Approval

Recently I had a huge wake-up call regarding my unhealthy need for others' acceptance and approval.  I have always struggled with wanting to be liked and would readily admit to being a "people-pleaser."  This has certainly ramped up a notch after moving across the world.  Not only do I struggle valiantly to be liked here, but I also struggle to keep others' favor from back home through my blog posts, emails, whatsapp messages and Facebook statuses.

Seeking my worth in the number of social invitations I receive, or by tallying how many people "like" a post is setting myself up for frequent and devastating letdowns.  By doing this, I'm finding myself in the uncomfortable company of the Pharisees, who loved praise from men more than praise from God (John 12:43).  And Jesus asks the devastating question:  "How can you believe if you accept praise from one another, yet make no effort to obtain the praise that comes only from God?"  (John 5:45).

The Bible is pretty clear that our purpose in life does not revolve around how many friends we have - either in real life or virtually.  We are called to show love, kindness and compassion to everyone we meet, without expectation of being loved in return.

Matthew 5:46-47 makes this truth abundantly plain:  "If you love those who love you, what reward will you get?  Are not even the tax collectors doing that?  And if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others?  Do not even pagans do that?"

If our stated purpose is to become more Christlike, we need to take a hard look at the life of Jesus.   Early in his ministry, even his own family denied Him and labeled Him as being "out of his mind!" (Mark 3:21). As He prepared to die, even Jesus' closest companions fell away.  And John 15:18 says, "If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first."

I find it so comforting that our Savior knows first-hand our own pains of rejection and betrayal. He understands our very human need for acceptance and connection and also that this desire can only be filled by Him and not through the world.

So today I'm resting in these lyrics found in the beloved hymn, based on John 15:14, "What a Friend We Have in Jesus:"

Do thy friends despise, forsake thee?  Take it to the Lord in prayer!

In His arms He'll take and shield thee.  Thou wilt find a solace there.

The walk to school

Some days, I'm burdened by my own thoughts, or it's hot or raining and I don't appreciate my surroundings.  But most days I walk to school and I have to pinch myself to remember that, yes, I am the luckiest person ever:  that is the Indian Ocean there, and palm trees, and flowers regardless of the season.  It has to be the most gorgeous commute ever and so I thought I'd share some snapshots with all of you.

We first start up a hill that is surprisingly steep!

Then down a dirt road which is dusty in the dry season, and thick red mud in the wet season!

Sheep!  Always a surprise for this city girl.  They look and sound better than they smell...

I love this part of the walk, which provides blissful shade from the beating sun and feels like my own personal secret forest.



There is always something flowering along the many little shortcuts we take!

I will never, ever get tired of gazing upon the Indian Ocean.  It is amazing to see the many colors change throughout the day.  You can usually see barges in the distance.  In the foreground, there are always various piles of rocks, rubble, wood, etc. as there is usually a project going on "the Hill."

Names

One of the best parts of living in Tanzania is serving as part of Kids' Club and interacting with the kids that live in the quarry behind HOPAC. And one of the most powerful and touching parts of my week is in watching Shaun – the visionary for Kids' Club – walk around and greet each of the 130 kids by name. The kids just light up as “Shauni” welcomes them by name.

I believe that learning and using each person's name is incredibly important and valuable. It sends the message to the person: “I care enough to remember who you are.” Conversely, if I am introduced to the same person over and over again, it says to me: “I haven't invested the time to remember you.” One of the worst examples of this we witnessed was after Tim had worked at a place for a number of months. We saw his boss in a different setting and he introduced himself without a glimmer of recognition!

For that reason, I'm trying really hard to learn the names of the kids in Club but it is so difficult.  Here in Tanzania, most kids – both boys and girls- keep their hair really short, so that's not a clue I can use. Hair color, skin color, and eye color do differ to an extent from child to child, but it's certainly not as drastic as blue eyes or blonde hair.  Clothing is interchangeable between the sexes and it's not uncommon to see boys wearing pink or purple. Many names sound the same: Asha, Aisha, Alidi, Ayubu (and that's just the A's)!  Finally, all names are reported to me in Swahili by little kids. Even in English, it's sometimes difficult to understand the little ones that are just learning to talk....in Swahili, this is even more challenging!

Obviously, as with any skill or talent, some people are naturally better at this than others. However, the One who is the most amazing at this is God: He knows us all by name.  That's all 7 billion of us. Isaiah 29:1 says that “Before I was born, the LORD called me; from my birth he has made mention of my name” and he has actually engraved us on the palms of His hands (Isaiah 49:22). 

The Bible makes it clear on many occasions that names are important – not only ours, but God's. In fact God's name is so holy that we only know it as “I AM WHO I AM” (Exodus 3:14) and the Israelites would actually eliminate the consonants when writing it down, to avoid accidental misuse of His name. Unfortunately in today's society there is much less fear of profaning God's identity.

John 10:3 gives a beautiful picture of us as sheep, following our shepherd, Jesus. “He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.”

When we get to heaven, we will receive a “white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it.” (Revelation 2:17). Also found in the last book of the Bible, Revelation 21:27 reminds us that only those whose names are written in the Lamb's book of life will enter the kingdom of heaven.

At that time, we'll finally see the Name above all Names!

Adventures with Tanzanian vegetables

Last year, I really focused on trying to make American foods for my family at home (well, Tanzanian versions of American foods due to the necessity of substitution or revision!)  I figured that we had enough adjustment issues going on without giving up all the comforts of home.  However, this year, I'm going to try and take more advantage of Tanzanian-specific produce and dishes.

My first initiative was to cook magimbi (white yam).  I've always seen these in the market and been too shy to try them.  They look very imposing from the outside, with a thick, almost woody exterior.  Once you slice them, they are very pretty with white and purple speckles.

It was a bit of work to peel off the exterior.  Once cutting into them, I realized how incredibly starchy they are!  The knife I used was absolutely coated with a white, sap-like substance, and my hands were sticky just by handling them.

I simply prepared them like a potato - first peeling and chopping them, then boiling them.  Once they boiled, the color changed from the white/purple speckle to all purple.  Again, due to the high starch content, the cooking water was very frothy.

I found the taste like an incredibly starchy potato.  It was a bland taste, but a very different, almost creamy, dense texture.  I also felt like my mouth was drier after eating it.  Due to the high starch content, they were very filling.  I can see why these are popular among Tanzanians, because they keep you full and are very inexpensive (less than $1 a pound).

I don't know if he was just really hungry, but Josh was crazy for these!  He had about 4 helpings and raved about how delicious they were (and even chowed down some leftovers a couple of days later!) Charlotte didn't really care for them, and Tim, Emily and I were fairly neutral.  I would say that I'd still prefer a standard potato, but I certainly had no problem eating them.

Today, our gardener, Ayubu, proudly presented me with a LARGE bunch of mchicha (kind of like spinach) that, unbeknownst to me, has apparently been growing in our yard.

Per my friend Heidi's tutorial, I fried some onions, carrots, garlic, tomatoes and salt and stir fried the mchicha with them until tender.  Unfortunately, it was not a win with the kids as they complained of an "after-taste."  Tim and I didn't mind it, although I do prefer regular spinach more.  I think I'll try the rest of the mchicha raw in a salad tomorrow and see what the reaction is.

Dada Ray

Here in Dar, most Westerners employ a Tanzanian woman, called a "dada" (Swahili word for "sister") to help with the housework.  In a land without dishwashers, clothes dryers or vacuum cleaners, there is a lot more work to do each day.

This wonderful woman in our lives is called Rehema, or "Ray" for short.  She just turned 25 years old on August 28, and she is a Muslim originally from Tanga (the north part of Tanzania).  She has been working for us since last September and we are so thankful for her.  She is a hard worker, very honest and has a pretty good grasp of English.  Here she is, posing with Emily!

Ray works for us about 30 hours a week, from around 9 a.m. - 3 p.m., Monday to Friday.  Until June, we had no washing machine and so she hand-washed all our clothing, every day. Although we now have a machine, she still needs to hang out all the laundry to air dry on the clothesline.  In the rainy season, this involved even more work as she would trudge it all outside, hang it up, see it start to rain, trudge it all inside and re-hang it on the clotheslines under the roof, see the sun come out, trudge it all back outside... some days this cycle would repeat three and four times!  Sometimes even despite all her valiant efforts to take advantage of the brief periods of sun, it would still take things 3 days to dry.  She also irons all the clothes (when we have power, of course!) and puts them away in our drawers and closets.

Among the many other things she does, Ray cleans our 4 bathrooms, sweeps and mops the floors, does all the dishes, empties the trash cans and hauls it all out to the burn pile.  She washes all our shoes, windows, patio, everything!  It's hard to describe the level of dust (in the dry season) and mud (in the rainy season) that accumulates.  It really is necessary to mop every day (and despite all this cleaning, our feet are still filthy on the bottoms from walking on the tile floors).

Ray lives quite far from us and so she must ride a crowded dala dala (bus) every day and then walk up a steep hill near our house just to get to the place where she then works so hard!

For all this effort, Ray is paid the equivalent of $100 U.S. per month plus her bus fare.  It still makes me uncomfortable to be paying someone less than $1 per hour for hard, manual labor, but this is a well-paying job by Tanzanian standards and Ray has told us often how grateful she is for the work.

Imagine doing all this work even while 8+ months pregnant!  Last Friday was her last day working for us as she is beginning her 3 month maternity leave.  The baby is due on September 17 and I'm sure that Ray is excited but also very nervous.  Infant mortality rates are astoundingly high here, and Ray lost her first baby, a girl, in February 2013, when she was only 3 days old, possibly due to jaundice.  This time, Ray told me she is determined to give birth in a private hospital instead of a government hospital.  The cost for a private hospital?  About $90 U.S.  I'm thankful that through the generosity of our supporters, we have been able to pay Ray through her maternity leave and so she can afford a better-quality hospital.

In her typical, hard-working way, Dada Ray set up her maternity replacement before she left:  her cousin, Dada Sarah.  Ray took Sarah with her to work last week so that she could introduce her to us and show her the routines.  Ray is very concerned for us because Sarah only speaks Swahili!

Although we are so thrilled for her to become a mama, I already miss her terribly.  Ray is a very quiet person but her presence in the house was always so uplifting.  Over time, we learned each other's routines and preferences and had an easy familiarity with each other in the house.  It's hard to have a new person in my space, especially someone that speaks NO English and still doesn't know the way we prefer things to be done!  I'm sure we'll adjust but it will be a time of transition.

Please pray for Ray and the safe arrival of her baby!  And also please pray that my Swahili gets better, quickly, so that I can begin to get to know Dada Sarah (and help instruct her as to where my pots and pans should go!)