Life in transition

"What's it like being back? How's your transition going?"

These questions are hard to answer, because most of the time I don't know how to respond. Sure, I've been back in the U.S. for over a month now, but I'm still very much in the midst of transition in every way. I'm still thinking through and processing what I experienced in Ivory Coast, and what my life looks like now in light of that. I'm loving spending time catching up with my family, and especially can't get enough time with my 2-year-old niece. And I'm also having to put energy into the logistical details of this next stage of life--finding a job, securing housing, paying bills... It's a lot. And most of the time it's good, but it's not always easy.

I thought I was prepared for re-entry, thought that I knew what to expect. But this is one of those situations I don't think anyone can be fully prepared for. It's different for each person, and I've found that my thoughts and feelings about it can change drastically from day-to-day, moment-to-moment. For me, this season has looked like:

• Feeling deep joy at spending Father's Day with my whole immediate family for the first time in years.
• Going to the grocery store for the first time and being amazed at the sheer quantity and variety of foods (and also shocked by the high prices of fresh produce, especially the "large" avocados).
• Wanting to stop by a coffee shop every time I'm out, just because I can.
• Struggling to reach my order in the drive-thru because I've trained myself to use my right hand to give and receive food and money (then reminding myself that it's okay to use my left hand in America).
• Seeing a small shadow on the bathroom wall and immediately thinking it's a gecko.
• Having a meltdown because I can't find my external hard drive in any of my suitcases, but also knowing that the hard drive isn't really the problem--it's just the general stress of transition.
• Paying for groceries in the self-checkout line and asking my mom, "Are these quarters?"
• Getting excited whenever I see or hear anything in French.
• Staring at a photo taken of me in Ivory Coast and feeling like it was already a lifetime ago.

I miss Ivory Coast deeply, but at the same time I am so happy to be here. That's the difficulty of life in transition.

Dear Sponsor

Last Friday afternoon I sat on the breezy porch of the Training Center, at a table with our social workers and several children who had come to write letters to their sponsors. One little boy was sitting next to me, thinking hard about each phrase he wanted to say, then quickly writing it down. After several minutes he proudly handed his finished letter and drawing over to us to review.

Words were misspelled, punctuation was lacking, and the grammar wasn’t all there, but the letter was beautiful anyway. I couldn’t help thinking about how excited all the sponsors will be when these letters show up in their mailboxes.

During the past few weeks, staff members have been handing out stationery during regular home visits, giving a few suggestions on what the kids might write to their sponsors, but largely leaving it up to them. The completed letters are brought to me for translation, which means I get to read them all.

To be sure, many of these kids don’t understand the full scope of what sponsorship means. They especially don’t realize what a blessing their letters are for those on the receiving end. But the truth is there no matter what—because of sponsorship, these children are able to go to school, get quality healthcare, and hear about Jesus.

It’s so easy for me to forget. I see the success stories, and I forget. I forget that many of those who are now healthy and happy, have come from dark places, and have experienced deep pain that I can’t even imagine.

In letter after letter, I read expressions of sincere thanks and am reminded that this ministry really does change lives.

All the feels

It’s really been starting to hit me lately that my time here in Ivory Coast is almost over.

In two months, I’ll be boarding a plane to go back home, and that’s giving me all the feels.

For one thing, I’m excited. I miss my family and friends. I miss living in a place where the language and culture are familiar and a basic conversation doesn’t require much brain power. I miss wearing sweaters and wrapping up in a fuzzy blanket when it’s chilly. And it’s exciting to think about getting all of these things back.

I’m also nervous. This upcoming move is a major transition and I don’t know exactly what it’s going to look like yet. Where am I going to live? What am I going to do? I don’t know. And the not-knowing makes me uncomfortable. I could end up somewhere amazing doing something I love. Or I could not. Plus there’s the very real possibility of reverse culture shock. This is the longest I’ve been in a foreign country, and I’m anticipating that “home” might not feel quite like I expect it to.

And of course, there’s a part of me that’s feeling a little sad. Despite the challenges of living and working here, I really enjoy it most of the time. I have my friends, co-workers, and routines that feel familiar and comfortable now. Over the last couple of months I’ve started to really feel that my work is useful and making an actual difference in the ministry. But I’m about to have to say goodbye to all of that, at least for a while.

As I’m sitting here thinking about this cocktail of emotions—excitement, nervousness, and sadness—I realize that this is exactly the combination of things I was feeling seven months ago, as I was preparing to come here. And yet, everything worked out. It hasn’t been easy every second of every day, but it has been really, really good and I’m so thankful. I guess the best thing I can do now is to trust that the same God who carried me through that transition, is right beside me during this one, too.

Open Heart

A fairly recently developing excitement/passion of mine has been child sponsorship ministries in developing countries. This started with my trips to Malawi with Children of the Nations, where I was able to see firsthand lives that had been drastically changed for the better, because of sponsorship. I then wrote my senior capstone paper on the topic, because I found it so interesting. So I've loved spending most of my days here working with CMF's Ivory Coast child sponsorship program/ministry, Coeur Ouvert (which means "Open Heart" in French).

Much of my work with Coeur Ouvert so far has been in the office, gathering and organizing up-to-date data on all the children, and sharing pictures and stories through our online blog and facebook page. Recently, as my language skills are improving, I've been able to get more face-to-face interaction with the children and their families.

Home visits
A few times a week I get to travel around town with our social workers, Marc and Francois, visiting children in their homes, checking in on their health, studies, and general well-being. I've loved building relationships with the families that Coeur Ouvert serves, and gaining a better cultural understanding of what life generally looks like here.

CHE
One of CMF's major focuses is CHE (Community Health Evangelism). CHE lessons are on a variety of topics relating to health, community development, and Christianity, and are taught during home visits or other specified meeting times. At the beginning of February I was asked to teach a CHE lesson on hygiene during a meeting with the high school aged students. We talked about the importance of hand-washing to prevent sickness, and each student practiced washing their hands correctly. The lesson went well, and I was especially thankful to Pastor Wisdom who helped explain things when I struggled to come up with the right words in French. This coming Saturday (March 4) I will be teaching two more CHE lessons at a field trip with all of the children in the program.

English Club
We've also started a weekly English Club. Starting in about 6th grade, all students study English, so the club is here as a supplement to aid what they're already learning at school. We've had four meetings so far and I think we are getting into a rhythm that works pretty well. I'm starting to understand what levels they are at and how to get them speaking and interacting, and they are getting used to my teaching style and understanding what they're expected to do. As the weeks go on, I am hoping for consistent attendance and excitement.

Staff Meeting
We recently had an all-day staff meeting/training on HIV, which is, unfortunately, an extremely relevant topic here. It's important for us to have a solid understanding of HIV, what it looks like, how it is prevented, and, really, how Coeur Ouvert can best reach those in our community--whether they themselves are infected by HIV, or have a family member who is, or just want to ensure they prevent either of those things happening.

There's a lot of good stuff happening here, and tons of potential as the program keeps growing. I'm so thankful to be here, learning how to serve with an open heart.

Dust, Sweat, and Tears

While most people reading this blog are currently in the midst of a very cold and particularly snowy Winter, I'm experiencing a season that is new to me, but is a regular part of this time of year for West Africans: it's called Harmattan (pronounced HAR-muh-tawn), and it is caused by a dry, dusty wind that blows in from the Sahara Desert.

source: http://updatesfromfreetown.blogspot.com/2015/12/harmattan-everybody-this-is-sahara.html

The best thing about Harmattan (and possibly the only good thing) is that it brings with it refreshingly cool nights. In fact, there was a period of about a week and a half recently that I actually slept under a quilt. (My fan was usually on too, but still, the need for a blanket is a big deal!)

Unfortunately, while the nights are cool, the days are continuing to get hotter and hotter. I have never sweat so much in my life.

The biggest downside of Harmattan is the dust. The bottoms of my feet are dark brown by the end of the day and the surfaces in my house are coated with a fine layer of dirt. The dust also causes sinus irritation, watery eyes, and other sicknesses, plus the risk of wildfires goes up.

source: http://www.fao.org/docrep/008/y5749e/y5749e09.htm

And over here in Ivory Coast, we are much less affected than other countries, like Nigeria. When it's really bad, Harmattan can cause a thick haze in the air, severely limiting visibility and, apparently, even sometimes causing flights to be cancelled or re-routed. (read more here)

Here's a picture of Abidjan (the biggest city in Ivory Coast) during Harmattan a few years ago. 

source: http://koaci.com/cote-divoire-pluie-remplace-lharmattan-lorage-coupe-courant-87946.html

Feeling like a toddler again

If you have talked to me for any amount of time in the last couple of years, you probably know that I have a niece. Her name is Lydia, she is one and a half years old (20 months if you want to get technical), and I think she is the best, cutest, smartest little person who has ever lived.

I mean, seriously. The cuteness is real.

She's at a really fun stage where she's growing and learning so much. Whenever I get to Skype with her and her parents, I love hearing the new words and phrases that she has picked up since the last time we talked. During our call on Christmas Eve, my sister told Lydia, "Say Santa," and she confidently replied, "Hee-ha." Even though that's obviously not quite right, it's funny, and still a step in the right direction. There's very little pressure on her to speak well. No one expects her to be a master of the English language right now, so every new word or phrase is celebrated as a huge victory, and mistakes are brushed over, or seen as an opportunity for growth.

Learning a new language sometimes makes me feel like a toddler.

Today I came across a recent post by Jerry Jones at the Culture Blend in which he speaks of this very thing:

"It was one of those powerless foreigner moments that expats get used to.  The chasm between my irritated desire to express my true feelings and my pathetically lacking vocabulary was monstrous.  I’m basically a two year old in situations like this."

Amen. I don't always know the right thing to say. Pronunciation can be hard. Understanding people can be extremely hard, especially if I am tired. I rely on the few words that I know really well to get through unexpected conversations. Sometimes I think I do know the right word to use, but when I say it in conversation, I'm met with confused stares, or my favorite question, "Is that English?" to which I sheepishly reply, "No... I think it's French... but maybe that's not right."

The thing is, I'm not a toddler, and I'm just not cute enough to totally butcher new words and have people applaud anyway (except maybe my parents--thanks, Mom and Dad). And I don't want to be seen as a toddler. I am an adult, fully capable of expressing deep and complicated things when necessary, but so many people that I interact with don't see that side of me, because of this pesky language barrier.

The good thing about these moments of frustration is that they motivate me to keep learning, and they make the good moments even more rewarding. When I use a new expression correctly, or when someone asks me a question and I am able to respond without asking them to repeat, or when I'm able to follow most of the sermon at church--these highs are worth all the lows. 

Joyeux Noel! 🎄

It's Sunday evening and my first African Christmas is winding down. Experiencing Christmas away from my family, in foreign culture, has been interesting as I've had to set aside some of the traditions that often define Christmas for me, and simply enjoy the holiday for what it is.

One tradition that I do think is worth keeping no matter the circumstances is holiday baking! I love any excuse to eat cookies, so on Thursday I made some chocolate peanut butter no-bake cookies (one of my favorites, and so so easy), and then on Friday, the Gable girls helped me make some brown sugar/cinnamon cookies (that ended up tasting just like snicker doodles--yum!). Between those cookies and the other sweets I have been given, I'm pretty sure my diet has consisted mostly of sugar and butter over the last 3 days. No complaints here, though!

Last night we went to church, and it was not like any Christmas Eve service I have ever been to before. There were no candles, no silent night, and no familiar Christmas carols. The service began at 9:00 pm, and it was loud and energetic, definitely a celebration. While there were Christmas themes presented throughout the service, the songs were the same songs we usually sing on Sunday mornings all year long, and the kids performed a skit of the story of Esther. Our crew ended up leaving early, around 11:00, which was only about halfway through the whole service. As a culture, Ivorians generally love these long, late-night celebrations for Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve. It's an interesting contrast to the short, calm services that I am used to, but just as special and powerful in its own way.

All decked out with lights and tinsel

Christmas Day itself has been nice and relaxing. I checked my stocking this morning because I was told that some of Santa's elves had filled it up yesterday, and I found a bottle of Coke and some chocolate. Our church did cancel their service today (I know, I know--but may I remind you that they were celebrating and worshiping into the wee hours of the morning? :) ), so we had a little team home-church experience at the Gables' house next door instead.

While I've been celebrating my non-traditional Christmas over here, I've loved seeing glimpses of so many celebrations all over the world, thanks to social media. I was able to call some of my family members (both in Cambodia and Oregon) and share part of the holiday with them, too. This year is really reminding me that there are so many different ways to celebrate Christmas, but what unites us today (and everyday) is the miracle of Jesus, Emmanuel--God with us.

So wherever you are--Merry Christmas from Ivory Coast!

A weekend to remember

Saturday morning, all the sponsored kids came to the clinic for Bible teaching, games, and snacks. First, Marc, one of the social workers, taught the parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32). They asked the kids questions to get them discussing the story, and each kid who spoke up got a piece of candy (sugar is a good motivator all over the world). The kids then played a boys vs girls trivia game on all sorts of different topics. One boy was asked to name two cities in America--all he came up with was Belgium. Nice try, kid. (Probably about how most American children/maybe even adults would do if asked to name two African cities, honestly). But my favorite thing was to just see how much FUN everyone was having. Life here (just like everywhere) can be challenging. I believe that giving people a safe space to relax and laugh is an essential part of ministry.

On Sunday, I was invited to visit a church in a nearby village with Andy, and two other men who work with the mission, Noel and Pastor Douti. This particular church is pretty small--there were probably only 15-20 people in attendance, including us. They currently meet in the courtyard of someone's home, but they have started building a permanent church building on some land. As we all sat in a circle, singing, praying, and worshiping together, it felt like a family. Their joyfulness and faithfulness was beautiful and inspiring and I'm honored to have experienced it (and hope it will happen again!).

We were also blessed with some glorious weather. Having grown up on the Oregon Coast, I've experienced my fair share of rain and wind and generally don't like it at all. But when the storm came that afternoon, I felt like a kid, sitting on my couch on my screened-in porch, just watching the rain pour down, hearing it pound against the metal roof, and feeling the gusts of cool wind blow against me. I put on a cardigan and made some hot tea and felt like maybe it actually is December after all. It was a very welcome respite from the increasingly hot weather we have been experiencing.

Changes!

"Change is the only constant in life." -Heraclitus

It's been a busy couple of weeks with some significant changes.

First of all: the weekend after Thanksgiving, I moved! Not far... not even off the property actually, but I moved from the house where I had been staying for my first 2 months here, into the smaller house/apartment about 20 feet behind it. This is where I'll be living until I leave Cote d'Ivoire in June, and it's nice to be able to really get comfortable and make it my own.

Chez Moi (see pictures of the inside of the house on my Facebook)

We have a new teammate! Jordan Woodard arrived in country last Tuesday, December 6th. While he's in country, Jordan's main task is to create a comprehensive database for the clinic to keep track of all the patients. This will be a HUGE blessing. Hopefully the data collected will help the clinic staff to continually be improving the (already very high quality) care that they're providing for this community.

My schedule has also changed, as my main focus is shifting from primarily learning French, to devoting more time and energy into the ministry. The details of my new schedule are still being worked out, but basically, while I will continue having some times that are dedicated to practicing the language, mostly I will be working with the mission in hands-on, tangible ways. Most of my time will be spent working with the staff of Coeur Ouvert, the child sponsorship program that provides for over 100 local kids. I'll be doing some administrative tasks in the office (keeping updated information of all the children, helping to plan/organize for special events, etc.), and I'll also be able to visit the children and their families in their homes, and do some teaching on various Community Health Evangelism (CHE) topics. I've also been able to join in on once-a-week meetings with some of the church leaders, talking about disciple-making movements (we're currently reading through and discussing The Master Plan of Evangelism by Robert E. Coleman).

Sometimes change is hard, but these changes are exciting, as they are proof that big things are happening!

Daily Commute

Sometimes the most interesting part of my day is the time I spend walking back and forth between my house and the clinic. During the 20ish minutes it takes to get from one place to another, I pass a number of people- security guards, policemen, construction workers, school children, people selling goods on the side of the road, and others who, like me, are on their daily commute. Many will greet me with a friendly "bonjour" as they pass by. Some see me and call out, "la blanche!" which means, "white girl!" (Even though it sometimes bothers me to be called out simply because I look different, I know that they mean well so I try not to be offended.) And then there are the rare times when people ask me for things- some spare change, my phone number, if I will teach them English... Yes, my daily walks are definitely one of the most unpredictable parts of my day, and also probably one of my biggest cultural experiences.

As people greet me, they sometimes start a conversation. If they ask me anything beyond the basics--what is my name, where do I work, where do I live, where I am going--the conversation often ends with me apologizing and explaining, "Je ne comprends pas" (I don't understand). To be honest, I don't always appreciate these moments, especially if it is the end of the day and I am tired and just want to get home and eat dinner and speak English (or not speak at all). But sometimes I do have a good conversation with someone, like with the two teenaged girls I met who live down the road and who simply wanted to get to know me and tell me about themselves, or the small child I sometimes pass in the morning who waves at me and chants excitedly when he sees me coming, or clinic staff members who are also walking home at the end of the workday. These conversations help me to feel a little more connected to this place that still feels very foreign in many ways.

My daily commute can be tiring, unpredictable, and even confusing, but it can also be a much-needed reminder to stop, take a look around, and appreciate the sights and the people that I might otherwise miss.

Two months down

It's been almost two months since my arrival! I'm still feeling so so grateful for this opportunity. Here's a quick update about what I've been doing, and some important prayer requests for the mission (if you read nothing else in this blog, please scroll down to the bottom and pray).

Language learning/general adjustment:
I'm continuing to attend French lessons for two hours every morning, Monday through Friday, and definitely feeling more confident communicating with people. There's a long way to go for sure, but I'm seeing definite progress. I'm also feeling much more comfortable getting around town for whatever I need. I often walk, but taxis are very cheap (less than 50 cents per person to get anywhere in town). One time my taxi driver did get in a fist fight with another driver over who had the right-of-way in the roundabout, but I think that's pretty rare (and now I have a good story to tell).

Child sponsorship:
In addition to learning French, I'm starting to get more involved in the child sponsorship program as well. I work in the child sponsorship office usually one afternoon a week. During this time, I typically do administrative tasks, like entering the date of the children into a spreadsheet, uploading and organizing photos of some of the various activities, and so on. My past two weekends have also involved these kids. Yesterday (Saturday), I went with the kids to the local library, where they were able to learn about the library and how the books are organized, browse the different kinds of books, and each choose one book to borrow and take home. The week before, I went to the clinic and got to sit and listen as some staff members led the high school-aged girls in a discussion about how poverty can affect a person's life, and what we can all do to prevent that for ourselves and our families. These kids have so much potential, and I'm really grateful for the mission staff who show them how much they are loved, not only with kind and encouraging words, but also with tangible actions. As my French skills improve, I'll be doing a lot more home visits and teaching with the kids in the program, which is right up my alley. I'm excited to be part of this life-changing ministry, even if only for a few months.

Prayer requests:
Thank you for your prayers and your encouragement--it really does matter and make a difference. Here are some things you can specifically keep in mind as you pray:
1) Pray for the leaders of Coeur Ouvert (the child sponsorship program), as they seek to make a powerful, long-term impact on the lives of vulnerable children in the community.
2) Pray for wisdom, guidance, and initiative among those in the leadership of our churches, especially in light of some major changes and conflicts which have taken place over the last couple of years.
3) Pray for the clinic, which will soon be holding a grand opening for its new maternity wing.
4) Pray for my teammates--the Gable family, who has been faithfully serving here for 12 years, and several new teammates who will be arriving within the next several months or so (Jordan Woodard, Ian and Kristin Isely, and Courtney Pierce).
5) Pray for me, for continued strength and endurance, for my language learning, for my cultural adjustment, for wisdom about the future, for the boldness to step out and speak up when necessary, and that my gifts will be used to share God's love with everyone I encounter.

Little by little

I arrived in Abengourou on September 23, and today is October 23, which means I've been here for one month! And I can honestly say that Ivory Coast is beginning to feel like home--for now.

Between moving on campus, my parents' move to Cambodia, and now my temporary move here, the concept of "home" has been a bit confusing over the past few years, so I use the term fairly loosely. But as I spend more time here, I find many of my surroundings becoming familiar and comfortable, rather than confusing and foreign, like they were at first.

For me, building relationships is a key to feeling "at home" in a new place. It's nice to know people and, in turn, to be known and recognized, isn't it? To walk into a place and have someone familiar come up and greet you and ask how you have been? As I get into my regular routine, there are a few key people who I am fortunate to spend time with each week and experience such familiarity with--like my French tutors, my language partners, and many of the clinic staff members.

The women in the social services office are some of my favorites. On Monday afternoons, I usually go to their office for a couple of hours, help with small tasks like filing, and practice my French. This past Monday, it was a pretty slow afternoon, so I got some time to talk to Fatou. She asked me if, after my nine months are up and I leave, I am going to come back here to Ivory Coast. I told her I don't know, and that it is sad [to think about not knowing whether I will return here again]. And I really meant it. Ivory Coast is becoming so special to me, and I know that it will be sad to leave in June. Fatou agreed, and simply reminded me, "Dieu est grand" (God is great). And that simple, yet faithful statement stuck in my head as I walked home.

Later that evening I wrote in my journal, "I can feel this place slowly starting to creep into my heart, little by little." Every little moment like the one I had with Fatou, I feel just a little bit more connected and a little bit more at home.

Small Victories at the Bread Store

I stopped at the bread store on the way home from my French lesson yesterday. My request for one baguette was met with a shake of the head from the man behind the counter, and a string of French that I could not understand. I think he was saying they were out of baguettes, and was pointing out my other options—but I’m not positive. Feeling a little helpless, I used my broken French to say, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” He asked (in French) if I speak English (yes), and then asked his co-workers if they speak English (nope). I still really wanted to buy some bread, so I pointed to something that looked fairly basic, called “Saint Thomas,” and was asked “un ou deux?” (“One or two?”) Despite all the confusion, I came away with these two delicious loaves for less than a dollar, and was even complimented on my French (LOL—thanks for being nice to the clueless American).

Even though my trip to the bread store didn’t go exactly as planned, I still see it as a success in some ways. It was a chance to practice my French, interact with the locals, and make a purchase, all on my own.

Living in a new culture (or in any big transition), I think it is so important to celebrate the small victories, because honestly, sometimes they are all you can really cling to.

Here are a couple other small victories I have experienced in the last week:

Walking from the house to the clinic (and back), without anyone telling me which way to go, and even without street signs (yes, I am now living “where the streets have no name”). It’s not a particularly far or difficult walk, but given my bad sense of direction, this is definitely an accomplishment.

The map that Stephanie drew me of the walk between the house and the clinic :)

Being able to greet people, and express basic information (my name, how I am doing, where I am going…) in French.

Sometimes I get frustrated by the little things that I am not able to do here. But I am also trying to thank God for everything that goes right, no matter how small.

Five days in: Getting settled

Five days ago I stepped out of the airport into the humid Abidjan air, and said hello to this country that will be my home for the next nine months. Since then, I’ve been working on getting adjusted and finding my new normal.

Meet the Gables: Andy, Stephanie, Clay, Ellie, Caeden, Sage, and Olivia. The Gable family has been living and serving here in Ivory Coast for about 12 years. Since my arrival, they have been incredibly helpful, answering my many questions (like, “What do I do with my trash?” and, “Where should I buy eggs?”), getting me settled into the house I’m staying in (right next door to theirs), inviting me over to eat with them while I figure out shopping and cooking, showing me around town, introducing me to different people and aspects of the ministry, discussing my role here, and so on. The kids often come over to my house ready to play a card game or just hang out. It’s nice to feel so welcomed, and I have no doubt that the transition would be much more difficult without the Gables’ hospitality.

The open-air restaurant where we ate lunch today. The meal (rice, peanut sauce, and beef) cost less than $2 per person!

Now that I am starting to feel settled, I’m looking forward to getting involved in the ministry. The first step of that will be language-learning. This will be my main focus for at least my first couple of months here. Tomorrow I will begin having French lessons five days a week. In my short time here in country, I’ve quickly realized how useful it will be to have a working knowledge of French and to be able to relate to Ivoirians in their own language.

Prayer requests:
-That I will be able to pick up the language quickly
-For daily courage to step out of my comfort zone
-For the Global Leadership Summit which will be held here in Abengourou for the first time in October

Great Expectations

I officially leave in 15 days. People have been asking me, "Are you excited?" And I can quickly and enthusiastically answer, "Yes!" But, for the sake of honesty, I often add, "...but I am also pretty nervous, and a little overwhelmed at all that needs to be done before leaving." People are pretty understanding of this, as I imagine anyone who has gone through a big life transition has probably experienced this same tension. I'm looking forward to this next step, but it brings with it many unknowns.

In my weakest moments, it is easy to let fears creep in. What if I'm not cut out for this type of ministry? What if I get sick? What if, what if, what if? Of course, I know that it does no good to spend time thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. During one conversation with a friend about my nervousness, she reminded me that this is something I am feeling called to. My main purpose in going is to serve God and His people, and as long as I keep that as my goal first and foremost, nothing else matters.

So instead of dwelling on my fears, I am trying to examine my expectations. It's only natural to have some expectations, and I think a big challenge is to remain optimistic, but keep expectations as realistic as possible. While I wholeheartedly believe this is the right next step in my life, I also know it is not always going to be easy. I want to prepare myself for the inevitable imperfection in all areas of this next step, such as my living space, the people I will encounter, the new language, the food, the weather, the ministry, etc., but I want to do so in an optimistic way, trusting that God will use everything, good or bad, for his purposes.

During this time I've also decided to set myself a few goals for my time in Ivory Coast. Hopefully this will help to keep me on track when I am feeling overwhelmed.

1) Invest time and energy into learning and practicing the language and the culture

2) Gain a strong understanding of CMF's current ministry in Ivory Coast, and future dreams/plans

3) Get to know people--spend time with them, ask them questions, and really listen to their answers

4) Find my niche in the ministry
5) Grow in my love for God by spending time with Him and His people
6) Seek guidance and wisdom about the next step in my life, and how I can remain involved in God's mission in the world

Please pray with me as I finish up this preparation, physically, spiritually, and emotionally.

Is it safe?

Since announcing my move to Ivory Coast, family members and friends have been incredibly kind and supportive, but also understandably a bit concerned. One big question I have received is, "is it safe?"

This is a valid question. The world is kind of scary right now. West Africa is somewhat known for political conflicts, wars, and diseases. There was an attack at a beach resort in Ivory Coast in March, killing 16 innocent people. 

I don't want to take any of this lightly, but I can confidently reassure you that there is no inherent danger to me or the missionaries I will be working with. The kind of work we are doing, in the location we will be living and serving, does not place us as a target of any kind.

This question about safety was one of the first things my own family brought up when I mentioned the possibility of me serving in Ivory Coast. They had heard some things about that part of the world, and wanted to make sure that I was not going to be thrown into a dangerous situation.

Here are a couple of reasons that I am not worried about my personal safety:

• The last political unrest in Ivory Coast occurred five years ago, following an election. Since then, their economy has been growing very quickly, and Ivory Coast is now considered one of the more stable countries in Africa.
• The attacks this past March were in a location that is at least four hours away from CMF's ministry location. While the missionaries (and I) will be extra careful when traveling to major cities or areas where large groups of Westerners gather, they do not feel threatened by the situation in their current location. Since they are the experts on the field and they are not worried (and they have five children who they want to protect), I will trust their guidance in this situation.
• Ivory Coast has had no reported cases of ebola.
• The biggest danger I could reasonably face is malaria, but even this should not be a problem, since I will be taking prophylaxis medication to prevent malaria, and even if I were to contract the disease, it is very treatable in CMF's own clinic.

I so appreciate everyone who has taken the time to talk to me about Ivory Coast and my ministry there, and completely understand your concerns. The world is sometimes scary and dangerous, no matter where you are. I believe that Ivory Coast is actually a very safe place for me right now, and will be praying that it continues to be a stable location for not only me, but the millions of people who call the country home. Will you join me in praying?

Livin' on a Prayer

So it turns out, in order to become a missionary, even a short-term one, there's a lot of preparation that needs to be done first. :) Since graduating over a month ago, here are a few of the things I have been working on to get ready:

LANGUAGE
The main language spoken in Ivory Coast is French. The nice thing is that French is such a common language that there are quite a few resources available for free. I am trying to learn as much as I can before I go, mainly by using the app Duolingo. Once I arrive, I will have a language tutor to help me.

SPIRITUAL/CULTURAL PREP
CMF has assigned me three books to read during this time of preparation. I recently finished the first one, Overrated by Eugene Cho. The tagline/subheading of the book is, "Are we more in love with the idea of changing the world than actually changing the world?" This was definitely a challenging book, but an important one as I thought about why justice is important, and how to do it well. I would highly recommend it to anyone interested in pursuing biblical justice.

I just started the second book, called African Friends and Money Matters. This one is much more practical and focuses on African culture, especially compared with Western culture. I think this is so important, because I know that when I am traveling, I can tend to think that my culture does everything right and the "other" culture could stand to learn a lot from me. This book is helping me to understand a bit about why African cultures often function the way they do, and see what they are accomplishing.

The third book I will read is When Helping Hurts. I have read bits and pieces of this book before, and always been very impressed with the authors' deep knowledge of true poverty and true justice that makes a positive, long term impact on people.

SUPPORT RAISING
Over the past few months, I have been very blessed to have the support of so many friends, family members, and churches. Countless people have told me they are praying for me, which is the greatest encouragement I could receive during this time. Another aspect of support raising is fundraising, which is in general going well, but has slowed down a bit over the past few weeks, which has honestly been kind of discouraging. In total, I need to raise about $10,700, and I am currently at $5,300. That means I am essentially halfway! Thank you if you have supported me in any way, whether through encouragement, prayer, and/or financial gift--it means more to me than you may realize. Please keep the prayers coming! :)

If you would like to get involved financially, please click here to learn more. And if you know anyone else who might be interested in supporting, I would be honored if you chose to pass this along.

THANK YOU for joining me in this journey!

"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 1:27