Our Journey

I’m sitting in Mzuzu just three months into our Missionary commitment reading of another’s woman’s departure from Uganda as her family’s three-year commitment comes to an end. As I read her description of the farewell party, tears rolled down my cheeks. So quickly this place has become my home. And these people, my people. Speaking and teaching in the villages and churches, Jeff and I use the pronouns “we” and “us” not with great intentionality or forced solidarity, but as a natural and instinctual response to the welcome in Malawi and the affirmation of God’s call to this time and place.

But our at-home-ness does not dull the vast differences between the culture I came from and the one I now live in.  Sometimes the reminders are startling reminders of the difference in development, like my conversation with the pastor’s wife as we waited in line at the pit latrine between Sunday School and worship, “No,” I answered, “there are not pit latrines in America. No, not even in the rural areas.” Those of you reading this in America who have traveled more than I and done mission work in Appalachia and in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina may correct me. But the fact that I have no firsthand knowledge of persons with pit latrines speaks volumes of the disparate worlds.

Sometimes the reminders of the differences reveal how quickly we have become accustomed to the lack of common conveniences at home, like the joy and awe I felt just moments ago when I saw a washing machine in the Anglican Guesthouse where we are staying. There is no electricity to turn it on, but the machine is a wonder and source of excitement nonetheless.

The change in culture is changing me as well. Some aspects are more trivial. Those of you who know me at all know that I love good food and lots of it! But a quick trip to the supermarket today yielded white bread, peanut butter, chutney chips (delicious!), apples, bananas and powdered milk for the splurge of Frosties cereal, complete with Tony the Tiger on the box. No brie or pastries or Trader Joe Kettle Korn, but still I’m quite satisfied.

Other changes are deeper, more substantial. This morning I prepared to preach a version of a sermon I have delivered before in Malawi on Mark 6. It’s a good one. It has resonated well with the people and seemed to strike a good balance of study, formation and cultural relevance. But I began to feel uneasy about it this morning; it wasn’t quite right for the church here in Mzuzu.

So as the choruses were sung and announcements were made, I chose a new text, a text that has called my attention several times in recent months for no apparent reason. But this morning it seemed perfect for the preaching, John 20: 19 – 29, Doubting Thomas.  And so I made a couple notes, stepped to the front, prayed for God’s guidance and preached a new sermon, a sermon I had not yet written. Nor had I read commentaries or had the opportunity to sprinkle in a few key and illustrative quotes from famous theologians. I simply preached the message as I saw it and see its relevance for us in Malawi. You’ll have to ask those who were gathered about the delivery, but I feel I made the right choice. If you are in my Covenant Group, chalk one up to following the prompting of the Holy Spirit.

The transition and changes have not always been easy, but each one binds us more closely to the people, the church and the land. Now on Sunday afternoon, I am lounging on the verandah, finishing a novel and writing. The boys are napping. Marie Claire is reading and Claire Marin is jumping rope. It’s a rare and welcome siesta on a Circuit Visit. It’s cooler in Mzuzu. The sun is shining, the breeze is in the trees. I hear children laughing next door. For now I will not think about leaving this beautiful country. The tears will come but not today.  I am at peace. May God’s peace also rest with you. Amen.