We have to Believe it

It's much easier to spread the Love when we believe it ourselves.

I still think of and pray often for my friend Hank. I've been thinking a lot about how this evangelism thing is easier than we think.

Today I walked home through City Hall (like every day) and stopped to chat with three people I saw drinking along the side of a building. We talked about many things. I told them about Africa, they told me about street life, and for some reason, the conversation always steers towards God. Two are believers, one isn't. I talked to them about cleaning up and about how much God loves us. I think I even used the example that God loved that woman just as much as he loved Obama, the way they are right now. They desperately wanted me to pray for them and so I did. We talked about church after and two of them plan to show up Sunday morning. I hope they do! I told them I'd treat them to lunch after. We'll see what happens, but I'll pray earnestly for their arrival.

We must believe what we say. If there is no truth in our words, there is no light in our words. And it's the light that casts away darkness. The Spirit can't use idle words. Our words are only transformational if we speak them boldly and we honestly believe them!

And evangelism isn't about "saving souls", like it's some kind of rat race. It's about allowing people to experience the life Christ intended for us! Life in communion with Him. It's full of love, joy, peace, and hope. One thing our world is missing right now is HOPE. We talk about oil spills, drug lords in Jamaica, Aids in Africa, outrageous numbers of suicides on reserves, and there seems to be no point. Our world is a disaster. We need to hope.

It's funny. One of the men I met really wants to help support me in Africa. He wants to find me on Monday to give me $50 when he gets his cheque and even in the summer, he wants to raise money at a Pow Wow for me. He wanted to know how to get a hold of me by that time and I really didn't have an answer for him so the best we could come up with is sending a smoke signal.

Half of what is mine is yours

Today I went for lunch at BPs. I had the most delicious buffalo chicken sandwich. I never steer away from it and try anything else, it's just too good. It's a very large sandwich and I usually eat the whole thing. I just can't stop eating it. But afterwards I hurt and immediately regret my impulsive decision. Today I ate only half of it and boxed the other half.

Today I also met Hank. Well Hank is his street name he says. His real name is Henry. I met him walking home from school. He stopped me and asked for a quarter. I did my usual, "Sorry I have no money" but we continued to talk. He told me he's a lone ranger, originally from Battleford. Between his slurred speech and drooling he also told me he's 57 and I also heard the word "hungry" somewhere in there. Perfect, I thought! I have half a sandwich. I gave it to him and he seemed excited. But he told me not to worry about him because he's a survivor. He went to a Residential School, been through two divorces and travelled all over alone. When I asked if he had kids he immediately broke down and cried, telling me he had a son but the police found him frozen just outside of Saskatoon ten years ago. My heart sank. I asked him if I could pray for him and he tried to brush me off, saying he was fine. But he never left. He then let me pray for him and in the middle of the School Division parking lot, as people walked past, I prayed for him. We kissed and hugged and talked some more and said good-bye a hundred times but never seemed to be able to leave.

Half of what is mine is yours.

John was speaking to a crowd, and after he called them all vipers, they asked, "What should we do then?" John answered, "The man with two tunics should share with him who has none, and the one who has food should do the same." (Luke 3:11)

People interpret this many ways. But I say, if you have a whole buffalo chicken sandwich, half of it doesn't belong to you.

Letter from George

We will never understand God or His love if we do not love our neighbour actively, and we will never love our neighbour actively and regardless unless we understand the love of God. We do not have the capacity to love our neighbour with our own love. We can have sympathy and even try to care but we cannot love without God. God is love. The first sign of dead religion is running from this love (to practise it) and replace it with rules and commands. This also will never work and is done out of guilt. The only love that will last is love from God. With that love we can love our enemies and we can love when it is not appreciated.

Henri Nouwen wrote in Open Hands, “It is hard to bear with people who stand still along the way, lose heart, and seek their happiness in little pleasures which they cling to... You feel sad about all that self-indulgence and self satisfaction, for you know with an indestructible certainty that something greater is coming...” Luke 9:25 says, “What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit his very self?” C S Lewis said (my own words) “men and women who really changed the world are people who thought about the next world the most. People who think about this world and its pleasures spend their time to be as happy as they can in this world.”

John Piper asked this question, ”If you could have heaven with no sickness, and with all your friends, and all the food you like, and all the leisure activities, and all the physical pleasures, and no human conflict, could you be satisfied with heaven, if Christ was not there?” What a tough question for many!! Paul writes, “The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.”

Love only starts when you discover and acknowledge who you are and where Christ met you – in your condition. I studied theology and listened to many wise people on grace and yet I had no clue because I never saw myself. When I met Niki I saw myself and asked God why me? Why her? That is grace!! Out of that understanding we are compelled to love. Not commanded, not out of guilt but out of a deep sense of gratitude. What kind of God will do that – Phil 2? David Livingstone once said, “People said I made sacrifices in Africa... they must not talk like that I never made a sacrifice. We ought not to talk of sacrifice when we remember the great sacrifice which He made who left His Father’s throne on high to give Himself for us.”

Now Hands is saying our testimony is that we defy the rules of culture and perception. We believe Africa need outsiders and outsiders need Africa. We believe submitting to each other and servanthood and giving up rights and the “us and them” attitude. Although many bad things were written about Christians (and rightly so) we believe there were amazing communities living out the Mount Sermon principles. Radical love! Are we there? Are we sinless? No but we believe! We aspire and dream if not us then the next generation. We refuse to let the stinking world and materialism and peer pressures tell us what is important! We believe in the parable of the man who found the great treasure and sold EVERYTHING to buy that field. We challenge and defy the world telling us to gather and out of security to give a little! We rather face uncertainty and criticism with those that we serve. We chose Christ unashamedly and in a world where it is so unpopular to trust Him we will should it out... mostly by what we do... but we will shout it out!
-George Snyman

The Spirit of a Champion

Osborne Mwape is 11 years old and lives with his grandmother, Bana Kulu, in a community in Kabwe Zambia. His parents were HIV positive until they passed away in 2003. His mother died from Tuberculosis. She was not a believer but did give her life to the Lord on her death bed. The suffering and hardships Osborne endures are great. The hut that he and his granny share, burned down recently, and they had to use plastic and grass as a means of shelter during the cold and rainy winter season. Food is also scarce and Osborne sometimes misses school to look after the house while his grandmother goes out to look for a job or food.

Hands at Work representative Floyd Mwila, a home based care manager in Kabwe oversees, New Life Christian community school which Osborne attends. The establishment of the school was partly due to a request by Osborne whose wish was to get some education to prepare him for the future. The school not only provides education but also helps to support and encourage Osborne, giving hope for his young dreams to be realized.

Osborne has the spirit of a champion; even at school, he is known as an encourager of the other young boys. His energy and willingness to participate, far surpasses his small size, be it in sport, school clean-up chores or any other school activities. Osborne is in grade 4 and is achieving good marks; he is positive and his little spirit is on fire!

40 Days of Prayer for Orphan Care

My friend recently read Richard Rohr (a Franciscan monk) describe prayer like this: "Prayer is indeed the way to make contact with God/Ultimate Reality, but it is not an attempt to change God’s mind about us or about events. Such attempts are what the secularists make fun of—and rightly so. It is primarily about changing our mind so that things like infinity, mystery, and forgiveness can resound within us. The small mind cannot see Great Things because the two are on two different frequencies, or channels, as it were. The Big Mind can know big things, but we must change channels. "



Today, as Hands at Work, we are starting 40 days of prayer for orphan care. I would like to invite all of you to join us. Please spend some time over the next 40 days and join us in prayer and meditation for orphans and that people will join the cause of caring for them. If you would like to join us, please click this link and look for the prayer guide link at the bottom of the page.

Home is where the Heart is.

They say home is where the heart is.

I've been home for exactly a month now. I must admit, at first it was incredibly difficult. I came home to rest and be with family and to just wait. No thinking allowed. But as soon as I got on the plane, my mind raced and continued to race for two weeks.

I struggled to just be.

I couldn't stop thinking about going back to Africa and began planning for when I would go back, which was against what I had told myself. I wanted to come home and be at home and not think or make decisions.

There was one moment when it all changed. I was driving up north to Goodsoil, where my mom's side of the family is. I was driving my brother, who was ... under the weather. This was New Years Day. He was KO'd in the passengers seat and I looked over at him and just felt so happy to be home and be with him and be with the rest of my family. I'm so blessed to come home everyday to an incredible sister (who is the best mom in the world, by the way), a considerate brother-in-law, and two CRAZY cute and funny nieces that crack me up ALL the time.

I've started teaching, too. Well, I'm subbing. Teachers call me when they're sick. It's been a huge challenge. The students are usually big disasters for a sub. But even in this moment I definitely don't want to even think of being a full-time teacher.

And for some reason teaching has caused me to be unsettled again. Today I found myself thinking about getting another part-time job. I loved the idea of working at the library, serving coffee.. something mindless and different. Perhaps it's just a way for me to cope.

It's been strange because I recognize SO many things I can be involved in here. Young adults Bible Study (which I love), Outreach with my church (which is new and just opened up with my friend's father leading it. I'm meeting with him next week to dream and brainstorm), working with churches on reserves and getting my feet back into the Aboriginal community.

And today I found my mind wandering again to Africa. I was reading the stories and posts on the Hands website (www.handsatwork.org) and was getting hot feet (opposite of cold feet?). I was reading one of George's postings titled "Prisoners of Hope" and felt greatly encouraged by a prayer of St. Francis he included:

“May God bless you with discomfort
at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships
So that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger
At injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
so that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God bless you with tears
To shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger, and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless you with enough foolishness
To believe that you can make a difference in the world,
So that you can do what others claim cannot be done
To bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.”

Eaten alive

So, as I sit here and think of a title to this blog, I am being eaten alive by invisible mosquitoes.

This past week I've spent more time in the communities. I focused mostly on the community schools, assessing the teachers and even doing teaching. It was the best! I don't remember if I wrote about this already. But it was the best. I love teaching. Love Love Love Love.

On Saturday I did a workshop for the teachers. Can you imagine? This little girl in Nigeria teaching teachers how to teach. The workshop included topics such as Assessment, Classroom Management (including intrinsic vs extrinsic motivation and positive vs. negative reinforcement), Learning Styles, Curriculum Development (short term to long term planning), Taxonomy of Learning (focusing mostly on Cognitive Domain), ... weeeeeeeeeeee.

My highlight has still been spending time in Badia with Pastor Chris and Faith. It's a community lined with brothels. There is a deeply ingrained culture of sex, drugs, and alcohol. And it's a dark community with major strongholds. On Tuesday we had a meeting with women from two of the brothels. We introduced ourselves and were asking how we could support them in caring for their children. After we felt like we spoke enough, we asked how many of them are caring for children, and emphasized either their own or a relative's. No one, not one of the women admitted to having children. The sad part is that most of them do have children. They can't admit to it because it's bad for business. So they hide their children in the deep dark corner of their shack somewhere within the slum. There is a free government school in the area but they won't even dare send their children because then people, even worse the government, will know. These community is so heavy on my heart. But Chris and Faith are doing incredible work. Some of the women came to us afterward in secret saying they have children and want help. We have hope that the women will begin to trust us and see that we don't want to condemn them or steal their children, but we want to love them. There are incredible visions of a care centre there, where children can come, where mothers can come to receive counseling, to just rest, to receive extra lessons, ... it's going to be awesome.

On a completely opposite note, yesterday Lize and I took a day out and went to the beach. The thought of Nigerian beaches is really not a pretty thought... but we were pleasantly surprised when we got to the beautiful white sand and crystal blue waters. That was cut short, though, due to the awful pestering of local people. "Come this way Owebo", "Buy this Owebo", ... all we wanted was peace. So we called a guy we had met recently from South Africa who's living in Nigeria and he picked us up in his sweet ride and took us to the Yacht Club. Yep, you heard it. The YACHT CLUB. It was surreal. We rode on a boat and hung out on the Yacht Club's personal beach.

Nigeria has been an interesting experience. I've loved every second of being in the communities and helping to build the model, supporting and encouraging our people on the ground. There are a lot of things in Nigeria I won't miss. But there are a lot of things I will. This place is just so bizarre that in between fits of anger erupts fits of giggles. This place is just so bizarre.