Our Journey

Suffering is real; God is real. Suffering is a mark of our existential authenticity; God is proof of our essential and eternal humanity. We accept suffering; we believe in God. The acceptance and the belief both come from “the depths.”

Eugene Peterson

I often write with trepidation about the difficulty, struggles and grief that we find on our journey here in Malawi. I do not want to seem ignorant or apathetic to the challenges and grief in every home and every land. What I think is different here is that we do not know – or even have available – the resources so readily at our fingertips to deal with them. The need for resources can range from the most mundane to the most critical. And as I’m discovering, what I used to consider mundane can become quite critical.

For example, I have never given much thought to the process of waste disposal in the US or here in Malawi. My biggest challenge in the US was remembering to put the bin at the curb on the pre-arranged day. (The bin that was delivered to my door with clearly printed instructions on the lid – in my first langauge.) And I have not given it much thought here because Wilson just took care of it. Not a very good excuse from someone who claims to care about the environment. I have heard passing conversations between him and Jeff about garbage pits and the need for a new one. At the old house I tried to explain composting but I’m not sure what happened to the food scraps once they left the kitchen.

But now we have been informed that the area we were using as a trash pit is off limits. And there is no other place nearby. I have sent a text message to my landlord and she assures me that Blantyre does provide trash pick up for a small fee. Wilson thinks she is mistaken. In the meantime, we’re waiting for the landlord to get back to us and I see Wilson is storing our trash in plastic bags out back. This cannot be good.

Then there is the Rav4! Jeff is a saint for dealing with the car. In a country where the cost of original Toyota parts are sky high and the labor astronomical, it takes a long time to find the necessary parts – still Toyota (I think) but not factory direct – and the mechanics, who have specialized garages scattered all over town. After all the driving and searching and paying and hassle, the breaks still squeal, we’ve been informed that the suspension is permanently wrecked, “but safe to drive”, and the passenger side seatbelt does not hold anyone in her seat. Car hassles are car hassles wherever you are, but at least you know where to go and can have some assurance of safety.

The church thinks Jeff and I and our western ways are crazy. We don’t understand the enormous faith factor that enables them to take action, move forward and break ground without a plan or clear way forward towards their dreams becoming realized. But we work and serve together, extending grace and hoping for the best.

Then there are more weighty matters, like domestic violence. What happens when the first news (well, second news after the guard asks you for a loan to repair his roof) you receive in the morning is that a husband was attacked in the night by his wife? How does one react as employer? as pastor? as a very poor Chichewa speaker? The YWCA does not have a branch here. There are no hotlines to call – as far as I know. And I DON’T SPEAK CHICHEWA!

So today I have a heavy heart. Not unlike the challenges of those facing unemployment at home or lack of health insurance. Or waiting for test results or mourning loved ones. Or struggling in marriages or worrying about kids. But today I wish I knew how to get a trash bin, where to REALLY get the car fixed, how to be in ministry together, where to direct friends for help and how to heal a broken heart.

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It started out simply enough… Claire was invited by a friend to play football, aka soccer, at the Phoenix sports fields on Saturday morning. Jeff and I have expressed a desire to get to know more of Claire’s friends’ parents and extend our friendships, realizing a strong community of support will important as we make our home here for the next two years. So when Claire and I pulled up to find several cars in the parking lot, I was looking forward to chatting with the mom and meeting some new people.

It turns out that the fields are a gathering space for families on Saturday mornings to play football – a field for little kids and the big field for older kids, men and women. Wonderful!

At the break between periods, I was introduced to a Canadian pastor who has lived in Malawi for 18 years pastoring a Pentecostal church. After he asked where I was from I was immediately in the midst of a conversation about the “ridiculous idea” of building a Mosque charading as a religious center at Ground Zero. I could barely keep up as the conversation proceeded, “Palin will straighten it all out,” “Clinton creating a disaster in the Middle East,” “we can’t keep the Malawians from coming in off the street to worship with us; the pastor just encourages us to watch our handbags.”

As the pastor returned to play I was listening to how lovely the woman’s Muslim neighbors were but the perplexing question of “how to reach them”. They are so devout, so disciplined and SO religious. And they are the sweetest people and most delightful neighbors. “All we can do is be kind and generous in return, I guess,” she said.

Maybe she kept talking because I couldn’t string any intelligible words together, “United Methodist,” “new here,” “there are already mosques in the same neighborhood,” “yes, very faithful”. This is the world and conversation I had been so happy to stumble into? We are all Christians, serving God as best we know how in different country than our birth. But we see the world so differently.

As I drove home I realized I was having an eerily similar dialogue with myself as the one I had just heard, “They are obviously religious and passionate people. They are so gracious and hospitable to Claire, and the nicest family. All I can do is be kind and generous in return, I guess.”

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In our most recent newsletter, I described the job descriptions that Jeff and I will be living into this year. The ink was barely dry on the paper when Jeff received a text from the District Superintendent, “Jeff, please prepare budget for Round Table meeting and submit to Bishop.” And so it begins…

Yesterday we loaded up books and files that were stacked on top of, under and around the house to take to our new office just adjacent to the District Superintendent and Treasurer. With books on shelves and chairs on either side of the desk, we opened our laptops in the beautiful silence of no distractions. After moving the internet device around the office for a couple hours, Jeff was able to find the sweet spot and up came email (and facebook, too).

As we finished unpacking Daniel brought me a file folder with information on a grant that needs to be renewed by the 15th. I made contact with the Health Coordinator for the conference and then sipped Mzuzu coffee and edited a manuscript on the history of evangelism in Africa. Jeff worked on the assigned budget.

Soon we heard a scraping and dragging in the hall. Opening our door we found Daniel scooting an entire file cabinet out of his office and down the hall to ours!!! Why hand over one folder and one assignment at a time when he could transfer it all en mass? We laughed, and accepted it into our office. We will be off the road more this year, but equally as busy.

This morning Jeff found another assignment slipped under the door when we arrived. I have requested a meeting with Rev. Mhone before he leaves for Lilongwe. And the Youth President is coming at 1pm to talk about the exciting revival (280 youth) that happened just before we arrived in Malawi and future plans for ministry. And I hope to finish editing the history of evangelism in Africa.

We wondered what it would mean to serve another year in Malawi and how we could be helpful. Those lines are quickly being colored in. And it’s wonderful to be of service during this exciting time in the Malawi Missionary Conference.

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