A child's journey through hell and back

Ishmael Beah tells his story…It’s 1993 in his country of Sierra Leone. He’s a happy go lucky normal 12 year-old boy with a fixation for American rap and hip-hop. One day, he, along with his older brother and good friend, travel to a nearby village to participate in a rap contest. To save money, they decide to walk the 16 miles. Since it is only to be a day trip, they wear only the clothes on their back. They decide to stay the night in Kabati with Ishmael’s grandmother before continuing on their journey. The next day they arrive to their destination, the town of Mattru Jong only to hear that school has been canceled because word has spread that the rebels were on their way to attack the village. They learn that the war has already swept through Ishmael’s village, leaving nothing and nobody alive. Thus begins the longest nightmare of Ishmael’s life. He and his brother decide to turn back in hopes to find their parents, only to find their home in rubbles, and no sign of their parents. They never saw them again. Ishmael is eventually separated from his brother by the rebel army and for a year he runs and walks alone throughout the country desperately trying to escape the rebels. He witnesses unimaginable acts and bloodshed that will forever taunt his mind and heart. A year later, he is captured by the government army of Sierra Leone and forced to be a boy soldier to fight the rebels. He is trained to kill anyone who is not a government soldier and to commit horrible acts himself. Little had he know that on that day to the rap contest a year ago his childhood would be lost forever. After three years in the government army, at age 16, he is rescued by UNICEF and taken to a recovery center where he suffers severe withdrawals, anger, and self hate, and psychological torture from memories and images of the last 4 years. He eventually travels to the United States and gets a degree in Political Science and becomes a member of the Humans Right Watch Children’s Rights Division Advisory Committee and speaks on behalf of the suffering and war of his people in Sierra Leone and throughout Africa. A powerful moving story that causes me to ask the question, What now? How can I help? How can we help fellow humanity in war-torn nations? What does it look like for Jason and I to fight injustice as we live here? May we never let ourselves become ignorant of the world beyond us.

~n

our christmas prayer

Enlarge my heart 

to love You more,

when I am stumbling

on the way;

only the heart

enlarged by You

runs to obey.

-Ruth Bell Graham

Feliz Navidad!

promoting peace

I just finished reading Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson…AMAZING!! It’s an incredible story of the author Greg’s determination and passion for the people and children of Central Asia (Pakistan and Afghanistan). He devotes his life to building schools in remote villages where there, the children sit on the grass and draw their arithmetic with sticks in the dirt because they have no school, no supplies, and no teacher.

I loved this book for so many reasons. I am passionate about cultures and I love to experience foreign places, culture, food, people, and ideas and values. It was fascinating to me to live overseas and experience a foreign way of life and culture, but what impacted me the most, was the people….to know the people.

The author and main character, Greg Mortenson is astounded at what he finds when he stumbles upon the Pakistani people….he is profoundly changed by their hospitality, their dreams, and their values. After he asks to visit the village school and finds children seated on the ground doing their arithmetic with sticks, he promises to build them a school. And that he does. He toils, struggles, suffers huge obstacles, and ends up raising money to build a school in the village that he has come to love so deeply. He forms profound life-long friendships with the people of this village. Years, and many new schools later, he creates the Central Asia Institute and builds 77 more schools in small villages throughout Pakistan and Afghanistan, all the while gaining the respect of village elders and national leaders. His driving force is his belief that to change a nation, is to educate its children, especially its girls. This is how a nation becomes empowered to sustain itself. It is educating its children that will eventually fight and end terrorism (not war). He gets to the root of the issue of terrorism instead of just fighting it. “In America’s case, that’s not Osama or Saddam or anyone else. The enemy is ignorance. The only way to defeat it is to build relationships with these people, to draw them into the modern world with education and business. Otherwise the fight will go on forever” (page 310). If only more Americans would understand this!

Throughout the book, I got to thinking…I don’t know whether Greg knows Jesus, but his story is that of the incarnate Christ and how we as Christians are to imitate Christ to others, and to cultures and nations that we encounter. Greg spent time with the people, he taught himself the language of the people, he dressed liked them, and learned their customs and what they valued, and why they did the things they did. He took the time to learn them and understand them. I love that. That is what “ministry” and missions is to be. We enter in to a culture as guests, to learn everything we can and most of all to serve them. This requires humility.

Another thing that is crucial to missions and ministry is that it be locally owned and run. Greg sought out the elders of the village for advice, wisdom, and direction. He used the nation’s tools, materials, supplies, and built schools in the context of their culture…not “American” schools, but Pakistani and Afghani schools that reflected their culture and arts. He raised up teachers from within to teach their schools. He didn’t bring in Americans to teach their people. This is so that they can sustain themselves and continue on and teach their own people…passing on peace from generation to generation.

Likewise, missions or ministries in other cultures and nations must be started with the goal that it be led by natives. From the start, we are to be raising up locals to carry it on. So it is with the gospel. Christ must be shared in the context of one’s culture (by the way, you've got to read Peace Child, if you haven’t already). We do not bring an “American gospel.” A question to ask is, How will this people understand the sacrifice of Christ from their cultural understanding?

These are just some of my thoughts that I am super passionate about. Man, if I could live a couple of years in every country of the world, I would, for Christ is revealed in different and unique ways in each culture.

All that to say, Three Cups of Tea is a must read!

To read more about Greg Mortenson's work visit: http://www.threecupsoftea.com/

~n

2 years ago today...

The Two Hour Battle of the Recalcitrant Druid Sacrifice and the Sedulous Festooners

Ah yes. It is once again time for us to do something that we have no idea the meaning of: cut down a symbol of pagan fear, the biproduct of over active Irish/Jute imaginations. Well, as a tribute, Naomi and I took this very seriously. We drank Glog to represent the crimson blood spilled of those whose bodies remain forever hidden beneath layers of heavy peat and the blood that we our selves have been spared of losing. Thus, the documentation of a fierce and irrational battle between tradition and senility. (The title is more a need to use words I never can in normal conversations). 

 

You should all be glad there was no audio to this sequence of photos.
Oh, and my crimson hat...very necesary to show how serious i am about sacrifices...not my head!

Naomis reaction to the tree flipping me off behind my back...dont worry, i gave it a solid "what-for" when I turned around. 

See, this is the "what-for"...a fierce festooning! That'll teach'em.

What i saw as a result of too much Glog and festooning. 

OH NOOOO! GREAT GOD OF THOR! The tree is spitting giant florescent neon colored Druid gametes! Ruuun!...

Glad you could share in the pure nonsense of our holiday. Cheers!

Third Snow

We have received another snow! A week after our post thanksgiving snow, we have a new four inches (which, is slowly fading) but lasted an entire day with temperatures, that as a high, was 25 F and a low of 14 F. Heres a few pics.  

The morning after, at 7 am looking down our street. When I took this photo it was 8 F, the overnight low was 4F. Far far faaaar colder than the balmy NW. Thank you Jesus!
Yes...its cold inside, too. 

My plan is to document every snow we get...as over-done as it is.