Yesterday (26 January) marked my one-year anniversary of living in South Africa. I can’t believe that my first year has come and gone. I feel like I blinked and the year was over. Full stop.
I had a wonderful time being at home for Christmas. Words can’t describe how great it was to spend time with my family and to reconnect with old friends. I have returned to Cape Town refreshed and renewed. I’m ready for the new year of work, ministry, fun, and living more into my adopted home and culture.
I have come to the realization that I have two homes. It feels good to have two homes; but while I’m in one, I miss the other. I thought I would grow out of this longing, the longer I lived abroad; but I’m beginning to realize that this longing for Tennessee home or Cape Town home comes with the territory of living abroad, with the reality of having two homes. It’s a bit of a tension and somewhat ironic but necessarily a bad thing.
Wow—a year has passed and how much has happened in that year! This time last year, I was kind of living in a fog. I didn’t know what to expect; I had a ton of feelings swirling inside of me. Returning to Cape Town, I feel as though I am home, surrounded by my loving community and by so many familiar things—from certain decorations in my flat that make me smile to the beautiful mountains that I see every day.
Turtle is ready to cook.
And might I add, it’s great to be out of the deep freeze and into summer!
I have been home for two weeks, and it feels great. It’s like nothing has changed, like my family and closest friends and I have picked up from where we had left off. It feels great to be home.
I miss Cape Town and my South African family. It felt strange to be away from them when Madiba passed away. But I’ll see my South African fam in a few weeks. It feels good to have two homes. I like it.
It took me a few days to adjust to being home. Besides jetlag and going from summer to winter, there were other adjustments as well, cultural ones. Going to Wal-Mart the day after I arrived was not a good idea—too many people, too many American accents, too much camouflage, too many choices, and an overwhelmed me.
Welcome Home Party
I have changed, but it’s hard to pinpoint how. Here are a few observations: I think I’m more at ease speaking in front of a crowd. This year, I have had to speak on the spot and to prepare at the last minute for certain things. This was quite stressful for me, a careful preparer and planner; but I think it has led to some personal growth. Also, as a planner, I like to plan out my days, even if it is just in my head. Before I moved to Cape Town, I would go a bit nuts if things didn’t go according to plan; but living in a more relationship-focused culture is helping me to be more flexible and more people-oriented. I think I see this evolving trait a bit more clearly since I have been back home. Although I still plan out my days, I don’t really care, for the most part, if things don’t go according to plan. I’m just enjoying being with my family and friends. I don’t really care what we do as long as we are together.
Snuggling with my cuddle bug, Joey
I wonder if I will notice more changes in the weeks ahead.
Of people begging at the robots (traffic lights), asking for money, trying to sell me things or collect my trash.
Of singing worship songs in languages I don’t understand or can’t pronounce.
Of people having difficulties understanding me or of my having difficulties understanding them because of
1st South African Cheesecake
our accents.
Of the time it takes to bake any of my favourite things because I have to convert the measurements (sometimes twice) or hunt around for ingredients that are hard to find.
Of feeling pulled in many directions, from people, from projects, from commitments that demand my time. Sometimes I just want to do what I want to do. Sometimes I want space. God, could you please place me in timeout?
Of the use of archaic words, such as “whilst,” in everyday English.
Of trying to find the balance between a relational culture and the reality of time constraints and deadlines.
Of seeing the worst of American culture imported to this beautiful country, giving South Africans a warped view of my country and heritage.
I’m not unhappy. I still love my life and work in Cape Town; but even in the best of times and in the best of circumstances, cross-cultural living can be challenging.
When I was younger, I used to think that God would call me to do something that I would totally dislike. Even worse, I thought he would call me to live in a way that would run contrary to how I was wired. I was so wrong, having a warped concept of God’s love for his children and a lack of understanding of his desire for us to live an abundant life. God has equipped each of us with certain gifts and talents in order to use for his glory, for the general good, and for our enjoyment. I don’t think he would call us to live in a way that was contrary to how he made us.
A few years ago, I had the pleasure to meet Emanuel Ax, one of my favorite pianist.
This is how I see it: The kingdom of God is like an orchestra, and each one of us is gifted to play a particular instrument. God, the conductor, wouldn’t call a violinist to play percussion; but God, at times, would stretch the violinist out of her range, training and disciplining the violinist to become the best violinist that she can be and thus helping the orchestra to become the best it can be. At times in our lives, God may call us to play out of our range; but I don’t think he would call us to play an instrument that we aren’t equipped to play.
I see this reflected in my life in South Africa. God has definitely called me out of my comfort zone, but I am still living a life that complements my nature. I live in a beautiful city, not the bush. I am able to use my gifts and talents in youth ministry and publishing to help the church, instead of being asked to use gift sets that I don’t have, such as planting a church.
What are your thoughts about God’s work and call in our lives? What instrument do you play in God’s orchestra? I would love to hear your thoughts.
I wonder if people wonder why I don’t write more about work. It’s an easy explanation. Although I love my work and find it very fulfilling, my day-to-day work often takes the form of emails, phone calls, writing, editing, planning, and coordinating projects. The details of doing such things are just not exciting to write about, but the fruit of the work is very rewarding.
A couple of weeks ago, I was having a Skype conversation with a good friend who is a missionary in France. Neither one of us is a “conventional” missionary, and we were talking about the challenges our callings pose and the freedom they give. Our world has changed a lot, even during our short lives; and the way of doing missions has changed too.
blown away at staff retreat in Hermanus
It’s kind of exciting being a missionary in the early part of the 21st century. It is like God has unleashed his creativity, encouraging and calling people to use their gifts and talents, regardless of what they might be, to help build his kingdom. In my case, I’m working with an organization, Growing the Church (GtC), that helps the Anglican Church of Southern Africa to grow in numbers and spiritual formation. As my work at GtC evolves, I am beginning to understand that although most people living in the countries that make up the province may be Christians, many of them have not been discipled well, mainly because of a lack of resources and knowledge. I feel privileged and honored that I can use my gifts and talents in youth ministry and publishing to play a small role in what God is already doing in our province.
I’m waffling over whether to click “publish” or not. Dare I—or not? I’m a bit embarrassed to publish this post; but as I said from the beginning, my blog will reflect my experiences of living cross-culturally. I won’t gloss over difficult situations or paint things in a rose-colored lens. Yet what I have written about is very first world. Even if my American and South African friends can’t relate, I think they will respect my honesty; and I know they will love me all the same, so here goes…
Budget Man puts the squeeze on iPhone.
Ever since I arrived in Cape Town, I have been borrowing my boss’s spare mobile phone. It was time for me to get my own phone, and I had my heart set on the iPhone 5. Earlier this year, a local carrier had a good deal for the iPhone 5; but I hadn’t been in the country long enough to have all the required paperwork to get the phone on contract. Months later, when I did have the paperwork, the deal had ended and the iPhone 5 was way out of my budget. Ok. I thought. I’ll get the iPhone 4s. Well, it was still out of my budget, but I tried my best to justify it: It will sync with my laptop and tablet. I love the iPhone; I’m familiar with it. I can use several apps to stay in touch with my family. I need it to stay in touch with my family.
I spent several weeks researching all types of smart phones and looking at several local carriers, trying to find the best deal. I crunched numbers, trying to squeeze the iPhone 4s in my budget. I agonised over whether or not to purchase the phone or to buy a certain android phone, which was in my budget. (Gasp—I can’t go droid!) I was fretting about what to do. Finally, I accepted that I couldn’t afford the iPhone, and I began to pout. A week ago, when I was having a pouty conversation with God, I felt God say to me, Get a grip. You are whining over stepping down from a Mercedes to a BMW, whereas most people are still riding along in a horse and buggy.
Ouch, God. That hurt. But God got my attention. Over the next few days, I did a lot of soul searching. I realized, as ridiculous as it sounds, I had a lot of my identity tied up in Apple. I love Macs, and I am an “Apple person;” but somewhere along the way, my admiration for this product line became a way in which I defined myself and that wasn’t good.
Wrestling with my phone dilemma brought me face-to-face with the core of my problem; in many respects, I have been trying to hold on to the lifestyle I had in the States—and that’s impossible. South Africa is not the USA, and I make a fraction of what I earned at my old job in the States. And even if I could create a mini-USA lifestyle bubble for myself, it wouldn’t be the right thing to do, especially as a missionary.
But it’s hard. I feel the tension of going from a first-world country to a developing one. At times the tension is in the background; other times, it is at the forefront–but the tension is always there. I guess it is a part of living cross-culturally. It’s a challenge to know what to hold on to and what to let go. I’m embarrassed that it was so difficult for me to let go of something so trivial as a phone, but it was hard. On the flipside, some things are worth holding on to. Recently, I have come to terms that I need to join a gym, as it isn’t safe for me to go on walks by myself and as public tennis courts are non-existence. Physical health is vital to my emotional, mental, and spiritual health; and I am feeling the lack of exercise from which my body is suffering. This is the most unfit I have been in my adult life. Being fit is something worth holding on to; but the phone, I had to let go—and that’s OK. Steve Jobs would understand.
This past Friday, 9 August, was Women’s Day in South Africa; and I had a fabulous weekend celebrating the joys of sisterhood with my girlfriends. On Friday, I went to breakfast with some girlfriends and in the evening went to the gym with one of them to work off the breakfast. On Saturday, I had my first “girls-night-out” with some new friends, and it was great to hang out in Cape Town, eating Thai food and enjoying good conversation. On Sunday, I met a new friend, Betsy, a fellow Nashvillian who recently moved to Cape Town with her family. It was great to finally meet Betsy, and I’m grateful for our mutual friend who put us in contact with each other.
The past few weeks at work have been very hectic, and I was thankful to have a little girlfriend time over the long weekend. I keep saying that I want the next six months of life in Cape Town to be about making friends and embracing life here. I’m so grateful for the five new girlfriends I have met in the past two weeks. At all times God is simply amazing, but sometimes he just outdoes himself.
Nearly two weeks ago, my parents touched down in Cape Town, and we have been having the best time together. It’s a delight to show them my city and to give them a taste of my new home. They have seen things ranging from the iconic and historic sites of Table Mountain and Robben Island to the local Pick n’ Pay and Food Lovers Market, two grocery stores where I shop. I treated them to fish and chips at Kalky’s, a colourful eatery in Kalk Bay; and Mom has fallen in love with our local South African “regular” tea, Five Roses.
Yet what is most special about my parents’ visit, besides our just being together, is that they are meeting and spending time with my South African family. It has been a blessing and a joy to introduce them to my new friends and to introduce my friends to my parents. My friends have rolled out the red carpet for my parents, and I am truly grateful.
The Parents with my “Strand Family”
Mom and Dad are amazed at the South African hospitality, and it makes them feel so much better knowing the lovely people with whom I work and hang out. I am amazed at the wonderful community in which God has placed me, all within less than six months.
Mom and Dad Relaxing at Estelle’s and my Birthday Party
It is truly special for me to see family from both of my homes come together.
A few days ago, I returned from a three-week trip Tanzania. I wasn’t able to blog about my experiences while I was on the road. Many places we stayed didn’t have indoor plumbing or running water, let alone Internet access. But I had an amazing time, and I would like to share some of my experiences in a short series of blog posts. This is the first installment.
It will take me days, if not weeks, to process all of my experiences in Tanzania. I had a great time, and I am so grateful that God gave me the opportunity to travel to that country. I was a part of a Rooted in Jesus Junior training team. (Rooted in Jesus Junior is a discipleship program for children, aged 8-14.) Four of the team members were from the UK. One was from Kenya, and two were from Tanzania. I represented South Africa and the US.
We did two four-day trainings, and they went extremely well. The first training was in a rural area; the second training was in a city. Each training had its own unique flavor.
One thing that was consistent about both trainings was the passion and dedication of the participants. In the first training, most of the trainees were Sunday school teachers from rural areas, most of whom only had a primary education. In the second training, we were training people who played a leadership role in their parish or diocese; these people were to go back and train others in their parishes or dioceses in Rooted in Jesus Junior. Many of the participants in both trainings traveled for hours (some for an entire day) to get to the training site. At the first training, many mothers brought their children; many moms had infants on their backs. The participants were completely dedicated in their call to ministry to children.
Over our three weeks of travel, I got to know several clergy—priests, archdeacons, bishops—in various dioceses. Their passion for God and their people was evident at every turn. Many of the priests spend an entire Sunday cycling to their various parishes to preach and to offer pastoral care. The roads they travel on are often so rough that I wonder how they make it without traveling on a 4×4. Many of the priests are on call 24/7, just a mobile phone call away from the needs of their people. One retired bishop reflected on his years as bishop, talking about how people would line up at his house, asking for advice, help, food, and spiritual counsel. This was a daily affair. When I asked what he would do when people asked for food, he replied, “feed them.” He was bishop for more than 18 years.
Training Team with Bishop of Musoma (Canon Jacob, far right)
One of the Tanzanian members on our team was a clergyman named Jacob. Father Jacob is a canon and was just elected the diocesan secretary of his Diocese of Musoma. Canon Jacob is the type of person you are blessed to meet in a lifetime. You can see God’s fingerprint on his life, and he is so full of joy. Canon Jacob works hard, probably too hard; but he is so passionate about the Lord and about the flock under his care. Canon Jacob’s diocese is a model of the church being the hands and feet of Christ. The diocese has a healing center that is opened 24/7. People travel near and far to come to this center where they can be prayed for. The diocese also has a secretarial school where young women can come and stay and get secretarial skills so that they can get jobs. The diocese also has a center for people who have disabilities. The diocese is not rich or well-off, but its lack of financial resources doesn’t hinder it for being the hands and feet of Christ.
I often hear that Africa is going to be the center of Christianity for the next millennium, and I believe it. I used to believe it because the faith is exploding on the continent, and the African church is full of young people. But I now believe that Africa is going to be the center of Christianity because of people’s passion and dedication for God. We in our first-world, post-modern culture have lots to learn from our African brothers and sisters.
In preparation for my upcoming trip to Tanzania, I had to prepare a sermon. I’ll be preaching at a parish church while I’m there. Preaching is definitely not my gifting; and I’m slightly nervous about the whole thing, but I know with God’s help it will be fine.
My sermon centers around the New Testament reading for that Sunday, which is 1 John 4:7-21 (the famous passage about how loving God and our neighbour goes hand-in-hand), and the issue of children’s spiritual formation. I’ll be traveling to Tanzania to be trained in Rooted in Jesus Junior, and thinking about children’s faith formation made me reflect deeply on my own spiritual formation as a child. I was reminded of the Sunday school teacher I had as a child, and I talk about him in my sermon. Below is the clip, and it is dedicated to my Sunday school teacher, Mr. Sam Hannah, and to all Sunday school teachers for children. I hope you’ll enjoy it.
8-or-9-year old me. Age I would have been in Mr. Hannah’s Sunday school class.
“I want to tell you a story about myself. When I was a child, my Sunday School teacher was a man named Sam Hannah. Mr. Hannah was an elder in the church and community. He was kind-hearted and was like a grandfather to me and the other children. He prayed with us and listened to us. He would laugh with us, and I remember his lovely laugh. He was such a joyful man. Many times after church, he would buy cool drinks and candy for us kids. Mr. Hannah died several years ago, but I still remember him. I don’t remember a single Sunday school lesson he taught us, but I remember that he loved us, that he loved me. Through Mr. Hannah’s words and deeds, I knew that I was special to God and that God loved me. Through Mr. Hannah’s love, I experienced the love of God; and I have never forgotten that.
When your children grow up, they may not remember a single lesson you taught them about the faith, but they will always remember the way you loved them. Your love for them will be etched on their hearts and minds as a manifestation of God’s love for them. God is love; and if we love God, we love others, says the writer of 1 John. If we love God, we love our friends, enemies, people in our community, strangers, elders, children. 1 John 4:12 says, “No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.” If we love one another, God’s love is manifested among us.
In closing, I want to challenge you and me to love God more by loving our neighbour more. I especially want to challenge us to be more intentional about loving our children, teaching and equipping them to have a personal relationship with Christ now. Our children are not just our future; they are our present. As we love and welcome children in the name of Jesus, we welcome our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.”
Before I became an adult or a teenager, before I knew where my life was going or what God was calling me to do or whom he was calling me to be, Mr. Sam Hannah was playing a role of ubuntu in my life. I am who am partly because of this wonderful man.
Wow—a year has passed and how much has happened in that year! This time last year, I was kind of living in a fog. I didn’t know what to expect; I had a ton of feelings swirling inside of me. Returning to Cape Town, I feel as though I am home, surrounded by my loving community and by so many familiar things—from certain decorations in my flat that make me smile to the beautiful mountains that I see every day.
Adventures in Living 