Life in Africa

stock-take

Once a month, South African stores close for an entire day for "stock-take". The obvious foolishness over the loss of business aside, it's an interesting concept. A day to take stock, see what's missing and what's left, shuffle things around, switch price tags.

We need to do that with our lives at times.

Shut the doors and take time to really look around. In all the dark, dingy corners that haven't been swept in a while. In the piles and messes left behind by others. In the cluttery chaos of thoughts and feelings left unattended.

What's missing? What's left?

Things need to be regularly cleaned out. And replaced. Reprioritized. Reorganized so that those of highest importance are moved to the most prominent places.

Things also need to be revalued. Price tags need to be switched around. Changed out. To again reflect that those things of highest priority are given the highest value.

It's stock-take time.

absence of rain

For months, Pastor Wayne and his church leadership team plan a huge outdoor church service for a weekend when their rented facility will be unavailable. With the forecast predicting rain, everyone prays fervently for good weather.

The three church services span two days -- Saturday night and Sunday morning. At Saturday night's service, the clouds roll in. A light drizzle falls from the sky. The prayers go up.

"Lord, stop the rain!"

It drizzles on.

By Sunday morning, the light rain turns into a downpour. Everything and everyone gets soaking wet. Many people don't even bother attending.

Pastor Wayne feels discouraged. Even a bit angry. During worship, he prays...

"Lord, how could you let it rain today? We've worked so long and hard on the plans for this whole weekend. And now, many people stayed home because of the weather..."

After droning on and on, reminding God of all he's done for His Kingdom and protesting God's lack of intervention, Pastor Wayne finally shuts his mouth. When he does, he hears the Holy Spirit speak to his heart very clearly:

"You are more concerned about the absence of rain than the presence of God."

When I'm facing challenges, my focus should not be on eradicating the problems as much as it is on experiencing the presence of God within the problems.

Too many of my prayers are focused on asking God to remove the rain from my life. (The rain of relational issues, financial strain, or overcrowded schedules.) I need to be more purposeful about praying for God's presence in the midst of the rain.

nagging question

We have a pretty casual office dress code; most days are spent in jeans and t-shirts. On Saturday, though, I had two occasions for which to dress up.

In the morning, we took the interns to Thandi's wedding. Thandi is one of our coaches who teaches our AIDS prevention program in the public schools. In Africa, weddings are day-long affairs; we could only attend for two hours. (Awww, shucks!) We got to see most of the ceremony (at least all the interesting parts), and it was a fun cultural experience for everybody.

That night was a birthday party for one of our interns. The party-planning team does a great job of coming up with something unique and creative for each intern's birthday. The one on Saturday was a "formal night". It was fun to have a reason to dress up (although twice in one day is maybe too much!); Dave even came in a tie. Everyone looked great and seemed to have fun.

I did have one recurring thought, though, at both the wedding and the party: What do I do with my hands?

I sure do miss pockets when I'm in a dress.

making a molehill out of a mountain

We have jumped from winter into summer (no sign of spring; we leapt right over that season). I went for a walk the other day just to soak in the sun and the scenery.

And I realized how much I look straight down when I walk. I pretty much stare at my feet and the ground immediately beneath me. Every now and then I lift my head, looking up. To double-check my direction, get a bigger picture idea of where I'm going, and see (ever so briefly) what's around me.

On one such head lifts, I was struck with the thought that I walk similarly through my life.

I so easily get stuck staring straight down. Seeing only what I'm dealing with right now. Focusing solely on that which I'm facing in this moment. Each rock incredibly big, each hole unbelievably deep, each incline practically impassable.

But when I take a deep breath, lift my eyes, and look around, things change. Well, actually, it's not the things that change, but my perspective. When I get a glimpse of the big picture of what's happening in me, around me, and through me, the rocky road underneath my feet somehow seems less rocky.

In the context of everything else, the rocks shrink. The holes fill. The inclines... what inclines?

It's kind of the opposite of the small print you read on your side view mirrors: "Objects in mirror are closer than they appear." My larger-than-life challenges are quickly put into perspective when I shift my gaze so that I'm not staring them in the face.

The fine print I need to remember is: "Things you're facing are smaller than they appear."