Meanwhile, Back on the Ranch...

Since I've been in the U.S. the last few months, there's been some interesting things happening with my apartment back in Africa. Right before I left to come home for 6 months, I moved out of my apartment so other missionaries could move in. When I go back, I'll move into a new apartment, the one right next door, which is newly renovated. The fun of moving into a renovated apartment, especially if you know the people who are doing the renovating, is that you get to help choose what the finished product will look like (or at least in my case, I did).

The apartment was only four rooms, four small rooms, and so we all figured that it needed to be bigger, especially to accommodate an office and ministry materials that I use. Two rooms were added on the back, a bathroom and a kitchen. Masons and workmen spent long days building the addition.



As you can see, construction work in Africa is much more difficult and involves a lot more manual labor than it does in the U.S. The men carry concrete back and forth on their heads in pans.

















Finally finished.



Working with a carpenter, I helped design the kitchen cupboards, which is a big plus for me who spent the last two and a half years moping because my canning pot did not fit into any cupboard and thus had to live in a dusty and precarious position on a shelf. So of course, I designed one of the cupboard shelves with my canning pot in mind. Without a proper workshop, the carpenter constructed my lovely cabinets outside my house...







then after the house was painted, he installed them.



One of the most interesting rooms in the house is the dining room, which was once the teeny, tiny kitchen. Now it is a narrow and rather classy looking dining room with my newly purchased dining room set (I had to sell my old set and actually buy a smaller table to fit into the narrow room) and my buffet. On the wall is a cupboard that was built right into the wall. Before the house was repainted, the room was blue. Here is the before...



and the after.





During construction, the living room was a storage place for all the lumber.



It sure looks better after painted and with furniture in it.





Even the front of the apartment was changed. The covered porch was knocked down by hand...





and repainted.



It looks like I live in a prison cell with all those bars, but it's good protection.



Finally, just because it's a great picture, not because it has anything to do with my house, here is my plumber who stopped by the house and cleaned out my water tank for me because it was full of black slime. It involved climbing into it and scrubbing it out in the blazing hot sun. He has such a great attitude.



I am truly thankful for such great friends and all the people who put so much time into my new apartment.

What is a missionary term like?

My first term on the field as a career missionary was 2 ½ years long, and next January I will begin my second term of the same length. Before I went to Africa, I expected certain things of that first term. I expected I'd learn the language well, that I'd make great progress in the ministry I was in, that I'd learn the culture and learn to thrive, and that I'd come home for my first home assignment with flying colors. What I learned, however, was that I had to lose those expectations. I thought I'd dive right in and accomplish so much. I did accomplish much, but they weren't the things I expected. Here's some of my “accomplishments”:

I learned to never expect to get my “to-do” list done in one day. Things came up, visitors would pop by, the people I needed to help me were unavailable, and most always I would get only one or two things crossed off. That's discouraging for a person who's used to making lists and getting them done. I had to let go of that.

I learned that everything breaks. The quality of workmanship where I live is usually mediocre to poor, and things in your house will fall apart faster than in the U.S. At the beginning of a missionary term, waking up to a toilet that decided to fall apart and flood the bathroom invites panic; by the end of the term, it's just a normal day.

I learned a plethora of strange information that will only be useful in very specific situations. For instance, did you know that in order to keep your outside water storage tank from building up icky black mold inside, you should pour a bottle of bleach into it once every couple months? Or that putting a sachet filled with rosemary and a bay leaf into your flour bucket keeps the bugs from infesting it? Or if a rubber gasket wears out and causes your kitchen plumbing to spring a leak and you can't get a hold of the plumber, a lightweight plastic bag wrapped around the pipe where the gasket once was will suffice for quite a while? I learned a lot of mechanical things as well, information that I used on a daily basis in Africa. My whole first term was a constant learning curve, learning things I would have never even thought of learning before now.

I learned to think. Don't worry, I learned this skill long ago. I learned to think in a more detailed way because of my living situation. Here's an example of what I would think every morning when I woke up: “I need to go and check the water tank to see if I have enough water to take a shower. If there's enough water, maybe I should do my laundry today instead of waiting. And I should fill up my reserve water containers. The electricity is on, too. If I get ready fast enough, maybe it will stay on long enough for me to do the ironing. And I should charge my phone, computer, and extra batteries. I wanted to use my blender for that recipe tonight. Maybe I should use it now in case the electricity isn't on later.” And with that, my day would start with a race against the limited electricity. I learned to plan ahead when I had water and electricity, and always expect to not have them later.

I learned to hold to things loosely. I'm still learning this lesson and I'm sure I'll still be learning it when I retire! Everything on this earth is temporary: relationships, health, possessions, careers. I had to face this fact head-on when my grandma and uncle passed away, my once-healthy body kept getting sick, my house was robbed twice, and my ministry didn't go as planned, all in one term.

I learned that I cannot do everything like I imagined I could. I can't become fluent in a foreign language as quickly as I thought. I can't fix everything and always be culturally correct and never get laughed at in the market and always have a perfectly wonderful day. I can't do everything. Thank goodness. 2 Corinthians 4:7 says, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.” I'm thankful that God chooses to show His power through me, an imperfect jar of clay.