Life in Africa

with or without you

I love when my husband is away. Now before you start tsk-tsking, wagging your finger, or interceding for my marriage, let me explain.

I love the companionship of marriage. I love the security of knowing my husband is there for me, and that I always have someone to cuddle with on the couch. But I also love my alone time. To me, the thought of a week home alone is wonderful.

Of course I miss Niel while he's gone, but I don't fall to pieces without him. Over the years, Niel and I have "split up" a lot. He's gone to the States without me many times, and there's been a handful of occasions when I've done the same. When he's gone, often people ask me, "How are you coping without Niel?" or "You holding up ok?" And I never know how to answer. I don't want to come across like I just love it when he's gone, but I want them to know that I'm doing fine without him.

And by "doing fine", I don't mean I'm getting by. I don't just barely survive my weeks, sometimes months, without my husband. I enjoy it. I can do things I don't normally get to do. Like eat cereal for every meal. (I'm not kidding.) Like stay up really late to work and chat with friends. Like sleep in the middle of the bed in an attempt to flatten it. (Our mattress seems to have a hump right in the middle since it sinks in on the sides where we sleep. Awww. How sweet. We have matching indentations. Yeah, this week I'm sleeping on the hump. Let's see if it helps.) Like not shave my legs for weeks on end. (Never mind...I do that anyway.)

Yep, I enjoy my seasons of singleness.

I'll even venture out into some murky waters to say that I think it's healthy to have time apart every now and again. Niel and I don't have separate work situations where we spend time apart from each other on a daily basis. Even though we're not physically with each other all day every day, we work in the same ministry and are up-to-our-eyeballs in all the same stuff. Sometimes I wish I could come home from work and prattle on about my work friends and "Oh you should've seen what this lady did in the store today!" Anyway, back to my health issue. For us, we've found it to be very good for us to have times apart. It makes us more appreciative of each other and less critical of the annoyances we can get oh-so-focused on.

Yep, I think it's healthy to be husband-less every once in a while.

I've met women over the years who feel the complete opposite of me on all this. I've heard things like, "We've been married for 5 years and we've never spent a night apart from each other" and "I don't know what I'd do if my husband was away for a week!" And it always astounds me. Maybe God wired Niel and I to handle our separations gracefully since He knew we'd need to do it a lot.

Whatever the reason, and whether or not everyone thinks it's right or healthy, I'm enjoying myself this week!

How do you handle times away from your spouse? And if your single, how do you think you'll handle it down the road?

lessons (3 of 5)

Do it afraid. Fear paralyzes, but courage shrugs its shoulders and takes a step anyway. I'd say that most of the time, I don't feel strong/brave/prepared/qualified enough to do what I'm doing. In Angie's comment, she asked how many times I've been tempted to give up. A lot!

Lack of finances, skills, time, and faith have all made me think, at one point or another, that I just can't do this anymore. And then God, in His faithfulness, uses circumstances, people, His Word, or His peace to bring my heart back around again.

I wish my faith didn't waiver as much as it did. I wish I could say I am a courageous leader who is always sure of her steps and confident in what she's doing. I wish I was never tempted to give up. But if I'm honest, none of that is true.

And like a consumer I've been thinking If I could just get a bit more More than my fifteen minutes of faith Then I'd be secure My faith is like shifting sand Changed by every wave My faith is like shifting sand So I stand on grace

lessons (2 of 5)

Here are some more thoughts on lessons I've learned in the past ten years of ministry in Africa. Do what only you can do. Spend your time and energy on that which makes you the strongest asset to your team. Delegation has always been hard for me. I am a perfectionist, and very detail-oriented... so it's hard for me to pass things off to others. For a long time, we didn't have "others" to pass them off to, and I got very comfortable juggling so many things on my own. As our team grew, I learned (slowly) to equip my teammates to help carry the load.

I made a list of the things I want to spend my time doing, and the things that "only I can do" so that when we had the right people, I could start passing things off. Something "only I can do" is be the "face" of the ministry for our partners back in the States (with Niel, of course). Yes, I could have someone else write our newsletters or write email replies to our supporters. But I don't want to. I want to continue having personal contact with the people who make our ministry possible. So I still personally reply to every email we get from our supporters (not always very speedily, although I sure try!). And while I now have some assistance in this area, I still write the final copy for our newsletters, printed letters, brochures, website, etc. It represents us, so I am heavily involved in what the ministry puts out in writing.

We still don't have enough staff for me to only do what only I can do. But we're definitely miles ahead of where we were even just 18 months ago. I probably spend about 40-50% of my time doing what I love and feel specifically called to do. The rest of my time is still spent in other areas. Right now, the 80/20 principle seems impossible, but it is something I am working toward: Spending 80% of my time doing what makes me the strongest asset to our team and ministry, and spending the remaining 20% on the have-to's that I can't avoid being involved in.

Give authority with responsibility. Trust your team; they have strengths in areas you don’t. This is as hard for me as delegation is. I need to constantly remember that just because someone does something differently than I would, it doesn't make it wrong. I have to work hard at times to keep my attitude in check when I know a "better way". I need to get more big-picture oriented and get my brain out of the details sometimes. As long as the end result is right, the means of getting there shouldn't matter.

When it's painfully obvious that someone is better than me at something, it's easier to trust them to do the job. It's when I think I could do it better that I really need to work hard at fully letting go. Trust is something that is a challenge for me, both personally and with ministry responsibilities, but I've grown a lot in the area of trusting our team. We are blessed with some high-caliber staff members and interns who continue to blow me away with their giftedness. They've been a huge part of me learning to let go and trust others to get the job done.

How much of your time do you spend doing what you love/want? Is it hard to trust others with tasks you are good at?
Thoughts, Questions?

lessons (1 of 5)

Here are more personal thoughts about some of the lessons I've learned in the past ten years. Get clarity on your vision, and stick to it. Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. When we first started out, we began by meeting the needs we saw around us. Of course there were many, and we quickly found ourselves doing a whole lot. Actually, what we were doing was very little in a whole lot of areas. While this was borne out of compassion, we realized that by spreading ourselves to thinly, we were being neither strategic nor effective. Andy Stanley's book, Visioneering, helped us clearly define exactly what God was calling us to do as a ministry. That meant stopping programs we were running because they were not in line with that vision. It was a difficult but rewarding time of refinement in our ministry. At times, it's still not easy to say "no" to things that seem like they'd be great to be involved in. But knowing we are focusing our time, energy, and resources to accomplish what God's called us to certainly makes it easier.

Everyone should know the vision. Momentum in ministry only occurs when everyone’s clear where you’re headed. This is one we are still actively working on. We try to reinforce our vision and core values as often as we possibly can---as we lead staff meetings, as we talk strategy, as we bring correction. We share it with every team that comes through our ministry; we want them to see how their short-term trip ties in with the overarching vision to train Godly leaders. We also try to consistently convey the vision to our supporters and partners around the world. We've never wanted people to give to us because of an emotional pull; we want them to give because they know, believe in, and support the vision God's given us for reaching Southern Africa.

The right people make all the difference. A strong team multiplies ministry effectiveness. Like most of our lessons, we learned this one the hard way. On the mission field, and probably in any ministry, the needs are so great and there are never enough hands. That urgency and desperation led us to take on anybody and everybody who wanted to come and "do something" in Africa. We've gotten a lot more focused in our process of bringing on staff members; some people think we actually make it "too hard" for people to join our team. While our aim isn't to make it difficult, we want the process to be slow and thorough enough so both sides know clearly that it's truly a God-thing before someone makes a long-term move.

I'd love to hear your thoughts and input on all these. And if any questions pop into your mind, feel free to ask... Also---What lessons are you learning lately?

just to clarify

I recently blogged about some of the lessons I've learned in my first ten years of ministry. A friend asked me to share some of my personal history with those things, and I plan on writing a few posts in response to her comment. But I need to start off by clarifying that when I say "lessons learned" I certainly don't mean "lessons mastered". Every single thing I listed is something I still struggle with in some way or another. I'm often hesitant to share things I've learned because although my sharing always comes from a place of journeying, not of arriving, somehow there is the implication in those words that I've figured it out. Hear me: I haven't.

But the other side of that same coin is that I believe there is value in speaking from a point of brokenness. Being a missionary doesn't make my life unrelatable to yours. I face similar struggles and challenges, and I write from that place, not from the awkward, lofty pedestal people often put missionaries on.

I recently spoke with someone about helping her deal with some issues in her life. I told her, "You need to know that I don't have any training in counseling or any experience in dealing with things like this. But I'm willing to walk that road with you, to figure it out with God's help as we go along." Her response was wonderful. "I think that's actually what I need. I don't want someone just telling me how to fix my life; what I need is someone willing to walk alongside me in this. I think I will get more out of that kind of help than I would from some professional whom I write a check to at the end of our meeting."

Her words seemed to sum up my thoughts on the perspective I have when I write. I'm next to you on the road, not miles ahead simply because I'm a missionary.

I've discovered that the expectations I often feel from others are ones that many place on anyone in ministry. Yes, we are to "practice what we preach", "walk the talk", and not tell others to do what we ourselves aren't doing. But---and this is a big but---if we expect people to only share what they've mastered, there would be much silence in this world. We will never arrive. Never. Expecting that of anyone, especially those in ministry, only adds undue pressure and burden to their lives.

Remember the humanity of the missionaries, pastors, and leaders you know. Just like yours, our lives are filled with more grit than glory. And since I'm trying to develop more authenticity and transparency in my life, that means the more you get to know me, the more grit you'll see. While that thought makes me cringe, deep down I know it's a good thing.