True Friends

"What is 'syg' an abbreviation for at the end of her text?" I asked my teacher, reading aloud a text message from a Papuan friend that I didn't completely understand.

It's hard enough to work out the straight Indonesian words, but can you imagine trying to figure out text message abbreviations? Yeah, that's a whole other thing.

"It means 'honey'. It's something women use for their true friend." he responded and I couldn't control the sudden eruption of joy.

I threw my hands in the air and gave out the most satisfied, "Yes!" of my life.

Amused, my teacher smiled and commented, "That makes you really happy, huh?"

"So much! I always wonder if the friends I am making here really like me, or if they are just being polite to the foreign lady. I always wonder if I am really making true friendships."

It was all joy overflowing for the rest of the day. Even now, thinking about my Papuan friend who I very much enjoy spending time with and realising she also genuinely enjoys my company, it's beyond meaningful to me.

I used to struggle hardcore with rejection. Fearful of not being accepted, even to the point of walking by a group of laughing people and concluding that they must be laughing at me. I constantly wondered what people really thought of me and mostly determined I was not all that likeable, fun or interesting.

Then I met Jesus and read His words about me. I began to understand that my identity lies in Christ and to trust Him even with my personality. I am the way that I am by design, not by some failure. As these truths rooted deep within my heart the fear of rejection largely became a thing of the past.

Then I came to Papua. Navigating a culture very different than my own and trying to make friends with limited language, that old fear of rejection came creeping back.

As I sat in class, beaming from ear to ear, I realised I'd given way to a fear long since conquered.

The truth is, my identity as a loved and cherished child of God doesn't change with my location. It doesn't change just because I dont understand the cultural cues around me. It never changes.

I breath easy again. Feet once more planted firmly on the unshakeable rock of Christ's love for me. Secure in the knowledge that this love that heals and sets my heart at peace, exists not just for me, but for the whole world.

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:38-39

Wait, What's My Message Again?

It is the end of the week here in Papua and I am exhausted. It's been 100+ degrees every single day and with two nights in a row without electricity and therefore without a/c I haven't been sleeping well. Our bedroom, with no window ventilation, easily reaches 90degrees on hot days even with the a/c on. The wall next to my side of the bed is hot to the touch in the afternoon sun.

Mostly we've adjusted to the heat well, but night time is a different thing. It’s hard to sleep when it is so hot. We toss and turn on sweat soaked sheets.

Last night Isaiah didn't sleep well either and so when my lack of sleep encountered his lack of sleep, we had a major blow up. He was ridiculously whiny, I was ridiculously short tempered. Lots of time outs for both of us.

I'm sure our neighbours heard everything. The same walls that let the heat in, let the sound out with the same ease. So when we have one of those insane yelling fits that Christians aren't supposed to have, everybody knows it.

Attempting to keep up appearances is hopeless. When you live this close to your neighbours, they are going to see your worst days.

So while I'd like to be the shining example of “Hey, look how well I follow Jesus! He’ll change you too just like He changed me!” I instead have a knock down drag out fight with the question Does my life match my message?
 

By Otto Koning

If you’ve never heard The Pineapple Story it’s one you must hear. The story takes place in Papua New Guinea, where a missionary has his crop of pineapples stolen day in and day out by the people he went to serve and spent years in angry yelling chasing thieves. One day he finally prayed, “I give up! These are YOUR pineapples Lord!” and stopped trying to stop the thieves. After a wacky chain of events that followed the people noticed a difference and in one humbling encounter told the missionary, “We figured it out! You are not angry any more. You must have finally become a Christian!”

Can you imagine? You move across the world and your daily life does not match your daily message. That’ll break your heart.

What is my message and does it line up with how I live my life?
 
This is a very real and ever present struggle. One that forces me to lay my heart bare and ask for correction and forgiveness nearly every day. Perhaps the only message I have is, I know a radical Love that reaches into my mistakes with compassion and forgiveness. If you’ll let me, I’ll tell you all about Him.

Belizean Boy

We've just returned today from our very first cruise. A 7 day Western Caribbean tour with Carnival Cruise Lines stoping in Cozumel, Belize, Isla Roatan, and Costa Maya. We had a great time celebrating my mother in-law's 60th birthday (which was last September, but never mind about that). Isaiah thoroughly enjoyed having the attention of his grandparents and two uncles.

Without doubt my favorite part of the cruise was seeing the monkeys in Belize. Actually, the monkeys don't have much to do with it at all. Seeing the monkeys allowed a glimpse into how Isaiah will do when we live in Papua.

We had no idea what we were going to do that day when we walked through the port area. A man holding a sign with pictures of tour options caught our attention and after a bit of discussion the monkey trip was selected. We followed him around to the tour office to pay and meet out guide.

Mrs Chris introduced herself and told us to wait while she went for the van. A little while later she pulled up in a mini van and we all piled inside. Isaiah fell asleep as Chris drove us around the city and talked about Belizean culture and her own upbringing as a poor farmer's daughter.

We soon drove out of the city and headed for the jungle. When we arrived at the location where we would see the monkeys everyone jumped out and went to meet our second guide. Mrs Chris said he was the best at monkey encounters.

The second guide's name was Manfred. He met us at the gate barefoot and with a big smile. Seeing that Manfred was barefoot Isaiah too quickly ditched his shoes. Keen to explore, Isaiah ran along the trails at the front of the group looking very much at home in the jungle. Chris commented to me, "He is a little Belizean boy running around with no shoes!"

On the drive back when I told Isaiah we were going "to the big ship", Isaiah asked, "Chris, too! Chris too please Mommy!"

Chris was touched when I told her Isaiah wanted her to go back to the ship with us. "In five years of giving tours this is the first little boy to every take off his shoes and run around like a Belizean. He is also the first to ask for me to go back to the ship. You have a very special one!"

Indeed we do. Isaiah did instinctively what missionaries can take years to accomplish. He just fit. And I cannot tell you how much this did for my heart. I have wondered and worried about how Isaiah would do in another culture. After Belize, I won't worry any more.