In this longing, and in this pain, I hear a voice softly calling, a voice firmly speaking:

"...the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted [You want to do that, Lord?], to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to grant to those who mourn in Zion—to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD [I want that], that he may be glorified. They shall build up the ancient ruins; they shall raise up the former devastations; they will repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations."
Isaiah 61:1b-4

Switching gears here... the Hammonds, whose house we are staying in, left two bookshelves full of books, and they have a bunch of books I'd like to read. I've started two of them: The Sacred Romance: Drawing Closer to the Heart of God and Let Me Be a Woman. The latter is a book that Elisabeth Elliot wrote to and for her daughter Valerie while Valerie was preparing to get married.


Let Me Be a Woman—

p. viii - a prayer by Betty Scott Stam: "Lord, I give up all my own plans and purposes, and my own desires and hopes, and accept Thy will for my life. I give myself, my life, my all utterly to Thee to be Thine forever. Fill me and seal me with Thy Holy Spirit. Use me as Thou wilt, send me where Thou wilt, work out Thy whole will in my life at any cost, now and forever."

p. 4 - "The question is, 'Whose am I?' not 'Who am I?' But people think that enough opinions will produce a unified truth. As Carlyle observed--'Vulpine knowingness sits ever at its hopeless task--from a world of knaves to deduce an honesty from their combined action."

p. 13 - Made for a man. It's a very curious thing, to think about what that means for me now. What about in eternity?

p. 36 - "My job is now over. You are a woman, God's woman, autonomous before Him. But His disciplining of you is far from finished. If you love Him, you'll do what he says. And there can be no question as to whether He means it if only you will look at His face, be silent long enough to hear what He says. 'He calls his own sheep by name.' It was when Mary heard her name that she knew her Master in the Garden after His resurrection. 'Master!' she cried in recognition of His lordship over her."

p. 34 and 37 -

Drop Thy still dews of quietness
Till all our strivings cease.
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess
The beauty of Thy peace.

I have a hard time with those lines, because, while in a sense, yes, we have peace in Him and somewhat ordered lives, we are always straining, always striving, always dealing with things, always longing for something. "The way you keep your house, the way you organize your time, the care you take in your personal appearance, the things you spend your money on all speak loudly about what you believe. 'The beauty of Thy peace' shines forth in an ordered life. A disordered life speaks loudly of the order of disorder in the soul." How can she say that? People differ. Perhaps for certain personalities, yes, but all disorderly people have disorderly souls?? Speaks loudly??

What does a Doer look like?

An excerpt from my journal, a few weeks ago, which I think is acceptable to post and shares some of my thoughts. I hope any of you referenced in here don't mind me talking about you. :)

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Niamey
May 6, 2007 Sunday

My problem is that I'd rather read than write; I'd rather think than do. I'm a dreamer. In fact, I want to do, just I don't always. I was reading through the April 14 WORLD issue today, and was impressed with the article about "nekulturny"—not cultured activities for a leader. Marvin Olasky once told a student asking what he could do to combat the left, that he could tutor a child who had fallen behind in school.

The best way to drive out the culture of dependence and entitlement in America [could it be for Niger too?] is through the relentless love and compassion of caring neighbors. -Coburn

Where are the "small people" dealing with social needs?

I've graduated now [high school], and I can hardly believe it. Yesterday, May 5th, 7 p.m. ceremony. Dad said a few words, of thanks, some about my schooling, and a sort of charge to me, including Solomon's "Remember your maker in your youth." Then I went up and gave a short speech. Then diploma giving-receiving time and switching my tassel to the right side. Mom shared a bit, and then Aunt Mary Johnson and Miss Gabrielle. Gabby said I was mature in so many ways and encouraged me to spend that time with God every day, not that I wouldn't. But actually, I don't always. That was encouraging [as in, reminded me that this is what I want to be doing]. Then we had a prayer time, standing in the front with a group from the audience, whoever wanted to come up. It was very special, and I never want to forget the words spoken over me, prayer and a charge for this life. Then we went on to the reception part with food and punch and a picture slide show.

But let me back up. The ceremony was held in the SIL conference room. Dad got it all ready in the morning, with chairs arranged on one half and the other half set up for the ceremony with food table and lounge chairs and so on. Most of SIL came and some of the Sahel seniors and Gabby and Amber. I was rather stressed about all of this stuff before time, like two weeks before, or more, and was amazed standing there beforehand, knowing that it was done, whatever may be. I'm kind of glad I didn't write in here all the frustration and disappointment I felt with Dad and Mom about this whole thing, planning, because in the end it all worked out and was fine and the rest is already fading. They both worked hard the last day to make the day special and were supportive. Dad and I just don't see eye to eye about things like this and it's kind of hard to communicate sometimes. I can always reconsider my expectations too. My speech kind of came together the last day in the afternoon. I liked it very well, and just said something short from my heart. I'd never given a speech before, that I can think of, not including exclusively family ones. I was glad those who came could, and I really felt the family community support.

It's a really weird feeling, being graduated. I feel like I'm free to tackle the world now, kinda. I don't have to worry about school requirements or anything, but can learn, make use of opportunities...and do what I've always wanted to. Kind of...and whatever that is. I kind of wish I were off to spend the summer (or one month) with Tabi in Galmi this year, and get off on my own a bit just now, a marked change of pace. But actually, I wouldn't necessarily want it to be Galmi. For some reason I don't really want to re-live that time again. It's in the past.

For some reason I feel drawn to the USofA or some other place. I was frustrated the other day, reading Tabi's letter about how I should really be more involved with the African people here instead of being passive and staying comfortable and shallow at home (how I take what she said)—like her MK experience is legitimate and mine is not [sorry, if I misconstrued you, Tabi]. It’s stung. (On the side, Daniel came in while I was reading this letter and crying to ask me a question, and then he grinned a sweet, embarrassed smile and went back out. Mom had just gotten home, so he went and told her I was crying and crying over a letter, and wasn’t that what happens in movies when a girl likes a guy? Maybe she loves someone? (!!) It was very funny when mom came asking if I was okay and told me what Daniel had said. Anyhow...long parentheses.) I talked to Dad and Mom about the frustration I feel about this and the confusion and guilt that comes when people try to convince me to be out doing things more with the locals. Dad thought it was nonsense, and that I don't need to feel any obligation to spend time with the Africans. That people aren't all the same nor have the same callings or enjoyment or desires. That I'm (just) growing up here. I thought it was interesting that he should say that. I never realized he looks at it from that point of view [Dad, I hope I'm not misconstruing you either]. I was pleased (but not wholly at rest) cause I too think Tabi is being rather unreasonable. Unfortunately, I expect Bethany would agree with Tab, but first she would say "do what your dad or parents think." :)

But I'm not just growing up here. I've got things to do. So far my ministry has been mostly just being a part of my family and living here in Niger and some help and community service. I think for the most part that's what it will continue to be this coming year. I feel very strongly about being a member in my family team, a contributing one to be sure, and helping make a home for my family and building up within my family (and working on some certain relationships too, my heart side). Sometimes though, I wonder about how we as a family could be seen more by Africans (that sounds funny) and be involved with them more and amongst them. We do tend to be rather seclusionist [is that a word?], don't we? But shall I not follow my father's leading in this? Can it really be helpful to talk with Dad about this as though I distrust his leadership and am not happy with his home? I already sense some of that from different things we've talked about where we just don't agree or can't understand each other. It's a confusing thing to me.

Anyhow, what am I doing this coming year? Yes, I feel drawn to the States sometimes and things that are western [sorry fellow MKs! I feel like I betray my own!]. I'd be interested in living in the States and from my family base help out with the little things that otherwise are killing society and community as cries for big government are being made. Tutor a kid who's falling behind or failing. This is something I could do. I've found I love to teach, as long as I feel like I have an adequate knowledge of the subject, that is. What else? I'm sure there are so many things. I really do feel a tug to be in a place where I can work and reach out and communicate in my mother tongue. Someday.... and yet even now I can be involved some in things like that. Teach the younger girls' Bible study. That is something I could do. I confess it terrifies me a bit, especially the weight of teaching God's Word. This isn't light stuff. But it is something I could do. I asked Tabitha not too long ago, “what can I do if I’m to follow what you say?” There never was any such thing as a choir or youth group in N'guigmi (and only sometimes a church). And I couldn't go out by myself. Here in Niamey the African church that we were involved in for a while was a political hot house really and something Dad decided to get out of. Yeah, well maybe we should have stayed and helped influence things for the better, but that's more Dad's decision than mine. And besides aren't these more than first generation Christians who should be able to keep a church standing without Westerners "babysitting"? Are they even trying? And then I always wonder what we could do anyway. Like our hard efforts would actually make a change especially if the people don't care? Yeah, I know...results aren't in our hands and we don't need to worry about that part, but still, it's discouraging to be involved in something you don't enjoy, a cause you don't feel like helping, and an effort you don't think matters or would do any good. I have little faith, though, in what I could do. Frankly, I don't see a difference I could make among the people, with my severe limits in communication, culture barriers, low status, lack of knowledge and experience and so on. And besides I don't even think God's asking me to focus on this. The only indication for that would be my frustration and somewhat guilty feelings about what Tab said, that her words can prick me. But do I not tend to be an emotional female [ugh, stereotypes :)], and Dad's guidance does not at all confirm that I should be getting out and doing more things with the Africans. Not that I dislike them, though I certainly dislike parts of their cultures. I love being at Bible study with Phiona (from Rwanda—where they wear "normal" clothes, unlike here, as she puts it :)) and Gabby H. (from Nigeria). But with these girls, see, I can communicate and there isn't so much culture clash either. But then of communications, is this a lazy excuse? Yeah, it might be. But I think not (at least not entirely). Gabby and Dad don't think so. Not all people are called [haha, Bethany!!] to learn a language not their own and struggle to reach out cross-culturally. What bout the people of my own language? What about helping Aunt Anora with house work while she's pregnant and packing? Those are the things I love to do. Yeah, that wasn't really outside of my comfort zone, but does that mean it's not legitimate service? What about other things that I love but fear too, that are outside of my comfort zone, at least at this point? Like, playing flute at church. I tend to figure that that's not very useful or serviceable because people can worship God without the noise of a flute, but then I tend to disregard the value of many things... but perhaps God does not. If I can teach Brendan flute, and more than that, impart a bit of joy in life; if I can help Aunt Anora in an indirect way helping her ministry here and encourage her in some way; if I can brighten up the lives of any Sahel kids and encourage and motivate them in a lasting way; if I can teach "my girls" the Truth from the Bible and love them and help point them in the good direction and be an example to them no matter how small and unequal I may feel to the task; if I could show my love in visible ways (which more often than not would involve English speakers rather than others I would expect); if I would rejoice always and have faith like a child that God so delights in; and what's more, overflow His love and be contagious... that's what I want, and that's what I feel called [that word again, Bethany!] to, in part at least.

I do question my heart and wonder whether it's actually a doing one... and it's good to question sometimes. But Lord, help me not to be discouraged or confused or question too much and worry but to learn from others' words and continue on my way, clinging fast to what you want for me, keeping me focused on the simple, deep Truth. On that straight and narrow. And Jesus, help me not deceive myself.

But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing. If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person's religion in worthless. Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world." -James 1.22-27