I like being here a lot. I love getting to know the people, learning the language, learning what it means to love and learning how far the love of my God really reaches. I love it even when I feel like dirt never comes off my feet and it's so hot and humid that I can't move without sweating, because I know that in this dirt and mess Jesus is with me still. I like learning about people’s lives and their stories and the realness of them. Especially because I feel like people can’t hide the mess of their lives so well here, where as in America we just do a better job of making it look like we’ve got everything together.
Not to say that things are constantly all wonderful and amazing here either. Even though I know I should seek the beauty in every single day, there are days that I forget to look. Days that just seem normal and that nothing special has happened. It goes back and forth, because there are memorable days when I feel so confident and sure of God’s plan for me and stand amazed at all He is doing in my life and the lives of people around me. Then there are the days where I just don’t know what I’m doing here at all. Where I feel like I can't do anything right and I wonder if anything I am doing makes any difference at all.
As I wonder if I am doing anything that matters, God reminds me that I am not the one who will change lives or do anything amazing. That is His job. Mine is to love the person in front of me, and I am learning more of what that means and looks like every day.
Paul writes in 1 Cor 15:58, "So then, my dear friends, stand firm and steady. Keep busy always in your work for the Lord, since you know that nothing you do in the Lord's service is ever useless".
Nothing. No matter how small, every act of love matters. And the love is the most important part, because actions in themselves are empty anyway. It's the love of Jesus that changes lives.
I need His help so much because it doesn’t work trying to make myself love like Him on my own. And sometimes I get so caught up in distractions and little things that don’t matter, that I forget just how pitiful my attempts are.
And even though I really do not like messing up and getting it wrong, the times when I realize how imperfect and weak I am, there is a strange sense of comfort of knowing how impossible it is to do it on my own. Of how short I really fall from the perfect holiness and majesty of all that is my God.
Because when I feel like I’m not doing enough and feel lost and confused and like I failed at loving like I’ve been loved, I open the pages of the Bible and read that still He is with me.
That He is mighty to save, that He takes great delight in me, even when I struggle to grasp why.
That even before He laid the foundations of the earth He chose me to be His own. To be perfect and blameless in His eyes. His adopted child, ransomed by Jesus’ blood, because that was how much the God of the universe wanted me, me, and poured out this love to us all in a beautiful thing called grace.
It’s this kind of grace that doesn’t depend on me and my shortcomings that picks me up and gives me hope that God can use me. A trust that He is doing something even when I can’t see it or feel it. That He started a good work in me, and it is HIM who will complete it. In all of my failures and mistakes that it takes to get there I know it’s going to be okay somehow, because my defense is in Jesus and He will never fail.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Moringa
A little over a year ago I finished my thesis just in time to graduate. It was on a plant called Moringa and how it's seeds could be used to purify water. The idea sounded really exciting to me; like God's natural solution to the problem in developing countries of people who don't have access to clean drinking water. Instead these people drink water from unprotected ponds, creeks and rivers, causing intestinal worms, malnutrition, diarrhea and even death - especially in children. I was amazed to learn that Moringa evens grows best in the parts of the world where malnutrition is the most prevalent. I researched and planned and spent countless hours collecting information about the importance of clean water. How it purifying water with Moringa could reduce so many preventable diseases and their devastating effects. This was going to be so great.
Except, the experiment didn't work.
I was disappointed. Why was this happening? What went wrong? This plan was supposed to be flawless. I changed a few things and spend another whole day in the lab over spring break re-doing the experiment. I prayed, God, please let this work this time. I want this to work. I want to prove that this can help people.
It still didn't work.
I wrote my conclusion with it's failing results anyway. I hated making the "results" graph with the steady line that just reminded me of what didn't happen.
I graduated and went to Africa.
Moringa grows commonly here in Ivory Coast but few people know the extend of it's amazing health benefits. The leaves are packed with nutrition and can cure almost any vitamin/mineral deficiency. I get to help teach people about how to cook with this plant and how good this tree is that often grows in their courtyard or somewhere near where they live.
The other day we were in the village of Kogina where we are planting Moringa in Papa Trough's field. The term "field" here refers to a small area of cleared land in the middle of a vast expanse of wilderness, reached by walking a narrow winding path to get to. Trees and plants in every shade of green cover the hilly landscape and the scenery looks like a dinosaur sighting is could be completely possible, while above all the green the brilliant clouds are stretched out across the sky.
The man who lives in the little mud house or campemont in these fields works clearing and burning plots of land for planting. I follow a trail to the pond that him and his family get their water from, including their water for drinking. I can't help but take back some of the water in an empty water bottle to take it back to my house and test it out with the Moringa seeds. Just because.
After my excitement died down, I had to smile when I realized that God had answered my prayer from over a year ago. It was answered way later than I expected and in a completely different context than I ever imagined. But here it is. I won't pretend I know how and why God works the way He does. But I am amazed and stand in awe that I can pray to a God who hears, who sees, who knows, and who answers, even when it is in a way that is so different from the way I would have planned it.
Except, the experiment didn't work.
I was disappointed. Why was this happening? What went wrong? This plan was supposed to be flawless. I changed a few things and spend another whole day in the lab over spring break re-doing the experiment. I prayed, God, please let this work this time. I want this to work. I want to prove that this can help people.
It still didn't work.
I wrote my conclusion with it's failing results anyway. I hated making the "results" graph with the steady line that just reminded me of what didn't happen.
I graduated and went to Africa.
Moringa grows commonly here in Ivory Coast but few people know the extend of it's amazing health benefits. The leaves are packed with nutrition and can cure almost any vitamin/mineral deficiency. I get to help teach people about how to cook with this plant and how good this tree is that often grows in their courtyard or somewhere near where they live.
The other day we were in the village of Kogina where we are planting Moringa in Papa Trough's field. The term "field" here refers to a small area of cleared land in the middle of a vast expanse of wilderness, reached by walking a narrow winding path to get to. Trees and plants in every shade of green cover the hilly landscape and the scenery looks like a dinosaur sighting is could be completely possible, while above all the green the brilliant clouds are stretched out across the sky.
Grandmama and Papa Trough in their Moringa field.
The man who lives in the little mud house or campemont in these fields works clearing and burning plots of land for planting. I follow a trail to the pond that him and his family get their water from, including their water for drinking. I can't help but take back some of the water in an empty water bottle to take it back to my house and test it out with the Moringa seeds. Just because.
Amimatta and her father live and work in the fields.
The pond where Amimatta and her family get their water from.
Annd the experiment begins...
I pour out the dirty water into a jar,
pound a Moringa seed into powder, and mix it into the dirty water.
I wait about 30 minutes until it looks like all the dirt has been pulled to the bottom.
And then I pour the clean water on top into another jar.
IT WORKED. (!!!!!!!!!!)
It was a special moment and kind of ironic but even so I could hardly contain my excitement. This was for real! And to be able to share this with people that are living with the reality of drinking this kind of water is amazing. Not to mention so much more exciting than writing a 90 page thesis on it.
After my excitement died down, I had to smile when I realized that God had answered my prayer from over a year ago. It was answered way later than I expected and in a completely different context than I ever imagined. But here it is. I won't pretend I know how and why God works the way He does. But I am amazed and stand in awe that I can pray to a God who hears, who sees, who knows, and who answers, even when it is in a way that is so different from the way I would have planned it.
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