Wrestling with my conscience

This photo doesn’t really have anything to do with the post, but who doesn’t like a pic of some cute kids?!

I’m guessing a vast majority of Westerners who live in the majority world have hit this issue, I know it’s something that came up a lot when I lived in Kenya, and stayed in the back of my mind while we lived in Australia, and now it’s back, with a vengeance, on a whole different level now that we’ve added kids to the mix. Or maybe I’m just strange and most people don’t think about it at all.

What is it?

Well……there’s no easy way to say it, so I’ll just say it.

Affluence. Wealth. And the responsible, reasonable stewardship of said wealth.

I had an interesting experience a couple of weeks ago, that has weighed on my mind a lot since then. And really, to many, it’s probably not that big a deal, something that can be brushed off, justified, dealt with, but it’s stuck with me.

We are about to move house, we are moving into a place that belonged to teammates of ours who have left the country, and before them there was another AIM family living there. So along with the history and furnishings, come two lovely ladies who have been employed by those 2 families for a number of years. They are hardworking, wonderful ladies who rely on their pay to support their families. I had to have a very difficult conversation with them a couple of weeks ago, and basically tell them that we aren’t in a position to employ them both because we can’t afford their wages. It was not an easy conversation. It was not a pleasant conversation. It potentially has massive ramifications for one of the ladies as they lose full-time employment and a fair wage in a place where work and fair wages are not easy to find.

Fast forward 24 hours and we had parent-teacher conferences with the kid’s teachers and received their report cards. They did so well, we were so proud of them. They have not had an easy 8 months (leaving all that is familiar is not an easy thing to do for anyone, but is so much harder for kids who don’t really understand why, or what it means, and really are just coming along for the ride), and they exceeded our expectations for how they would do at school. I remember report-card dinner out when I was a kid, it made me feel so special, so we decided we wanted to celebrate the kids and their achievement and really everything about them ‘cos they’ve done so well, by going out for dinner. We weren’t going to go anywhere fancy – just one of the cheapest places we’ve found that’s close to us, where we like the food.

In order to do that though, I had to cut short my language lesson and tell my language helper that I could only do an hour lesson because we were taking the kids out for dinner. As I said those words it suddenly hit me – here I am, telling someone who is an invaluable help, who has become a friend, who I pay very little in the grand scheme of things, that I am going to take my kids out for dinner, and while I didn’t specify where we were going, I realized we were going out to spend about the equivalent of what I would pay her for 5 language lessons. And last night I’d told those ladies that we can’t afford to pay you both. But tonight I’m going to spend half of your wages. On just one meal.

And suddenly I’m thinking, and constantly think it now, how do we do this? How do we live our lives, make it as smooth as possible for the kids, and us, but live responsibly? Sensibly? As good stewards of what we have? I’ll be honest, financially it’s not always easy and there has been month left at the end of the money, but then if I start to compare with locals – we live in a mansion, we drive a huge car. Golly, we HAVE a car. We buy $11 boxes of cereal for our kids occasionally so that life feels a little bit ‘normal’ for them. We buy apples, and pay 60c each for them because ‘Do we have to have bananas all the time?’ We eat meat at least 4 times a week in a place where meat is a special occasion meal for most.

So how DO we do this? Do we take the frame of mind that plenty of locals live like us, live better than us, so it’s ok? Or we’re ‘rich foreigners’, it’s expected, so it’s ok? Do we give up those ‘luxuries’ that make life that little bit easier and a little more ‘normal’ so that we can live more like those who have less, far less, than us? Do we do nothing, stop thinking about it and just get on with it?

I don’t know that there is an easy answer, or an answer at all.
I guess the wrestling will continue.

The Peace Marathon

Sunday saw the running of the 11^th annual International Peace Marathon through the streets of Kigali, just up the hill from where we live. We thought it would be a neat thing to take the kids up to see it. So off we wandered at about 10 in the morning…..and it was quite odd – the usually busy main road was quiet, no traffic. There were a few people milling about and the odd runner would quietly pass – sweating profusely, eyes focused on the road (or maybe their feet?), no fanfare, no cheering or flag-waving or encouragement to spur them on (at least not in the section where we were).

Just them and the road and the desire to finish.

I’m sure there’s an analogy someone far cleverer than I can make about life being a marathon, but what struck me was just how lonely the experience, and determined you must have to be, to run a marathon. It was hot on Sunday – we worked up a sweat just walking all of 2 kilometres – those guys ran over 40. The hills around us are killers – they’re hard enough to walk up, let alone run. Granted, the course was set on the main roads, which run along the ridges, but still the difference in elevation for the course is up to 150m, and they’re already running at about 1600m above sea level. Don’t know about you, but that impresses me.

We just missed seeing the winners run our section, by a few minutes I’d guess (and the winners were Kenyan – of course!), but it was neat to see people from different nations taking part, and it was a great opportunity to chat with the kids about not giving up, even when something is really hard or even painful, and that not everyone can win, but it’s still important to give things a go and finish them to the best of your ability.

A good reminder for all of us really, in this marathon called life.

Getting our homeschool ON!

I think I can now officially call myself a “homeschooling mum”! Not a label I thought I’d ever have, but Makena and I have been getting our home-school on the last week and a bit. When we came here I expected to do a little bit of homeschooling, but it wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, or a long-term commitment. More a time-filler than anything else.

Well, we’re nothing if not flexible, right?

It turns out our smooth, planned out segue of moving to Rwanda and getting the kids into school was more akin to traveling a little-used bush track, than the smooth ride down a new highway we had pictured. The journey included roadblocks, bush-bashing, detours and washouts. As well as a fair bit of that “pancake fixing” I mentioned here, tears and a lot of questioning – are we even on the right road (in regards to school)? It’s a long story, won’t bore you with the details, but the outcome is that Makena and I are doing a fairly intense homeschool program – 7 hours of phonics, spelling, sight words, reading fluency, comprehension, grammar and maths (*grits teeth and repeats “Maths is fun” over and over*), 5 days a week for the next couple of months.

Last week we had a ‘honeymoon period’ – focus, enthusiasm, all-round great attitude, getting stuck into every task without question or complaint. It was delightful. I was confident, enthusiastic, even quietly thanking the school for messing us around and forcing this homeschool thing on us. This week – reality has hit. I’m seeing why school was so tricky for my girl in a whole new light, how much of a struggle reading is for her, and the clever not-so-great habits she has formed to avoid things that she perceives as too hard or simply not worth her time.

And this whole process has brought to light some home-truths about myself. Like, I’m not very patient with my own kids. Put me in a room with kids who swear at you, throw things or tantrums and I have all the patience in the world (well….to a point). Put me in a room, at a table with my kid who throws a pencil down in frustration, gives me a death stare and huffs ‘I can’t DO this’ and its all I can do not to snap back at her, “Yes you CAN, just give it another go. Read it again. You know this.” Gone in an instant is the patient, sit back and wait, don’t react negatively me.

Also, I don’t handle rejection well, especially through my kids. When we were told that the school was not going to take one of the kids and was questioning their ability to cater for the other, due to their results on the pre-admission assessments they did (don’t even get me started on standardised testing. I had little patience for it before, and even less now), well……lets just say you probably would have enjoyed being a fly on the wall and seeing the little tantrum I threw.

And I have the whole-self condemnation thing down to a fine art. “It’s all my fault. If only I hadn’t worked the last 3 years I would have been there for my kids more, I shouldn’t have studied because that took even more time away from them. If I weren’t working and studying I would have noticed how hard school was for Makena, I would have been able to help her. Why did we move here, ‘cos how are we going to get her assessed and helped and fixed now? What kind of a parent are you? Heck, what kind of a teacher are you to not pick this up?” Helpful. Not.

So clearly, I have some stuff to work on. But I have to say, despite all of that, I am cherishing this opportunity to spend time with my girl. To encourage her and be the one to see her excitement when she’s doing something well. To teach her new things and learn with her (like congruent shapes and order properties and – now I’m really showing my ignorance (what hope does the kid have?!) – that ‘tele’ is Latin for ‘far away’!). To have lots of time with her – just the two of us – something that I feel I’ve missed since she was a toddler. To help her with her learning and reading which I’ve mourned missing out on a lot over the last few years. In a way, I feel like I’ve been handed this opportunity to make up for lost time.

And that is a blessing.

 
 

Numbers

Maths is not my strong point. Numbers have never been my ‘thing’. But numbers seem to dominate life at the moment.

7 weeks of school left.
18 days until our deadline for support is reached.
70% to raise.
4 churches to visit.
53 days until we are due to fly out.
4 immunisations down, 5 more to go (each!).
5 Bible college subjects to finish.
1 house to pack, 1 tenant to find.
It seems like not enough days in a week or hours in a day to get everything done.

Honestly? It’s a hard place to be. If we don’t get 100% support, we don’t get to leave as planned.
The implications for not going, or not going YET, are massive – a whole different world of overwhelming.

I’ll admit – it’s gotten the best of me a few times, all I’ve wanted to do was crawl into bed, bury myself under the covers and sleep it all away, but that’s not an option.
So we look to the hills and hang on – trusting that He’s got us, He’s leading us and His timing is right.
And no matter what happens, He will continue to provide.

Thought that we would share a glimpse of camp – watching it keeps us focused and reminds us why we are going through all of this crazy!
Enjoy!

Part 2.

A continuation of The Backstory

Just to clarify, when I say application forms, it wasn’t a couple of pages with personal details etc. It was about 12 pages of every detail you can imagine – work history, personal history, our stance on various Biblical principles.
A week in (which equated to about 18 pages for my application alone) we were robbed and the computer was stolen.
Bye bye application forms, along with a lot of other stuff.

I lost my oomph at that point, the thought of starting the application again was not an exciting one.
(For some perspective, because at this point I feel like I’m sounding pretty pathetic! I also thought I’d lost 18 months of university coursework, hundreds of hours of personal reflection – a massive component of my Uni course, play therapy client notes, not to mention the personal documents, 5 years of teaching resources and family photos. I was a little overwhelmed! About a month later I discovered things weren’t quite that bad as I’d backed-up fairly recently & didn’t lose as much as I’d thought.)

During all of the time since the conference AIM had been sending us emails about the positions they had that needed filling – a huge variety of jobs in different African countries, with a multitude of people groups. Each time we received an email we’d look at it and rule it out for one reason or another – the main one being “It’s not in Kenya”.
In late October we received an email from AIM entitled “AIM youth work service options in Rwanda”. I almost didn’t bother opening it, but I did and discovered a job description that was almost an exact description of Pete’s current job. I texted Pete to tell him about the job (but not where it was), then forwarded the email – and heard nothing back. I figured it would be what had become the standard response – it’s not in Kenya.

But when Pete got home from work that afternoon, the first thing he said to me was, “So we’re moving to Rwanda?”

We halted progress on the SIM application (which simply meant not starting again!) and mulled over the pros and cons of completely changing our direction and heading to Rwanda. There were a lot of pros – much more temperate, school for the kids, not that much more difficult to get to Nairobi, a physically safer place. The cons – learning another language and being away from family and friends. The “it’s not Kenya” argument didn’t seem to factor in, but the “It’s too good to be true” argument did.
Eventually we decided that this was a God thing – why wouldn’t He provide an opportunity that exactly uses the gifts and passion that He’s given Pete?

We decided to go for it – started a whole new application form and submitted them about a week before Pete left for Kenya in December last year. We also added a Rwanda leg to his Kenya trip, meaning he was able to spend 3 days in Rwanda, checking out the camp, meeting the AIM team, & getting a very small taste of life in Kigali. He went to Rwanda with the hope that he would feel like we were headed in the right direction, he left feeling that we couldn’t not go!

And the rest, as they say, is history.

Trust

Today was interesting.

Hang on, let me back track. This week has been interesting.

One of the hurdles we have to clear in order to be approved members of AIM to go to Rwanda, is to get medical clearance. No problem, we thought. We are healthy, kids are healthy, all good.

Or not. As it turns out. Before you freak out – we are all medically fine, but the kids require a few ‘extras’ that, living where we do, aren’t that easy to access. Which means appointments booked. Weeks from now. Which means acceptance to AIM delayed longer, which means the green light to start raising a support team pushed back, which means the time we have to raise all our support is reduced. Which means trust. Hanging on for dear life, ‘cos what else can we do?

Trust in God’s timing. Trust that we will get there. Sometime. Somehow. His way.

Then today the sermon at church was about generosity and contentment.

And I sat there listening, being challenged to be generous for the work of the Gospel. But how much more generous can we be? Things are already tight and we have so many more expenses to cover this year. What more can we do? What more does He expect? Surely, being willing to give up everything we have here, to move to the other side of the world is enough?

Maybe not.

Trust. And follow His leading. No matter the cost.

And be content. Content in the uncertainty. In the feeling of powerlessness. In this step of faith. In trust.

A friend talked to me after the sermon, said she was thinking of me, of our situation. “You look content” she said.

I do? I don’t feel it on the inside. It was encouraging to hear, to know that to the outside world I’m giving the ‘right’ impression. But if I’m honest, can I say that I am content? That I am ok with being where we are – uncertain about what is going to happen, and when. Am I am willing to be generous, in all situations?

How do I reconcile Paul’s words:

I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.

With what I’m thinking in my head?

So I’m off to dig out my iPod and listen, for maybe the millionth time this month, to the song that I’m taking as my own personal anthem.

And hopefully, throughout this process I’ll be able to confidently, honestly say that ‘I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.’

An update…

I’ve ummed and ahhed over whether I should share the most recent development, (next chapter, perhaps?) to this post.  I put it out there to start with (as my mum helpfully pointed out), so I figure I may as well share the rest of the story.

The original post went up on Sunday night, almost 2 weeks ago. On the following Tuesday I was informed that I was being made redundant from my job.

Yep. Seriously.

It’s taken me this long to be able to talk about it without getting angry, or crying, or questioning God’s motives. But like mum reminded me – I put it out there. So can I live it?

I don’t know what the rest of the year holds. But I do trust God – and His provision. I have no idea what His plan is, though I’m guessing it’s going to be part of the adventure finding out. In the mean time I’ll be hanging on. For dear life.

Detours

Been doing a bit of heavy reading on spiritual warfare lately – it’s been quite challenging, in some ways a whole different way of thinking. I think generally we don’t like talking about spiritual warfare, we don’t like thinking about the battle that life is when we make the decision to follow Christ, we don’t like to acknowledge that the Enemy will take any opportunity to de-rail us, to throw distractions and confusion in our path so that we stop focussing on the Truth and focus instead on the distractions.

Last week was a bit rough. I found myself applying for a job – somehow I’d convinced myself it was the right thing to do. It was a good job too – working with teachers to help them support kids with additional needs, running training for staff, coming up with programs and interventions for kids to help them cope, and succeed, at school. Sounded amazing on paper – a logical next step, a chance to do something a bit different, learn some new skills, earn a bit more money that we could save and put toward Rwanda. And surprisingly, and possibly for the first time ever, I actually thought “I could do that. You know what, I reckon I’d be good at it.” So I convinced myself that I should apply, that I needed to apply. So I did.

But the further I got into the application, the more twisted up my thoughts became, I couldn’t get onto paper in a coherent way what I was thinking in my head, I couldn’t answer some of the questions at all. I went from all confidence and bravado to a snivelling, blubbering mess, curled up in a ball on the couch, burning through the tissues, unable to function or think straight.

And then I realised that I’d lost sight of the Truth, that I was focussing on a distraction. That what seemed like provision (I still think it would be an amazing job to have!), was actually a detour, and a bumpy one at that! And while there is probably nothing wrong with the desire to do something a bit different and to build my skills, for us right now, with all that needs to happen to get us to Rwanda, a new job is the last thing I need.

So thankfully, we are back on track. Distraction prayed about, dealt with, and we’ve moved on.  Hopefully the next distraction that comes along will be recognised for what it is and dealt with a little sooner! Feel free to pray with us about that, I have a feeling it won’t be the last detour we come across on this journey.

How about you – any distractions that you need to deal with?

A blog. Really??

So here it is. My first blog post ever.

I’m a bit of a closet blog reader, I have to admit. And I’ve thought about starting one for a while, but it seems like you’ve got to be an amazing wordsmith, or a brilliant photographer, or witty, or an expert on something, or crafty, or home-decoratory, or a homeschooling mum, or all of the above, in order to blog. Me? None of the above. Just a mum, a wife, a teacher, a student, a friend, a disciple of Christ, who truth be told, probably doesn’t have time to blog between working pretty much full-time, studying, parenting, wife-ing and the myriad of other things that fill my days. But then we went public with our news, that we are hoping to move to Rwanda, and people started asking why? How? When? Are you crazy? So I thought, “Why not?” It could be a great way of documenting our journey, of answering questions, of sharing our story. And if it’s only friends and family who read it, that’s ok. In fact, it’s probably best!

So here I am. Putting it out there. Terrible spelling/grammar and all. Oh, and to answer your question – yes, we probably are a little bit crazy!