Christmas is Coming!

Spending Christmas in Tanzania this year, I thought I wouldn’t be tempted to listen to Christmas music so early or to put up Christmas decoratations since they aren’t available in any of the shops here. However I underestimated my internal clock and right around mid-October, the urge to listen to Christmas music kicked in like it does every year. And by mid-November I had pulled out the few Christmas decorations I brought with me. Thankfully my parents brought some more decorations when they came to visit, including a little Christmas tree!

Being away from all the trappings, the commercial side of Christmas and yet still being drawn to it has really caused me to think about what Christmas is to me. What part of Christmas don’t I have here in Tanzania? Well I don’t have the advertisements, malls that are decorated, anything remotely related to Santa and his reindeer, Christmas movies, snow, cold, Christmas cards, Christmas banquets, parties, Christmas concerts, pagents, or even turkey. Do I miss them? To some extent, yes I do. Many of those things bring to mind good memories with friends and family and were also reminders that Christmas was on its way. Perhaps they even became Christmas for me in some ways. Therefore now there are moments when it’s tempting to think that Christmas isn’t coming to Tanzania this year.

So what do I have left of Christmas? The best part, the birth of Christ. Without the stress of braving the crammed malls, going to many different Christmas parties and everything else that kept me busy, I can see Christ so much more clearly. When I pull my eyes away from everything I think I’m missing to what I have, the birth of Christ looms clearly. We are celebrating him. He is the reason I am in Tanzania and now I get the chance to celebrate his birth. Everything else begins to pale in comparison.

I can still have some of my fun traditions and ways of celebrating. I have some decorations and Christmas music. I can bake Christmas cookies and give gifts. I have a great group of friends I will be celebrating with. But this year those things won’t rule my Christmas. This year they will be on the sideline as my focus remains firmly fixed on Jesus Christ.

Whose Money Is It Anyway?

Living in Tanzania means living in community in a way that I had never experienced in Canada. Most of the time it's great but there are a few drawbacks once in a while and one of those is related to money. I have been informed many times about this struggle but I never fully understood it until I found myself in the middle of it.

Let me set the scene. For the average Tanzanian, money is scarce and that makes life difficult, particularly when large expenses occur. These are often hospital bills, funerals and children's schooling. The only way they are able to deal with these types of difficulties is by coming together as a community. They openly ask each other for money and are expected to contribute, even if it is only a small amount. The expectation is particularly high for relatives, close friends and neighbours. They know they need to give when asked because one day it will be them doing the asking. Through this support system they manage to survive.

However as I begin to enter this system I throw the whole thing off balance. As a distinctly different coloured person in this society, my white skin screams 'money' to everyone I meet. People know just by looking at me that I have money (not as much as they think but still more) and they openly ask me for some. The truth is that I do have more money than the average Tanzanian and am willing to help meet needs wherever I can.

I had been told that being generous helps build friendships and so was prepared to participate in the community this way. At first it was fine. I generally ignored the many children outside my gate who randomly asked for money but was able to contribute when a friend needed some money for travel, a funeral or to raise money for a church building.

Then one week it changed. Little requests for money once in a while became large requests all the time. Suddenly it felt like all my good friends needed lots of money all the time and I was their main source. As much as I knew in my head that in this culture, asking for money from friends builds relationships, it felt as if they were destroying it. I started to feel used, as if they only wanted to get close enough to me that they could ask for money. And more and more people have begun asking to the point where I have to say no if I want to eat this month.

The latest request that had me throwing my hands up in the air was one for about $1000. I wish I had that kind of money to help everyone who asks but I don't, so where does that leave me? To add to my dilemma, the money I live on comes from people who give it to me so I can be here, helping to translate the Bible. So whose money is it anyway?

I think the only answer to that is that it is God's. I'm still trying to figure out what that means practically for me and how to deal with the fact that it makes me feel used. Mostly, I just pray for wisdom that I would be help people in need and yet still have what I need to live. It's not my money so I will trust God to see it put to the uses He intended.

The War is Won But the Battle Rages On

Although I have complete assurance that God is going to accomplish this work of translating the Bible and that nothing can stand against Him, it doesn’t stop the enemy from fighting us. Even though our enemy knows that he is defeated he is determined to take as many of us down with him as he can and prevent us from reaching people with the gospel.

Never has this been more real to me than with this first translation workshop. Starting the week before the workshop began, events escalating causing us to wonder what was going on. From personal financial difficulties to serious illnesses to major issues at the office the problems have not stopped. Issues continue to arise each week and sometimes I wonder if we will make it through the third week. The participants are also affected and sometimes have to miss sessions to attend funerals or take care of personal matters.

This battle was vividly demonstrated one morning when we were distracted from the lesson by a group of people attempting to cast a demon out of somebody next door. Over the screams of that person the participants tried to focus on how to translate Biblical key terms. We did take a moment to stop and pray for those people as well. But it was a very real reminder to me that Satan is doing everything he can to hinder us.

And I must admit that his strategy is effective. If he can wear us down with issues at home and frustration with things not working very well at the office, we lose our effectiveness quickly and are tempted to give up. If one of the key leaders of this workshop can't focus because of problems he has to deal with back at the office and because his child is sick, the work suffers. If participants miss too many sessions, they are not able to translate well. Little by little we are worn down, distracted and discouraged.

Thankfully, God does not leave us in this place but He brings people to join with us in one of the best ways possible, praying. Christians in all different parts of the world are praying and God is working. He is giving us the strength to go on when we have none and He holds everything together when we're sure it will fall apart and collapse completely. God answers prayer in so many ways and it demonstrates what the body of Christ can do when we come together, united by the power of Christ.

Perspective

I had a good dose of perspective this last weekend and I think God likes to give those to me occasionally. I spent Saturday and Sunday out at a village about two hours from Musoma. Hazel and I drove out with one of our Tanzanian friends we met at the Bible school named Sara. Sara brought one of her good friends along as well and both girls are loads of fun. The village is where Sara was born and grew up and where her parents and family still live.

When we drove into their yard we were greeted warmly by Sara's parents and sisters. Her mother couldn't stop telling us how thrilled she was to have visitors and of course how great it was to have Sara home again. We were welcomed warmly the entire time and treated as honored guests. It was fun to see pictures of Sara when she was little and get to know her family a little bit.

However throughout the whole time we were there I couldn't help but compare how this family lived to the way I lived. I thought back to how I complained that our floor is dirty all the time from the dust blowing in and looked at the dirt floor that the girls painstakingly swept and cleaned. I thought about my annoyance when our water stops for a while and knew that this family had to go far to get their water. I thought about how my hard mattress bothered me sometimes and knew that if any of those girls in that house had the luxury of their own room and nice big mattress they would be thrilled.

I have seen poverty before and I have stayed in a Tanzanian village before. Yet somehow this house and this family struck a chord within me and I felt the disparity between our lives. It brought my life sharply into perspective and suddenly I couldn't remember the Canadian luxuries that I sometimes miss so much but saw only the enormous blessings that I do have living in Musoma.

I wish that no one had to live the hard life this family does and yet there is a happy ending still to come. For on Sunday morning we all went to the same church to worship God and when you are standing before the Almighty God who loves each one of us equally, the disparity melts away and we are all sisters and brothers together. I watched Sara's mother dancing and praising God and knew that her happy ending has nothing to do with the physical things around her but with a God who gives her what she truly needs.

Does God want me to preach?

Whenever I say the words "should women preach in the church" people cringe, not wanting to discuss what is a sensitive issue for many people. Don't worry, this is not going to be a theological argument for women preaching in church. I've already been there and done that, concluding that this is a difficult issue and there is no clear solution that will satisfy everyone.

However, now that I am living in Tanzania, I face a unique dilemma in regards to this issue that never occurred in Canada. I have been asked to preach in a church Sunday morning on more than one occasion. The first time I was asked, I politely turned down the request as it was late Saturday night and I had no time to prepare. As well I felt that my Swahili was simply not up the task. Then about two weeks ago, a respected pastor who has a real heart for seeing the Bible translated into his language, asked me if I would preach in his church on Sunday, October 5. That gave me lots of time to prepare and my confidence in speaking Swahili had grown (even if my actual skills haven't improved). I looked at this face of this friend and knew I could not turn him down so I told him I would preach.

Looking back on that moment of decision I can see lots of reasons why I said yes. After getting some experience in teaching, I remembered how much I loved it and wanted the challenge of preaching God's word as well. I knew that preaching would be a great way to continue to improve my Swahili and also to continue to build my relationship with this pastor and the people at his church. I have only attended that church once before but enjoyed it.

However now as I am preparing my sermon and the nerves are starting to hit, I have begun second guessing my decision. Am I qualified to stand up in front of those people and preach God's word to them? What if I teach them them something wrong or what if my Swahili fails me while I am up there? I guess the real question is, does God really want me to preach this Sunday?

As I ponder that question I look back on how God has led me to this point. He spent many years preparing me in Canada, from my years at Bible school where I learned to teach and preach to last few years where I had practical experience teaching. During that time He gave me a passion to teach his word and to see it change people's lives. While I have been in Tanzania, He has continued that process and during this last month in particular has given me opportunities to teach and to preach in chapel. God has given me the skills to preach, the desire and the opportunity. I didn't ask for it but here it is and so I must conclude that this is where God is leading me. Therefore the answer to my question is yes, He does want me to preach this Sunday.

So I will put aside my doubts and fears and walk forward in confidence that God has everything under control and He will enable me to do what He has called me to do.

First Day in Class

"What is the first thing you're going to say in class?" a friend asked me the day before I had my first class. "Good question" I thought. Seeing as how I had never taught a college course before, I had no idea where to start. Add to that the fact that I was teaching in Swahili at a small Bible college in Tanzania I really had no idea how to begin my first psychology class.

Fortunately for me there are some excellent teachers at that school and one of the them began my first class by introducing me and then praying. I definitely needed all the prayer I could get. Looking out over the faces of the students I wondered if I could explain the importance and relevance of what I was going to teach this semester. I wondered if I could keep them awake for an hour and if they would understand anything I said. Not knowing the answers to these questions I plunged ahead.

Amazingly enough I enjoyed the class and the students were great! They understood what I was saying and felt free to ask questions and interact with what I taught. When I fumbled with my Swahili they seemed to understand anyway. I loved being up front, explaining different ideas about psychology to these students who were eager to learn.

I know there will be many challenges ahead as I continue teaching psychology or saikolojia as they say in Swahili. Trying to find words to explain classical conditioning or psychoanalysis for a language without this type of terminology can be overwhelming at times. But I have confidence in the students and most importantly, confidence in my God who has not brought me this far to leave me now.

A Typical Day is . . .???

I thought it might be interesting to try to describe a typical day in my life and then I realized that there is no typical day. Since I arrived in Musoma almost three months ago, practically every day has held something different for me. I expected that most days would be spent at the office working at my desk, and although I have had a few days like that, most days bring something out of the ordinary.

For instance, a couple of weeks ago I was spending every day at a church participating in a workshop with 30-40 Tanzanians. Once that was over my roommate, Hazel, and I decided to have our house painted and so one of us stayed home each day with the painter. Some days I would be at home, some days at the 0ffice. However one day when I was supposed to be at home, a meeting came up suddenly which I had to attend and so I spent a good part of my day much differently than I had anticipated.

Unfortunately or perhaps fortunately I don’t foresee my situation changing anytime soon. I begin teaching at a Bible college next week which will bring countless new and unexpected situations. As well more workshops are quickly heading my way and many preparations need to be completed in the meantime. As I am unsure of what all these preparations will entail, I have no idea what the next few weeks will look like.

A typical day in my life consists of the unexpected and though it may sound scary it is actually quite a bit of fun. It keeps me on my toes and reminds me that I need to constantly trust God. And to my surprise I have found that when everything seems to be spinning out of control it has only spun out of my control into the control of the all-powerful creator.

God's Strength in my Weakness

Just over two weeks ago I was nervously anticipating my first workshop and now I can't believe it's over already. I, along with a group of linguists, spent two weeks teaching speakers of eight different langauges how to read and write their mother tongues. As I look back over the last two weeks I can see how God came through and accomplished what I could not have in my weaknesses.

One of the first areas I was concerned about was my limited Swahili. Although I have studied Swahili for four months I still have much to learn. As well it was particularly challenging to incorporate linguistic terms into my lessons, some of which even the workshop participants were not familiar with. However God gave me the words when I needed them and somehow I communicated all the concepts to the people I was working with.

Before the workshop I was also praying about building strong relationships with the people I would work with. I ended up working with three Ikoma speakers and they were fantastic! They worked hard, caught onto new concepts quickly and were lots of fun to work with.

It was exciting to see these Tanzanians learn how to read and write their mother tongue. They have a passion for seeing the Bible translated into their own language and are very dedicated to that end.