on the gas stove to give me some water to do so). </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1jq5ZjyR_Gg/VjSKxAgA1GI/AAAAAAAABRg/eViblUby1YM/s1600/IMG_20151027_181410760_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1jq5ZjyR_Gg/VjSKxAgA1GI/AAAAAAAABRg/eViblUby1YM/s200/IMG_20151027_181410760_HDR.jpg" width="111" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My friend, Mama Pendo,
arrives to make a cake. Armed with bananas from their own plot of land we set
to making banana bread for some guests she is receiving tomorrow. A little
later her husband arrives and we enjoy a good natter while we wait for the cake
to bake, discussing everything from schooling to what grains we grow in
England. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">At 9pm they leave and I accompany them the short way to
their house, as it is polite to walk a little way with your guests rather than
just wave them goodbye from the door. Now it is time to throw together a light
tea with home made bread followed by a fruit salad of fresh pineapple, passion
and banana. I sit in the lounge to eat while WhatsApping my parents and
watching an episode of ‘To a Manor Born’, which is refreshingly British and
light hearted after a day of speaking Swahili and dealing with life in Tanzania,
while the generator drones noisily in the garage.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It’s after 10pm and time I was in bed. I head to the
kitchen, wash up, turn off the generator and get ready for bed by the light of
my solar lantern. Teeth brushed, I let down the mosquito net and settle down
for what I hope will be a good night’s sleep, to the sound of the cicadas and
the occasional hoot of an owl. Outside the heavens declare the glory of God as
the stars shine out brightly in all their vast array, with the milky way
marking a clear pathway across the sky. Sleep.</span></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-17087819632947616662015-09-15T09:46:00.000+03:002015-09-15T09:46:18.417+03:00The little things<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It is often the little things in life that can prove
intensely frustrating or stressful or that can bring unexpected moments of pure
joy. Here’s some ‘little things’ that I have experienced recently that have
done just that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The little things that frustrate:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><ul>
<li>Going to the one bank that
I can withdraw cash from without a fee, only to be told my card issuer is
unavailable. I try again another day. It still doesn’t work. I end up
going to another bank and paying the withdrawal fee and now I have cash.
Why was my card issuer unavailable at the one bank and not the other?!</li>
<li>Breakfast time and I go to
get a banana for my porridge only to discover that fruit flies have been
busy and eaten large chunks out of my bananas!</li>
<li>My generator has stopped
working. As this is my only source of electricity in Mshewe, this has made
charging electrical appliances stressful and makes evenings tiring as I do
things in much dimmer light than electricity would supply.</li>
<li>Wanting to have people
round for a meal but not having access (here in Mshewe) to the food I
would normally use when cooking for guests.</li>
<li>Time to wash the dishes,
but when I turn on the tap there is no water. I can get some from the
garden tap, but it’s just another of those ‘little things’.</li>
<li>Finding bat droppings all
over the sofa and floor every morning. (I am kept company in the evenings
by the squeaking of bats in the attic! Their droppings fall down the gaps
round the edge of the ceiling boards).</li>
</ul>
</span><ul style="margin-top: 0cm;" type="disc">
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">All these little things have solutions, but one after
another can be tiring and stressful. Thankfully there are also the little
things that bring a smile to the face:</span></div>
<br />
<ul style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oGDu9eYjS-4/Vfe7uQApscI/AAAAAAAABQ8/Qu8y5O4KHBI/s1600/blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="138" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oGDu9eYjS-4/Vfe7uQApscI/AAAAAAAABQ8/Qu8y5O4KHBI/s200/blog.jpg" width="200" /></a>
<li>Stepping out my door at
night and being wowed by the stars.</li>
<li>Getting three letters from
my parents all at once (one of them was posted over two months ago) and
getting a surprise parcel of dark chocolate from a friend.</li>
<li>When staying at my Mbeya
home for a couple of nights, I found I had chocolate cake in the freezer.
I’d forgotten about that. Mmmmm.</li>
<li>Chatting with a guard from
the coffee plantation one evening, I discovered he couldn’t read. I whipped
out my phone and a stool and he sat and listened to Mark’s gospel, chapter
one, in his mother tongue (Safwa). The next evening I found him by his
fire and he listened to chapter two. Another evening, he was ready waiting
at my house, eager to hear more, together with another guard. It made me
smile to hear them laughing with pleasure as they listened to God’s Word
in their heart language.</li>
<li>Watching a stereotypically
big red ball of African sun sinking in the sky at sunset.</li>
<li>Holding someone’s baby at
church, smiling up at me. (Some children here are afraid of white people
as they are not used to seeing them, so it is a particular joy to hold a
baby that shows no fear).</li>
</ul>
<ul style="margin-top: 0cm;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></li>
</ul>
<ul style="margin-top: 0cm;" type="disc">
</ul>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-29462597225732803752015-08-24T15:39:00.002+03:002015-08-24T15:39:50.810+03:00Waiting<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I feel like I spend a lot of my life in Tanzania waiting.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1nhA8w2nV9A/VdsOXm3S4yI/AAAAAAAABQo/SkqkZgmjMLk/s1600/15.08.13%2BMshewe%2Bpastors%2B%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1nhA8w2nV9A/VdsOXm3S4yI/AAAAAAAABQo/SkqkZgmjMLk/s320/15.08.13%2BMshewe%2Bpastors%2B%25283%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teaching pastors to read their Safwa language, <br />while we wait for others to arrive for a meeting.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On Saturday I was invited to a meeting of local church
leaders in order to share about our work. I turned up on time with my
colleague, Nsolelo, at 10am. There was no sign of anyone at the Moravian church
where the meeting was to be held so we went to the pastor’s house where one
other person was waiting. We were given something to eat (dry bread and cooking
bananas) and drink (black tea) and we continued to wait and chat. Others then began
to arrive, so we migrated to the meeting room and over an hour after we were
supposed to start the meeting finally kicked off. After I had spoken I sat
through the rest of the meeting, which proved to be totally irrelevant, until
it ended well after my usual lunch time. On this occasion, as on many others, I
just had to hope and pray that it wasn’t a waste of time and that God could
somehow use the small contribution I made for His purposes. I had to remind
myself that relationships are important and you never know what may come of a
meeting like that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Let me take you to a another event – this time a Sunday
school teacher training workshop. I knew we wouldn’t start on time the first
day, so I wasn’t too worried that even I, as the teacher, turned up a little
late. The invitation letter stated that the workshop would begin at 9am, but it
was around 10.30am by the time we got going, and still not everyone had
arrived. I hoped that on the second day the participants might not be so late,
but the pattern repeated itself until the end of the workshop and I just tried
to keep the one or two who were on time (meaning only half-an-hour late)
entertained with crafts and games until we could start properly! (All good
training for teaching children, who are also usually late for Sunday school).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Or there is the seminar we were teaching at on Friday, which
of course started late, but that was to be expected. The real waiting began
after the meeting was over, when we were asked to stay for food (which takes a
long time to cook when you are using wood as your fuel) and then, just as I
hoped we could leave, I found out we had to wait for the host-pastor to come
(who hadn’t attended the morning’s meeting) so that we could greet
him before we left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And right now I am waiting – waiting for plans to fall into
place that depend on other people meeting and making plans, which they are in
no hurry to do, as for them it is just something to get round to when they have
time, while for me my very work depends on it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I feel like I have learned more about living life day by day
and being patient through these experiences, but at times it is just incredibly
frustrating and l feel like I am wasting my time. Also there is something
strangely tiring about waiting – I am much more tired after a day of sitting in
pastors’ houses or in meetings, not doing or saying much, than I am after a day
of energetic teaching. So, if you need a break from the hustle and bustle of
life in the ‘West’, come and visit me and we can sit and wait together :-)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><span style="color: orange;"><b>“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew
their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and
not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.” </b>Isaiah 40:31 (KJV)</span></i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This is the kind of waiting I would rather experience in my
life, of eternal benefit. May God help me to wait upon Him, and to learn to
wait patiently here!</span><o:p></o:p></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-67039011475222631792015-06-17T21:10:00.000+03:002015-06-17T21:10:18.437+03:00Why Tanzania?<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yU7VVNjyWek/VYG2d8QrrQI/AAAAAAAABQI/pNol1-ReVTk/s1600/15.05.31%2BMatema%2B%252817%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yU7VVNjyWek/VYG2d8QrrQI/AAAAAAAABQI/pNol1-ReVTk/s320/15.05.31%2BMatema%2B%252817%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Matema, Lake Nyasa (aka Lake Malawi) on a recent break</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">To a
passing observer it may look like an exciting adventure to work in ‘exotic’
Africa, but while Tanzania is indeed a beautiful place, with delicious tropical
fruits, exotic birds and lots of sunshine, the reality of living and working here
is often challenging. Leaving behind family and friends that I love and living
in a culture that is so different from my own can be very hard. So why do I do
it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Though
the sun is shining and the birds are singing as I write, I know that out there
the world is a mess. Just over the wall are people living in poverty, sometimes
wondering where their next meal will come from or how they will pay their
children’s school fees. Read the news and there are people living in fear of
their lives, thousands trying to escape their homes and others suffering from
natural disasters. And in my own family loved ones are suffering, I myself
often have health issues and I know that happiness is fragile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I
can’t make sense of all this. Sometimes I find the hopelessness of life
overwhelming, except that I believe that there <i>is</i> hope. This world has a lot of beauty, ingenuity and love in it,
enough to point me to the fact that there must be a master designer behind it –
I cannot conceive that it just came to be. But if all that there is to life now
is what I see around me and on the news, then I am not sure what the point of
living is. My <i>own</i> life might be
pretty comfortable and nice, but what about all those others who are suffering?
Is it fair?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">When I
wonder about all this (which I do frequently), again and again I am pointed towards
the only thing, or One, that I believe makes sense of it. This world is messed
up, mostly by humanity’s own actions, but there is hope. God made this world to
be a beautiful place where we can live in love and harmony with Him and one
another. But people have chosen to ignore God and follow their own ideas and
the world we now live in is the result of that. But the reason I have hope to
carry on and the reason I live in Tanzania, is because I believe God hasn’t
abandoned us. I believe that if we choose to acknowledge God to be God and to
love and follow Him, we can look forward to a day when this world will be
totally restored, the mess done away with, and we will live in peace with man
and God. This hope for the future gives me the strength to live for today. It
gives me the motivation to live in Tanzania, to work with the church here to
help people to know God better, through the Bible, that they might share in
that hope that I have. I have been privileged with good education and Bible
teaching, unlike so many of my Christian family in Tanzania, so this is why I
have come to teach in Bible colleges and churches here that they also might
understand the Bible and know God better and the hope He offers. It is why I am
part of an organisation trying to make the Bible available in every language of
the world that needs one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D0a4Sx5tncs/VYG3f6Mmt9I/AAAAAAAABQQ/GviOv99MA8I/s1600/15.03.06%2BMbeya%2BBible%2BCollege%2B%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="208" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D0a4Sx5tncs/VYG3f6Mmt9I/AAAAAAAABQQ/GviOv99MA8I/s320/15.03.06%2BMbeya%2BBible%2BCollege%2B%25284%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Students at a Bible college that I teach at occasionally</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">If you
have questions about anything I have written, if you disagree or want to know
more, please write and tell me!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="color: orange;">"The fundamental fact of
existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under
everything that makes life worth living." The Bible (Hebrews 11:1, The Message
translation)</span><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-60441067799581275592015-05-13T09:31:00.000+03:002015-05-13T09:31:38.330+03:00The same God?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">On
Sunday I visited a church in the village of Iziwa, a beautiful spot on the
slopes of Mbeya Peak. I was there with my colleagues from the Safwa language
area to share about the work of Bible translation, to discuss the possibility
of returning to teach people to read and write their language and to talk about
Scripture Engagement training we can provide.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ISs1-2RLczw/VVLvU9gz-sI/AAAAAAAABP0/4aA69_Cp7TI/s1600/IMG_20150510_103158473.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ISs1-2RLczw/VVLvU9gz-sI/AAAAAAAABP0/4aA69_Cp7TI/s320/IMG_20150510_103158473.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">It
turned out to be a very big church as it is the headquarters of the Pentecostal
Holiness Mission (PHM) for this area. Due to having guests (us), several of the
nearby PHM churches had come for a joint service, so there were about 500
people. We joined the service at about 10.30am (things had already begun while
we were in the pastor’s office), and proceeded to sit through nine choirs presenting
their songs. As guests, we were seated on the stage in plush arm chairs,
looking through the glass pulpit to the choirs dancing in front. To my right two
humongous speakers perched on the edge of the stage and my armchair vibrated to
the beat. After an hour and half of listening to loud songs that were hard to
understand and watching the choirs throwing themselves into elaborate dance
moves, we moved into the offering time, after which we were introduced and my
colleague preached (using a mixture of Swahili and Safwa). After a long (but
pretty good) sermon on Job, there was a time of prayer in which everyone prayed
out loud at the same time. And when I say out ‘loud’, I mean LOUD!! The service
lasted over four hours, though thankfully we were invited to leave the service
to ‘rest’ before it was over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">So, there
I was, in a church with brothers and sisters in Christ, but everything about
the service felt so far removed from what I am used to in England that I was
almost led to wonder if we worship the same God. Does my God accept carefully
rehearsed dancing as worship, does He like it when people shout their prayers
and does an exceedingly long, loud service please Him? These things might not
be pleasing to me, but that doesn’t mean we are worshipping a different God.
Rather, we are different people worshipping the same God. When I stop and think
about it, it’s incredible just how much diversity God created and loves. The
fact that He can find pleasure in Iziwa villagers worshipping Him one way and
Lapworth villagers worshipping Him in a totally different way speaks to the
very bigness of our God. He isn’t confined to one culture or one way of doing
things, His heart is so much bigger than my blinkered, judgmental one!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I hope
that the longer I live here the more God will help me to see this culture
through His eyes and the more I will glimpse the bigness of our God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><i><span style="color: orange;">“As
high as the heavens are above the earth, so high are my ways and thoughts above
yours.” Isaiah 55:9 (Today’s English Version)</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-73536827709678627412015-03-30T13:07:00.000+03:002015-03-30T13:07:08.405+03:00Mshewe<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wbyHG5KJDaI/VRke49MlacI/AAAAAAAABPI/G3aGaJ9O4d8/s1600/BLog%2Bpi%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wbyHG5KJDaI/VRke49MlacI/AAAAAAAABPI/G3aGaJ9O4d8/s1600/BLog%2Bpi%2B3.jpg" height="320" width="233" /></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">A
typical day for an Mshewe villager in March is likely to involve getting up
with the sun, heading out to the shamba (a plot of farmland) to work hard all
morning cultivating the soil and planting beans. The afternoon heat (and
hopefully rain) is a time to return home, eat, go to the market, visit friends
and do other work. Early evening may involve a second period of labour on the
farm, before returning to household chores. The curses of Genesis 3:17-19 became
very real to me one morning when I went with someone to learn how to plant
beans and yield a small hoe: “Cursed is the ground because of you, through
painful toil you will eat of it”. Life is hard – during a year there are very
few periods of rest from toiling on the farm if you want to have enough to feed
your family, and children start learning at a young age how to help on the farm
and in the house. I still have blisters on my hand as a reminder of the work
that goes into producing the food I eat so unthinkingly. While I already had some
idea of village life before going to spend two weeks in Mshewe, actually being
there and interacting with it brought the reality home to me with more clarity
and greater detail.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XR1MZSODdSQ/VRkfFTBa1oI/AAAAAAAABPg/GgvYfeNmgGc/s1600/Blog%2Bpic%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XR1MZSODdSQ/VRkfFTBa1oI/AAAAAAAABPg/GgvYfeNmgGc/s1600/Blog%2Bpic%2B1.jpg" height="200" width="137" /></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For
me, however, there was no such thing as a ‘typical day’ in Mshewe! Some of the
experiences I had included visiting a couple of local schools (simple buildings
with as many as 60 children in a class), attending a village meeting (a
fascinating insight into local issues), watching a choir sing traditional Safwa
songs (and later discovering they normally sing them in the bars, well-laced
with locally brewed beer), visiting homes, learning some Safwa greetings, teaching
in a local church and chatting with the pastor about training for Sunday school
teachers.</span></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">My aim
at present is just to watch and learn (as I shadow our two Safwa Literacy &
Scripture Use workers) and see where the needs are and where and how I might be
able to use my own gifts and training to serve the local church and help people
engage with God’s Word. I currently feel a bit like a plane circling around and
not knowing where to land! I don’t want to try and land too soon, because I
think the watching and learning process is vital, but at the same time there is
much to be done. I am desperately praying that God will show me when and how He
wants me to be at work in the Safwa area.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As
well as the interesting and varied experiences I had, some of the things I
really enjoyed about living in Mshewe were the lovely views and walks, the
butterflies, some of the people I got to meet and their kind hospitality and
help. On the downside, there were the nasty gnats that ate me alive (I am still
itching), the very poor internet, limited electricity and a lack of English
social interaction! However, on balance, it was a good two weeks and I have
left with a desire to return soon and find out what God has in store, though
each time I go it will be hard to leave behind the friendships and comforts of
Mbeya. As we step out into Holy Week, though, I am reminded of how the Son of
God left behind so much more than that, in order to identify with us and serve
us – may this thought strengthen our resolve to also step out of our comfort
zones to serve Him.</span></div>
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ojs0XeltaYo/VRke649TmcI/AAAAAAAABPU/gtU0oUckUH4/s1600/BLog%2Bpic%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ojs0XeltaYo/VRke649TmcI/AAAAAAAABPU/gtU0oUckUH4/s1600/BLog%2Bpic%2B2.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<o:p></o:p>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-35793388933889605712015-02-08T16:59:00.000+03:002015-02-08T16:59:30.166+03:00Where is home?<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bffqhUBLlHo/VNdrOsTvSTI/AAAAAAAABOY/TQeT4U3RE98/s1600/15.01.29%2BHome%2B%26%2Bcar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bffqhUBLlHo/VNdrOsTvSTI/AAAAAAAABOY/TQeT4U3RE98/s1600/15.01.29%2BHome%2B%26%2Bcar.jpg" height="169" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I’m
sitting in my ‘home’ in Mbeya – a colleague’s house that I am using for several
months while she is back in her ‘home’ country. In many ways it already feels
like home, with some of my pictures on the walls, my piano by the window and
the lovely view of the mountains. But I know it’s only temporary.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I’ve
been twice to the house in Mshewe, where I hope to live when focusing more on
working with people in the Safwa language area. I’ve taken photos and tried to
think through what I might need to take, but right now I have no idea how long
I will spend there and how it will work out and whether it will ever feel like ‘home’.
I hope to have my first stay there from mid-March, perhaps for an initial period
of two to three weeks, but we’ll see – things have a habit of changing here
from week to week! Mshewe is in a beautiful area, though it could feel rather
lonely living alone in a big house. If you’d like to come for a virtual visit,
click <a href="http://youtu.be/gKzaE0wSaDY" target="_blank"><span style="color: orange;">here</span></a> to see a few pictures and hear some traditional Safwa music.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Mbeya
does feel like ‘home’ again in many ways, but at the same time I feel like I am
in a permanent state of transition, between one house and another and between
England (which is also very much ‘home’ to me, both Lapworth and Gloucester) and
Tanzania. I find I don’t buy books or too many ‘things’ because I never know
when I will pack up and move again, and the more stuff you have the harder that
becomes. It’s always a challenge making a place feel like home in such a way
that it is also easy to up and go! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">All
these changes keep life interesting but also make it a bit unsettling. Maybe
this is one of the reasons I look forward to the future. I recently read again
these verses from John 14, where Jesus said:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="color: orange;"><i>“In my
Father’s house are many rooms…I am going there to prepare a place for you. And…I
will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”</i></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-69414464323711458232015-01-28T09:26:00.002+03:002015-01-28T09:26:43.401+03:00What’s new?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I’m
back in Mbeya, the town where I lived for nearly five years but thought I might
never see again. It’s a strange feeling, as if I’m in a dream that I might wake
up from only to find myself back in my bed at Redcliffe. But the longer I am
here, the more reality sinks in. It’s
been over a week now. As soon as I stepped off the plane in Dar es Salaam my
nostrils were assaulted with the warm, humid atmosphere of the coastal city,
and I felt strangely like I had come home. So much was the same, but not
everything!</span></div>
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short time I had in Dar I was struck by how technology has moved on, everyone I
saw in the airport seemed to be using a smart phone! After a couple of days in
Dar I flew to Mbeya – no longer does one have to sit on a bus for 13 hours, as
a plane ticket to the new ‘international’ airport can be almost as cheap as the
bus. I was lucky to arrive on a dry morning, seeing Mbeya at its best – lush
and green from the recent rains, with the mountains rising up all around. One
thing that hasn’t changed is the beauty of this place, in fact it’s even more
beautiful than I remembered it!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pSeDqgBLlPw/VMh_E82R4kI/AAAAAAAABOI/afN-bm5JPdc/s1600/IMG_20150121_132033536_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pSeDqgBLlPw/VMh_E82R4kI/AAAAAAAABOI/afN-bm5JPdc/s1600/IMG_20150121_132033536_HDR.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loleza Peak, rising above Mbeya town</td></tr>
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mobile phone network logos and advertising the fact that you can use M-Pesa or
equivalent there – M-Pesa almost acts as a little bank account on your phone,
from which you can send money to people or pay for things; it’s very useful,
particularly in a place where shops don’t take Visa and internet banking isn’t
used. </span>A
number of new shops have cropped up, but they all seem to be selling the same
old things – I’ve just spotted one or two changes, like a new brand of
margarine (so now there are two options instead of just one!) or that Ribena is
now in glass bottles and has gone up in price. I was excited to discover I
could buy rice flour, and by mixing this with maize flour have made my first
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dirt, only to discover that I was exactly where I thought I was and this road,
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Arriving
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many new faces, particularly among the missionaries. I am enjoying being
reunited with old friends, though very much missing close friends from England
and that ease of companionship that comes from knowing one another well. Psalm
18 is a comfort at this time, for God is that rock that never changes, the One
who is always there.</span></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-50847994383263570932014-10-14T12:24:00.000+03:002014-10-14T12:24:38.483+03:00Just do it<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Going
back to Tanzania is not as exciting for me as you might think. Although the
people and place are close to my heart, I know that returning won’t be easy. When
I stop to really contemplate what it will be like, I find myself wondering how
I will do what I feel burdened to do, how the living situation will work out,
whether I will be able to cope. I feel so inadequate, so weak, so unsure. At
the same time, I know that I can’t know everything before I go, and maybe I
need to just get on with it and see what happens. </span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">A
couple of weeks ago I popped home to spend the weekend with family, my head
full of such thoughts. At church that Sunday morning the pastor preached from
Ecclesiastes 11:1-6, a passage that includes these words:</span></div>
<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Whoever
watches the wind will not plant…</span></span> <span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">As you do not know the path of the wind…</span></span><span style="color: orange;"></span><span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">So you
cannot understand the work of God the Maker of all things.”</span></span><span style="color: orange;"></span></div>
</blockquote>
</div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">The
pastor pointed out that in God’s work we cannot be certain of the outcome and
so we shouldn’t wait for certainty but rather just get out there and do
something and trust the Lord of the harvest to work. This seemed to be a direct
challenge, and encouragement, to me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">And as
God so often does, He reinforced the point the following week. As I continued through
Romans in my quiet times, I reached Romans 15, where Paul tells the Romans of
his intent to go to Spain and visit them on the way. However, Tom Wright
comments:</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Did
Paul ever get to Spain? There is no evidence whatever that he did. But his
desire to do so, and the fact that he wrote Romans as part of the preparation
for such a trip, point out an extremely important lesson for us all. Perhaps
God sometimes allows us to dream dreams of what he wants us to do, not
necessarily so that we can fulfil all of them…but so that we will take the
first steps towards fulfilling them. And perhaps those first steps (as they
appear to us) are in fact the key things that God actually wants us to do.”</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">It struck
me that the passion I have to see my brothers and sisters in Tanzania growing in
knowledge of God through His Word and maturing in the faith should drive me
forward. Whether my dreams about this work will be realised may not matter, for
who knows what God may do along the way?</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Drawing
all of this together, I need to stop looking at the ‘wind’ (the challenges out
there and my weaknesses), and head to ‘Spain’ and trust God to do what He will
along the way. I need to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">just do it!</i> This
doesn’t mean that I am now full of confidence and raring to go, but I believe
God is gently encouraging me to give it a go. Please pray for courage!</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">(Quotation
taken from Tom Wright’s commentary, Paul for Everyone - Romans Part 2, p.125)</span></span></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-12382036599777341642014-08-05T22:03:00.000+03:002014-08-05T22:03:14.120+03:00I love you<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<![endif]--><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--rAarLGCTgI/U-Ep0oAxS5I/AAAAAAAABNk/83pyAiEEuBA/s1600/14.03.28+Iona+&+Ewan+(6).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--rAarLGCTgI/U-Ep0oAxS5I/AAAAAAAABNk/83pyAiEEuBA/s1600/14.03.28+Iona+&+Ewan+(6).jpg" height="197" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Three
words. So easy to say. So full of meaning.</span><br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I am
currently visiting my parents. On Sunday, my brother and his family joined us
for the day, as we all attend the same church. At some point in the afternoon
my three-year-old nephew, Ewan, put his arms around me and the conversation
went something like this:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Ewan: “I
love you”</span></i></div>
<i>
</i><div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Me: “I
love you too”</span></i></div>
<i>
</i><div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Ewan: “Why?”
[When do kids grow out of the ‘why’ stage?!]</span></i></div>
<i>
</i><div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Me: “Because
you are you” </span></i></div>
<i>
</i><div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Ewan: “I
love you”</span></i></div>
<i>
</i><div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Me: “I
love you too”</span></i></div>
<i>
</i><div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Ewan: “Why?”</span></i></div>
<i>
</i><div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Me: “Why
do you think?”</span></i></div>
<i>
</i><div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Ewan: “Because
it’s me”</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">As I
was lying in bed that night, reflecting on my day, this conversation came back
to me, and it struck me that right there, in that conversation, are some
wonderful truths about our relationship with God…</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">It was
so sweet to hear those words from my nephew’s lips, so warming, and I just
wanted to hold him tight and never let him go. Children can be fickle – at
another point in the day he had hit me, and sulked in the naughty-corner for
some time until he was willing to say sorry to me, after which spontaneously
came, “I love you”. The words were just as sweet to me then, even though he had
been naughty and unrepentant, as they were when he was full of smiles and fun.
I also wonder how much my nephew really understands what he is saying, he doesn’t
really know yet what it means to love someone through all the ups and downs of
life, but that doesn’t make his words any less sweet or any less genuine at
that moment in time. Maybe God feels the same – maybe it is just as sweet in
his ears to hear us say, “I love you”, even though we are fickle, even though
we do not truly grasp the fullness of meaning in those words, even though we
often demonstrate a very unloving attitude and our affections can easily be
drawn elsewhere, yet his father-heart for us is much greater than my
aunty-heart for my nephew, and so hearing us turn to him and say, “I love you”
is a truly sweet sound in his ears.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">And
then there was my response, which was not a theologically thought through
answer, but just the first one that came to me, and the truth – I love Ewan
just because he is Ewan, because he is my own dear nephew, even though he can
drive me crazy at times. Does this not also, in a very small way, reflect
something of how God loves us? It’s not because of anything I have done (Rom.
5:8), He just loves me because I am me, because I am part of his family. If
only I were as quick to grasp this as my nephew was to grasp why I loved him!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">May
we, as Paul wrote to the church in Ephesians,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“…have
power…to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and
to know this love that surpasses knowledge – that you may be filled to the
measure of all the fullness of God.” Ephesians 3:18-19</span></i></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-77910152717408633022014-06-29T17:36:00.004+03:002014-06-29T17:39:21.331+03:00Who will go with me?<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Over
recent months I have been thinking about returning to Tanzania. In many ways
this might seem the obvious thing to do now that my MA is over and my Redcliffe
post was only ever intended to be short-term, but it does <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not </i>feel like an easy decision. However, as I have made enquiries,
the doors seem to have remained wide open to returning there. So just a few
weeks ago I turned to God in prayer again with that question that is perhaps at
the heart of my slowness in making this decision: “Who will go with me?” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> </span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">One of
the things I find hardest about being involved in overseas mission are the many
transitions and how these comings and goings affect relationships. This is one
of the things that drove me to returning to the UK, in the hope that back here
I might have a better chance of meeting someone to share this life-journey
with. I have stalled in making plans to return overseas while this situation
remained unchanged, but I’m tired of waiting and want to move on. However, this
does not make the prospect of returning easy, rather than excitement I feel
apprehension and while I look forward to many aspects of life in Tanzania I
also know fear over how I will cope with the sense of alone-ness.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">And so
I found myself asking that question in prayer, “Who will go with me?” and God
reminded me of a verse that has been in my mind a lot recently, since a sermon
at my home church on God’s presence. Moses asks God pretty much the same
question, after God tells him to lead His people. And God’s reply to Moses was:</span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> <span style="color: orange;"> <b>“My
Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” </b>(Ex. 33:14)</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Well,
there’s my answer. It felt like both an answer to my question and an
affirmation that I should go. To be honest, in some ways this doesn’t make
things any easier, because that was something I already knew! However, there
was something in the timing of it all that spoke to me at a deeper level. If I
look back, though there have been hard times, I can also testify that God has
always gone with me, He has never left me truly alone. Though the transitions
continue to be tough and I have also been through a very dark time spiritually,
wrestling with God and doubting that He is the God I have always believed in (a
topic for another blog post?), I also know deep down that God has never left me
and never will, and will always provide for me relationally in one way or
another.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">So, I
continue to make plans to go to Tanzania and daily remind myself of this
promise so that I might have strength to move on.</span></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-5258940542204656422014-06-11T14:54:00.000+03:002014-06-11T14:56:55.887+03:00Different but the same<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<![endif]--><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d_k59rXEAtA/U5hC_e74AyI/AAAAAAAABM8/yPXIKajeQcA/s1600/P1020457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d_k59rXEAtA/U5hC_e74AyI/AAAAAAAABM8/yPXIKajeQcA/s1600/P1020457.JPG" height="198" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">A
little while ago I popped in to visit good friends of mine on the way back from
the shops. They lived just a two minute walk from my home in Mbeya and now they
are just a ten minute walk away from my home in Gloucester. I would frequently
pop into their home when we lived close by in Tanzania, and as I dropped round
to their Gloucester home I suddenly realised how bizarre it was – every aspect
of that walk to the shops and to their home was many miles removed from
Tanzania (both metaphorically and literally) and yet underneath it was the
same!</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Instead
of a dirt road, it’s tarmac. Instead of going to lots of little shops I could
go to one or two big shops. Instead of shillings it’s pounds. Instead of
Swahili it’s English. Instead of asking at the counter I walk around. Instead
of very little choice I’m swamped with options. Instead of a shop-owner with a calculator
it’s a touch-screen, self-serve checkout. Instead of dodging daladalas I’m
walking along pavements and crossing at traffic-lights. Instead of a cool
cement house it’s a centrally-heated brick house.</span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">But I
got food and I saw friends. Different
but the same </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">:-)</span></span><br />
</div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-22717494542754218162012-11-04T18:54:00.000+03:002012-11-04T18:57:33.333+03:00Back to the books<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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</xml><![endif]--><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a74HblRnlPM/UJaOB_MjxgI/AAAAAAAABLM/KmdiWzbLay4/s1600/P1040427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a74HblRnlPM/UJaOB_MjxgI/AAAAAAAABLM/KmdiWzbLay4/s320/P1040427.JPG" width="244" /></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">When I think about
it, I’ve never really been far away from books – all my growing up years I’ve
loved the written word, devouring books from the county library, reading in the
car (much to the disgust of my parents who wanted me to look at the scenery)
and reading late into the night when my parents thought I was fast asleep. As I
grew older the number of books I consumed per week dropped considerably, as
other things filled my time, but still the books were near at hand. And then I
became involved in making and formatting books in other languages, so that now
I can’t read a book without noticing double-spaces where they shouldn’t be or spotting
inconsistent indentation that most people would never notice! Now that phase of
my interaction with books is behind me for a while, but the skills learnt come
in handy for crafting my essays and my consistent love of books makes the
library a pleasant place to study. </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Reflecting on the centrality of the
written word in my life, I am brought back to the centrality of the most
important written Word, the Book of God. In a recent essay I
was reflecting on Luke 24, where we read of how Jesus walked with a couple of
His followers on the road to Emmaus and later appeared to all of His disciples
as they met together. They were confused by Jesus’ death as they had
thought that he was the one they were expecting who would liberate Israel. And
what did Jesus say to them? “How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to
believe all that the prophets have spoken!” (24:25). How would they have known
what the prophets had spoken? Because it was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">written</i> in their Scriptures (our Old Testament). And later Jesus
says to them, “Everything must be fulfilled that is <i>written</i> about me in the Law
of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms.” (24:44) Here I see two things. Firstly,
the importance of the written Word. God has chosen to reveal Himself through
the written Word. Yes, He has revealed Himself ultimately in Jesus, but even
Jesus chose not to immediately disclose who He was to the disciples after His
resurrection, but first pointed them to the Word – everything was already
written there. After opening the Scriptures to them, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">then</i> he revealed his own identity. Secondly, I see how even Jesus’
closest disciples hadn’t understood what was written and Jesus needed to
interpret it to them. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">What are the
implications of this? Firstly, the importance of the Bible, through which God
makes Himself known (indeed, it is one of many means, but clearly a primary
one). Do I/we devour the Bible as I devoured books as a child, for this is how
I will come to know more of my God, my Creator, my Father? What about those who
don’t know how to read or don’t have any books in their language? How important
it is that God’s Word is made accessible to them, through written and oral
mediums. It is this concern that drives the work of Wycliffe Bible Translators
as they translate the Bible into people’s mother tongues, teach people to read
it and make it available in audio formats. Secondly, the
importance of teaching the Bible. Just as Jesus needed to interpret God’s Word
to His disciples, so people today need help understanding what is written – it
doesn’t all make sense on the first read! But as our eyes are opened we see
more of who Jesus is and can grow in our intimacy with Him, our friend, brother
and Saviour. Who/what helps you to understand the Bible? Do you need help? Or
who can you help? This is what drives Wycliffe’s work of Scripture Engagement,
which I have been involved in for the past five years in Tanzania. I
hope that this year of study will better prepare me for this role of helping
others dig into God’s Word and find the treasure within, just as I myself need
to keep digging, so that I might day by day find my identity to be more
securely rooted in being the beloved of God and learn to wait on and trust in
Him in all things.</span></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-39985038381711285252012-08-15T18:09:00.001+03:002012-08-15T18:10:26.449+03:00Identity crisis<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LsOWC-84IIk/UCu7HXnr4nI/AAAAAAAABKo/k-uOIaLhsB8/s1600/12.08.11+Ryton+Pools+with+Ewan+%284%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="168" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LsOWC-84IIk/UCu7HXnr4nI/AAAAAAAABKo/k-uOIaLhsB8/s200/12.08.11+Ryton+Pools+with+Ewan+%284%29.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Aunty Katherine</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">People ask how I’m
settling in and does it feel strange to be back. The answer is always yes and
no. In some ways it feels completely normal to be here, I am so happy to be
with my family once again and Tanzania
seems a dream, while in other ways I miss my life in Tanzania a lot and feel out of
place here. As I’ve reflected on this, I’ve realised that one of the reasons
for these confused emotions is a crisis of identity. In Tanzania I had a clear identity – I
had a role (Scripture Use Coordinator), a home of my own, a clear social
network (through work and church) and a purpose to each day. Now who am I? I
don’t have a role (maybe I could create one with a new handy acronym that
sounds like some exotic language: ‘Basipakaak’ – ‘Between assignments Scripture
Impact person also known as Aunty Katherine’), I don’t have a home to call my
own (though my parents kindly let their home be mine), I don’t have a clear
social network (my friends are scattered all over the world and UK) and I don’t
have a clear purpose to each day (though I do have a long To Do list of random
things).</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">This loss of
identity leads to a very unsettled feeling, which is an inevitable part of
transition. I know I will pass through it, and probably soon be wishing that I
could go back to my routine-less, purpose-less days, when I have to start
writing long essays and reading lots of heavy theological and missiological
tomes! But until that time (and that’s yet another transition – to community
college life and studying) the unsettled feeling remains.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">So, if you ask me
how I’m doing, and I give the polite British answer of, “Fine, thanks”, you
will now understand that the real answer is much more complicated! However,
hopefully this little blog will have helped you understand something of what I
am <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really </i>feeling. Thanks for your
prayers.</span></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-59544293152727381942012-08-15T17:59:00.001+03:002012-08-15T18:00:23.477+03:00How i c it<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CmvOY9_H4tk/UCu42JgCRcI/AAAAAAAABKg/Ba-lMiJTZMM/s1600/12.07.28+Baddesly+Clinton+%287%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CmvOY9_H4tk/UCu42JgCRcI/AAAAAAAABKg/Ba-lMiJTZMM/s320/12.07.28+Baddesly+Clinton+%287%29.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>English country garden with soft grass!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">I’ve been back in England for over 2 weeks, and as I’ve reflected
on some of the differences between life in Tanzania
and England,
I’ve come up with a little list of things beginning with ‘c’:</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><b>Cushiness</b> –
everything in England
seems to be soft and cushy, from carpets to grass to toilet paper. This is in
stark contrast to homes in Tanzania,
where floors are usually either dirt or cement, grass is usually scratchy and
toilet paper (if available at all) is somewhat thin and rough. While I enjoy
the softness, there are many other aspects of England’s
cushy lifestyle that I find harder to accept as it demonstrates the wealth and
consumerism of a country which, even in a time of economic crisis, still seems
opulent compared to Tanzania.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><b>Costliness</b> – linked
to the above is the high cost of everything. I still find it hard to stomach a
meal that costs the equivalent of a week’s wages for a casual labourer in Tanzania, even though I know it would be
virtually impossible to get even a basic meal here for what I’d pay for food in
Tanzania,
and everything is relative.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><b>Civility</b> – people in England
are very civil and polite, but somehow lack the warmth and openness of
Tanzanians. I find myself greeting people I don’t know with a friendly, “How
are you?” only to be ignored or see confusion in their faces. I am starting to
learn the British, “Hi” accompanied with the little nod of the head and moving
on. I miss the ease with which you can get into conversation with people in Tanzania,
whether it be the person you are sitting next to on the bus or the lady selling
bananas at the market.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><b>Closed in </b>– I feel
very closed in, almost to the point of claustrophobia, due to the indoor
lifestyle. Due to England’s
adverse weather conditions, our lives are predominantly indoor ones, and due to
the Brits' love of privacy, any ‘outdoor’ happens in the back garden where
no-one can see you. (Of course, there’s exceptions such as outdoor sports and
country parks, but on a regular day to day basis, one finds that people get
home from work, shut their doors, and that’s the last you’ll see of them until
the next day). After the predominantly outdoor, communal lifestyle of
Tanzanians, I have found this almost claustrophobic. Which leads me onto
another ‘c’…</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><b>Community (or lack
of!!) </b>– it feels rather isolated here, because it is a very individualistic
society. While community in Tanzania was not necessarily all it’s cracked up to
be, at the same time, there were nearly always people who would be happy to
have you visit or with whom you could talk, you would be recognised by people
as you walked around town and could stop to chat and people generally had time
for one another. Here people lead such scheduled and private lives, that you
can feel completely alone. I sometimes felt very alone in Tanzania too,
but for different reasons.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">And so the list
goes on. I’ve generally focused on the negative, but of course it’s not all
bad. A lot of it is just different and takes some adjusting to, after having
been used to another culture for the past five years. However, I hope that I
can hold onto the good of the culture that I’ve been a part of, and not leave
it all behind in the country that I have said goodbye to for a while.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">What about you, how
do you ‘c’ it? Any suggestions for more ‘c’s warmly (not just civilly)
welcomed. </span></div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-385578991493886792.post-32859035727395699212012-07-01T10:03:00.003+03:002012-07-01T10:05:51.727+03:00Is it all over?<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">From some of the
questions I have been getting about my plans to return to the UK, I sense
there is another question that is being asked behind them all, “Is it all
over?” The answer is a resounding, “No!” In my heart I am still ‘KJ in Tanzania’
– though I may not physically be in Tanzania for much longer my heart is still
that of a missionary called to serve God cross-culturally. Instead, the
question should be, “Where next?”, and this is a question that I am waiting on
God to answer over the coming year.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">During my time in
the UK
I will remain a member of Wycliffe Bible Translators UK and of the Uganda
Tanzania Branch of SIL International*. This will only change when and if I feel
God is leading me in a new direction. Officially I will be on ‘Secondment
return period’ (a fancy name for furlough) and ‘Study leave’. As a result, my
financial support system will stay the same, with gifts being processed through
Wycliffe UK
as usual. However, as I indicated in my newsletter, my financial needs will
actually be increasing due to the cost of the study program and the generally
higher living costs in the UK
compared to Tanzania.
If you would like to get involved in supporting me through this period, please
let me know.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">There is a prayer
in 1 Thessalonians (1:11) that I recently read, and which I would ask you to
pray for me, that our <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">God may make me
worthy of His calling</b> and may fulfil every resolve for good and every work
of faith by His power. I want to be worthy of the clear call God has placed on
my life to ‘go’ and to ‘teach’. I pray that over the coming year God will make
it clear to me <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">where</i> it is He wants
me to go and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">how</i> it is He wants me to
teach. Thanks for praying with me over the past five years as I have lived in Tanzania, and
for continuing to support me in this way as I look ahead.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">*SIL International
– a sister organisation of Wycliffe Bible Translators. I was sent to Tanzania by Wycliffe UK, and am seconded to the Uganda
Tanzania Branch of SIL in my work here.</span></div>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10030800203287779630noreply@blogger.com0