Puddly

Rainy season in Nigeria leaves everything in varying shades of green. A few mangoes still cling to the naturally symmetrical trees and cows grace loudly on the hill behind our compound. There are puddles to play in, both in the mud and on the old tennis court where we play pickle ball every morning. One morning Zach said he'd take the puddle side of the court. Since it rains every day, it had been a long time I'd played without puddles. I knew how to manipulate the puddles and dig them out of a piddly bounce. I accepted! That was my mistake. After a stellar winning streak, I lost. I wasn't playing on my side, and yet, I didn't want to go back to the puddles either. I wanted to work to make it on this dry, easy-to-manuever surface that I had just discovered! Things were easier, yet, I had to find a different way to work.

The dry side

The puddle side

 

 

When we were wrapping up, I reflected on the experience. It was easy for Zach to choose to go to the puddle side. It was hard for me to go back to the puddle side. I didn't know how nice it was to not slip, dig, strain my brain to get across the court safely. If I'd never experienced it, I would have continued living contentedly with my puddles, something no one should really have to play pickle ball in. It's not safe and it's not really fair either. 

So it is for so many who find themselves living in a part of the world where having the bare minimum of shelter and food come through hard work, but at least they come. It is so difficult to think of going back to the puddles where it isn't really safe and no matter how hard you work, you may not reach your goal. If you do manage to, you often get really messy doing it and put yourself and those you love at risk. 

It's easy for someone from a puddle free environment to head over to the puddle side for a time, like my husband valiantly did. It's a choice. Most people living on the puddle side never have that choice, and they are often content living with the puddles because they have developed strength and resilience. In that process, if they are followers of Christ, they also tend to foster joy, a kind of joy that comes through struggle. The kind of joy that bubbles up in boistrous laughter and shining smiles. It still doesn't make it right. 

It would be audacious of me to tell someone who has found themselves living puddle free to say, "Go back and play in the puddles, you'll be fine, you've done it before."  By the time you've learned to play on a new side, your mind has adjusted, the returning is a whole other game.  In line with Romans 12, I pray that I may, "Not think of (myself) more highly than (I) ought, but rather think of (myself) with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of us. For just as each of us had one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others." (Romans 12:3-5) 

How would I treat a member of my body, think of them and their sacrifice, honor them in my prayers, and interact with them so they know that they are not alone in their struggle?  How can I respect the sacrifices they make to edify the body?  May God give us all wisdom. 

All in a Days Work

Days seem to pass in a blur.  Oh, but what a colorful blur they are!  Here are some snippets. 

 Wednesday:  

 

After a tournament of pickle ball with this birthday boy, we celebrated him breaking out of his teens into the big 20!  I've known him since he was 7. What a privilege to watch him grow into the athletic, caring, humorous person he is. 

Thursday: 

 

We went to the zoo!  We carried 45 kids to the zoo in piggyback trips! I had never seen a porcupine so close up!

We harvested some of our field corn.  I had serious nostalgia lifting my little girls up and teaching them how to twist their wrist just right to pick the ears off the stalk.  

 

 

Friday: 

 

The twins class in the Orange Hat are learning about insects.  I walked up to find them observing the ants and how they make holes in the ground. 

 

The Ministry of Women's Affairs for our state visited the Rooted House (a residential community established by the Orange Hat to help young women find wholeness).  We walked into a room with five girls concentrating on learning to sew. It was so joyful and beautiful!

 

 The Orange Hat Childcare Foundation was established initially as a place where children could come and read.  This year it has expanded to include: 

• The Lovin' Oven - A bakery for young women to be empowered as they learn to bake and grow in community. 
• Hwolemen- A mentorship initiative for young men
• The Rooted House- A residential community for young women currently with 11 residents. 
• Holiday Orange hat - Five weeks of super fun with 200 children exploring and learning 
• After School Lessons- For secondary school students the Orange hat sponsors in school. 
• After school lessons- For primary school students from local schools  

Any given day, I get to visit and experience the joy of at least two of these initiatives in full swing.  It makes life so full and joyful! Not to mention my own 6 lovely ladies +2 until they go to school, and one hard working husband.  Please do pray for these many initiatives and our family as we get to experience God working in powerful ways in the lives of so many.  

Relearning...He Cares?

Taken by one of my little girls during homeschool 2025. 

Do you ever feel like maybe your are as dense as diamond, pressed so compactly that concepts you learn over and over and over again do not penetrate your being to transform your thoughts?  And that maybe you are as rare as a diamond too, for this uncanny capacity to disregard all the whisperings of the Spirit deep in your being over the years doesn't seem to be the fate of all the maturing people around you? 

When I first memorized Philipians 4:4-7 sixteen years ago, I thought that "Always be full of joy in the Lord," didn't need to be said again, but Paul said it anyway, "I say it again--rejoice."  I was pretty confident in my ability to hear it and apply it the first time, but now, I realize how little I comprehend the power of rejoicing and I think I need Paul to say it about five hundred and seventy-eight more times.  It's not old age-o! (Nigerians often put "o" for emphasis, so I hope you understand that I am not OLD!) I'm just thick-spirited, if that is a thing.  Oh, and then the next bit.  

"Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything." Right. Of course.  I think Paul had to state the obvious for me, in this very season of my life and all the other thousands of times that I have felt it was just for me in THAT season of my life.  If this was the only verse I ever knew and took to heart and obeyed, it would transform everything about my life and how I handle the hard, currently really, really hard, things that I experience. Like that wasn't enough, he goes on. 

"Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.  Then you will experience God's peace, which exceeds anything we can understand.  His peace will guard your hearts and mind as you live in Christ Jesus."  The simplicity of this exhortation is astonishingly challenging for me.  My kids find it easy, "Mooooooooommy, I'm huuuuuuungry," says Acacia, who must be going through a growth spurt because after eating 4 servings of spaghetti for lunch, this is the third time this minute she's told me that.  When I finally stop with the last urgent need of putting Blessing on the big potty because the little one is too little and the big one is too big, I give Acacia a snack, and she says, "Thank you mommy, I love you mommy," and gives me a sloppy kiss on whatever part of explosed skin is closest to her mouth. She is at peace, contented, knows she's loved and heard. Any doubt that I loved her has now dissolved like the Munch it (Nigerian cheeto) she is sucking on. If only I could give my need to God and trust he's good, his goodness and peace guarding my heart. 

When I was in Sunday school last Sunday, and the teacher (who happens to be my husband) recited 1 Peter 5:7-8, "Give all your worries and cares to God for he cares for you. Stay alert!  Watch out for your great enemy, the devil. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour," I immediately started tearing up.  He said, "Think about a care or worry that you have now." And immediately, the roaring was upon me, worry and anxiety clamoring and attacking my faith, grabbing my attention away from the God who cares for me.  I had never realized how similar these two verses are.  Giving my cares to God (Peter) and not worrying about anything (Philipians), helps me to stay alert (Peter) and allows his peace to guard my heart and mind (Philipians) as I live in Christ Jesus. 

I have never been a worrier, had a great capacity to have faith and trust God in a beautifully childlike way! Well, the devil is a roaring lion, and he has figured out that if he can make me not give my cares to God, not pray, then he can consume me with the cyclical thoughts of "is God going to do this thing or not? Does he actually care? What if this all flops?"  It's the age-old temptation he used in the garden to think that God is holding out on me, and I should probably take things into my own hands.  He's not very creative, but he doesn't have to be because my sluggish human will and wandering heart finds dwelling on these devouring questions easier than meditating on my caring God.

Well, I'm onto him.  I may be slow but I've not closed my ears to those counsel of the Spirit's wisperings. The prowling growls that are trying to distract my heart and mind from the truth that God has brought me this far and he cares for me are being disarmed as I cast those cares, heaving them off my weary heart and into his enfolding embrace. He can carry each dream, longing, project, and loved one and mold them into his good pleasure and purpose.  

This season is sweet, with long days of ministry in the area of Bible translation, nurturing young people as they grow, and connecting with Zach on the pickleball court early in the morning.  It is also challenging, as we look at an uncertain date of traveling to the United States for furlough due to paperwork, of the huge task of Bible translation in Nigeria, of pressing needs all around us that we so desire to be wise and discerning in handling.  Pray that we will "give all our worries and cares to God, for he cares" for us. (1 Peter 5) and we know that his "peace that passes all understanding will guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus" (Phil. 4:7) as we unfailingly lay them at his feet. 

If you have cares that we can cast at Jesus feet together with you, please do write and let us know.  

Buying beads in the market.  I love shopping in Nigeria. The colors, sounds, and noises are a sensational bombardment. Invigorating!

Thirteen Years!

Christmas party 2016.  Only one sleepy baby girl and a giddy 10-year-old to shock with mommy kissing Santa in the good 'ol days!

We (Christy and Zach) got to get away for our 13th wedding anniversary on June 29th.  We went to Miango, the place where we went for an orginizational retreat in 2012, three days after I arrived in the country.  The place where, standing next to my future husband gazing over the missionary graveyard, I  told God that I was willing to live and die in this country as so many others had.  Asking in the same breath that he would give me love for his people here and deep conviction of that calling. 

Two months later, we got married in Holland, MI, surrounded by family and friends.  And a month later, August 2012, we moved into our first home in Jos, Nigeria.  I felt called to Zach. I was so homesick for Cameroon, for the community I had made there.  I was filled with expectancy of what God was going to do with us together. A mingling of loss and intense joy as we built a life together. 

We counted over 100 guests in our home the first year we were married, 

 not including the 40 children who came regularly for Bible study. 

We had lots of candlelit dinners those first few years.  Romantic and necessary since we rarely had power. 

From then til now, our family and community has grown.  When I look around, I am overwhelmed by the people God has placed in our lives. People that have challenged, prayed for, and envisioned with us. Like colors in the beautiful fabrics of Nigeria, they are the splashes of life and intricately woven beauty that have hemmed us into this country and her people.  

 

When we got married, Zach was doing language survey and I was doing literacy.  We both moved into Scripture Engagement in 2015 after returning with our masters from Dallas. 10 years later, he's the SIL Nigeria director and I'm at home with 6 girls and community engagements on the side! Zach's term as director will end late 2026.  We don't know what's next, but we've learned that God is trustworthy and his plan for us is for his glory and for our good. 

Please celebrate with us as we drink deeply of these days we have together in Nigeria.  

Lamp on a Stool

Before

 After months of slow progress on the script and choreography, harmonizing a dance team and a drama team into a cohesive group, we finally got to see "Lamp on a Stool," a story of modern day Daniel and his friends in Babylon, on stage.  It was more dynamic than any of us thought possible when we started in May. We performed it for about 200 people in the Jos Christian Youth Conference (JCYC) in collaboration with Common Ground Connection. If you'd like to see the show, you can go to this link on facebook: Lamp on a Stool

During 

 Please pray for this team as we continue our study "Purpose Driven Life" we started during the "Camping" week before the performances.  You watch "Come Home," the story of the prodigal son the second day of the conference.  Both of the 40 minute plays stretched our hearts, bodies, and relationships!  What an striking and life changing way to interact with the truths of Scripture! When I studied Scripture engagement for my masters, I never imagined doing something like this. 

After

One of Us

 "Abigail" responded the young woman filling the many water jugs in the cafeteria of the retreat center where we are celebrating our anniversary.  I had asked her her name in English. Zach promptly said to her in her language, "Good morning."  She laughed, she asked, "Are you from here?"  What a question...an identity question...are we from the same place?  "We live in Jos." Zach explained. "Who did you learn the language from?"  What a question...a communal question...who do we have in common?  Zach replied, "In our office, we have colleagues who speak your language."  "You are one of us," Abigail said with a genuinely delighted smile.  What a statement...a statement of belonging because we speak her language (if only a few phrases.)

As we walked out of the cafeteria, Zach said "See you later!" in the language, and I said "Thank you very much."  As her response and joyful laughter rang out from the screen door behind us, I turned to Zach and said, "That is why we do Bible translation."  We are one with her and her people because we speak her language.  God does too, more than a greeting or a well known phrase.  God knows the intricacies of how her language works and how it moves her heart.  We praise him that the Irigwe people already have the whole New Testament translated into their own language, they can know that God is with them, knows them, and has "moved into their neighborhood!" (John 1:14 MSG)

 Please continue to pray for the hundreds of other language communities in Nigeria where this reality is still masked because there is little or no Scripture yet in the language that speaks to their heart. 

One of our colleagues here is wearing a shirt that says, "God speaks your language" in the Nigerian Pidgin.

What could one verse in Ndokwa do?

I love to hear stories about God's Word changing lives.  Here in Nigeria I heard about one in a language that is a full day's journey from where we live.  If I had met someone from this community ten years ago, and found out what language they spoke, I would have silently thought to myself "We won't be able to start translation there for a long time."  Even three years ago I didn't know anything about the translation in this language. But now in Nigeria there are more than thirty organizations doing Bible translation in Nigeria.  My family has enjoyed praying this past year for many of the communities these partner organizations serve.  It is so exciting to hear what God is doing!

"As several Ndokwa people walked down the streets of their community in Nigeria, they heard an unfamiliar sound."  Read the rest of the story.