Weaknesses and Wonderfulnesses

I love Jesus sometimes. I mean obviously I’m aiming for the whole time but I suppose genuinely loving him on occasions is a good start – and, you will be glad to learn, I hope, that this is one of those occasions.

So, have some background. I’ve been asking Jesus to humble me for what must be nearly a year now. I know it sounds weird that I’m asking Jesus to change what I’m like rather than just doing it, but if you’ve ever tried you’ll know that something like pride is surprisingly tricky to change just by trying, so I ask Jesus to humble me, and I try to humble myself, and I hope that he’ll manage it with some help from me. Background over.

At the weekend I was feeling pretty exhausted. I’ve been pretty busy as you might have guessed, and even the ‘holiday’ weekend was quite effortful, and I haven’t had a proper Sabbath day off for ages, and I haven’t managed to spend enough time just chillin’ with Jesus. (Apologies to those with a more sophisticated taste in language, but I think chillin’ just about sums up what I’m missin’.) And the tiredness was starting to do that thing where it spills over from physical into mental and emotional and you just feel a bit like curling up for a long time, and it feels a bit silly when you remember that God promised that ‘those who hope in the LORD will ... soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint’. But then I got an email from my brother where he mentioned 2 Corinthians 12 verse 9. And I couldn’t remember what it was so I looked it up, and it just hit me like a really good hot shower. Paul writes this:

“To keep me from becoming conceited... there was given me a thorn in the flesh... Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

I honestly - no religious kid exaggeration - felt such joy from reading those words. “My power is made perfect in weakness”. It just hit me that it was OK for me to be weak, to be struggling, even to fail – it’s OK. It’s even a good thing, because when I realise that I’m not ‘good enough’ all by myself, I get to see just how good Jesus is. You never know how much your dad loves you until you really, really need a hug.

And then this morning I had a double English lesson to start the day – that’s half seven until twenty to nine. But last night it rained (which is good, the crops needed it) but this meant (the causal link is yet to be fully explained to me) that the students were incredibly late. At 7:30 there was one person waiting for Standard 6 – my class. We started at quarter to eight with about 10 kids, and they were still arriving at 8:30. My lesson failed miserably, and I felt miserable. And I had half an hour before my next one. And I came back to the hut, and I got on my knees and I prayed. And I found myself thanking Jesus that he had actually humbled me – that I had realised that I am actually not very good at this. I am not very good at making myself easy to understand, I am not very good at remembering their names, or planning lessons that work at their level, or resisting the temptation to use more and longer words when they are struggling to grasp the few short ones I started with. And I prayed that his power would be made perfect in my weakness. That my struggles and failures would somehow help to reveal how beautiful he is. And then I went out to my next set of lessons.

And, because Jesus is cool like this, they were absolutely brilliant. Not perfect obviously – those problems haven’t just evaporated – but they were much more fun, they felt pretty successful, and as I was doing them I just got happier and happier and happier.

I hope this hasn’t been sickeningly cheesy for all of you – and thanks for reading how I’m doing! If there are things I’m failing to mention that anyone would like to know, please do ask!

Auf wiedersehen,

Mike

Mikey's Big Day Out

I heard somewhere that walking around barefoot actually makes your feet more sensitive over time and you end up having a fuller experience because you’ve stimulated the sensory receptors - or something like that. I feel a little bit like I’ve been metaphorically living barefoot these last few days, and it’s been really good.

I’ve moved into the mud-hut now, and it’s great, but I won’t start there I’ll start with the journey. Because in one day I experienced just such a volume of stuff, it almost felt profound. So I got a couple of buses (catching a Malawian bus is an experience in itself but we won’t get into that) and while I was waiting for the second bus to go, the conductor ripped his T-shirt trying to load someone’s bicycle on. And after a while he turned to me and just said, “Could you give me a new shirt?”! And he showed me the rip and pointed at my bag and asked me again, and now he’s kind of grinning and I look around for some kind of idea about what to do, and the other Malawians are kind of laughing too – so I laugh with them – and in the end we shake hands on the deal that I’ll give money to a charity rather than just giving him a shirt. Then once that bus got going I had a great conversation with a pin-stripe-suited, walking-stick-carrying septuagenarian school teacher, who was just one of those lovely old people who ooze kindness and all of that. Then I got off that bus and walked along the road for a while – and there was a moment that really looked like art, with one man doggedly cycling up a steep hill in the road, completely alone, with blank grassland stretching out on either side. Then I got picked up by my new host, Richard Hewitt – in a way that reminded me really weirdly of getting lifts back from town with Dad. Except it was a lot hotter. And the car was filled with a pleasant selection of African sculptures, which Dad’s usually wasn’t. Also, in the car, we were giving another guy a lift, and I was eating some custard creams (interesting they actually taste of custard here) and I offered him one, he said, ‘No, no you keep them’, so I had some more and offered again a bit later. He said, ‘Thank you!’, took the rest of the packet and put it in his bag! I tried to hide the look of mild confusion. Then I had a beautiful moment standing in a car park in Lilongwe, when I looked up and saw the moon, and it struck me that it’s the same moon that I could see back at home. I don’t think that’s as profound as it felt at the time, but there we go. And then on the next leg of the journey we stopped off for cold drinks and I got a bottle of ‘Peach and nectarine juice’ which contained mainly sugar but also milk and I probably would have thought it was disgusting in normal circumstances but after a hot day is was the sweetest nectar that ever passed my lips. (Excuse the poetry.) And then there was the most incredible sunset, and it reminded me of something I read the other day – the guy was telling a story of trying to woo this girl by making a 6 foot cardboard valentines card and delivering it to her office, and was sort of wondering if all the waterfalls, and sunsets, and deep sea fish with electric lights on their heads, aren’t a little bit like God making us a six foot valentines card in the hope of getting our attention. And that made me happy. Oh and I also saw a man cycling with a dead goat tied to the front of his bike.

That was just part of one day – loads of cool (and some less cool) stuff has happened since then. Current status update would probably be: very very tired, but really excited and loving the way God’s challenging me and encouraging me all at once.

This isn’t the most coherent piece of writing I’ve ever created – but I think I used up my artistry and wordsmithery on the short story I wrote the other day before I left Domasi, so you can have a read of that too if you want!

Empty Pavements

He made his way, hesitantly, and with knees and ankles jarring at every step, along the pavement. It felt alien and hard, as if the stone was jealously protecting its personal space. People stared at him as they walked past, some even stopped to talk about him, pointing and laughing. But not talking to him – it was as if he wasn’t even there. In a way he felt that he wasn’t.

He felt dislocated. Like a shoulder socket wrenched from its place he was floating painfully in a pool of pale fluid. These people were not his people. This ground was not his ground. And the funny thing was that it was spreading. His feet did not feel so much like his feet as they used to; and his thoughts were beginning to scatter and hide as if scared of eviction.

***

He was pounding the street s in breathless sprints – casting his eyes this way and that – desperate but with the patient air of one practiced in desperation. Beads of sweat rolled uninterrupted down the sides of his brow and flew from his jaw, warm brown eyes searching, searching, scanning the cityscape horizon with an intensity that made you long to be the one he was searching for and at the same time made you scared that you might be. He turned another corner.

***

Sure enough he felt lost, but it must be said that he didn’t know it. He caught glimpses in his mind of a memory or a hope, a feeling of welcome, a warmth, almost his own reflection, but whenever he tried to identify it all he could do was watch it flee into some darker corner of his self, scared by the clatter of his feet on the pavement. To walk on ground that is not your own for too long – it is the ache. The ache is nearly unnoticeable and nearly unbearable. A fatigue crept up his limbs and into his body. A loneliness. A dullness.

His heart beat faster.

***

His heart beat faster. His gaze melted into the deep, deep affection of fatherhood. His breaths became longer and less hurried but his steps quickened and grew lighter.

***

A thrill of peace rushed through his body, he could feel blood rushing out around his body as his feet became his once more, his thoughts gathered themselves from the nooks and crannies of his restless mind and assembled into one, overwhelming, gentle lump, one word: found. He had found himself, he had found what he had been looking for – he had realised what he had been looking for! – and he had been found. All at once. Fond memory and cherished hope crashed together like two great opposing waves and his soul was filled to overflowing with liquid peace. Rest. He felt the arms reach around him and gather him up. He felt his feet softly lift away from the alien ground.

***

The shepherd gently placed his sheep across his shoulders and, ignoring the startled looks of the city-dwellers passing on either side, began the long walk home.

Two Contradictory Blogs For The Price Of One

I'm really enjoying the shop names here in Malawi -
here are my top 3 so far besides this one:
3^rd – GOD IS LOVE BARBER SHOP
2^nd – GOD IS WONDERFUL HARDWARE SHOP
And in first place,
the very best example of this
bizarre marriage of theology and marketing
– GOD IS ABLE PHONE CHARGE

We’ve arrived now in Domasi Mission (where we’ll be working for the next seven months) and I don’t really know where to start! The good-news-guilt has subsided and been replaced by simple gratitude for how well looked after we are, and how beautiful the place is – just in case anyone still thinks I’m in any way a hero for coming here, the three of us have a kitchen with microwave/hob/oven/fridge/freezer, lots of working toilets/showers, and this is all in a guest house nearly as big as my house back home, easily capable of housing all 28 volunteers if it needed to. And we’ve got a view of a forest covered mountain. And today we got a lift in the back of the school pickup truck into Zomba[1] to get ourselves various foodstuffs including jelly. This is a good place.

The other big news is that we were introduced to the kids at the secondary school today in their morning prayers. Morning prayers is basically a mini church service that they have every weekday[2] - but the really cool thing is that it is led by the kids! A team of them tell everyone what songs to sing, lead the prayers, read the bible readings, and then one of them does a short talk – and this morning it was really good! Somewhat appropriately it was about confidence in God, and given by a guy called Michael. Can’t go wrong with a Michael. Anyway, I really enjoyed it, the only downside is that it’s difficult to join in with the awesome singing because the songs are in Chichewa! But maybe we’ll learn a few before we go.

And just in general I am really very happy because God has just been so kind in this last week - it still absolutely blows my mind that it’s only been a week since I left. I wrote down a list in my notebook of Good Things God Has Done So Far and it didn’t fit on one page. So many answered prayers, even a couple that seemed impossible, and I just keep marvelling at His creative genius – not just in the landscape of this country but in the other volunteers that I’ve got to be friends with. So, as they say here in Malawi, ‘God is good, all the time.

---

[1] The nearest town, most famous as the birthplace of Latin-American fitness dance classes

[2] At 6:30am!

....OK, so that was the blog I wrote on Thursday evening. I didn’t manage to put it up until now but in the meantime quite a lot of stuff has happened. I got a call from my mate Sam (another volunteer) telling me that he is going to leave his intensely rural placement (we’re talking genuine mud hut) and go somewhere else, and he was wondering if any of the three of us here wanted to swap with him. So obviously I’ve been praying about that a lot, and talking to various wise people, and it’s pretty certain now that I’m going to go. Sam’s now worked out a few ways that he can leave even if I don’t swap with him, so my original hope of him taking a bit more time to try and get settled into his place is not going to materialise – so my choice is basically stay here so that there are four volunteers here and one (Sam’s partner Michael) left out there, or make it three here and two there. And it seems that the primary school in Chimbowe (that’s where the mud hut is) really does need a lot of help. So at the moment it seems pretty clear to me what the right thing to do is.

Obviously it’ll be a fair bit tougher out there but I’m not too worried about that, Michael and Sam tell me it’s an incredibly welcoming and generous community, and a pretty nice mud hut as mud huts go! And even when it is hard, I’m not too worried – genuinely because, as it says above, God is good, all the time (and for that matter, Jesus Never Fails). I heard a quote once from a Christian who was persecuted under communism in the eastern bloc – he said, ‘Christians are like nails, the harder you hit them, the deeper they go.’ So I’m actually pretty excited about what this adventure could do for my faith and my trust in God.

So obviously I would appreciate all your prayers, and please send me emails and things – I have no idea how the signal is out there so I can’t promise I’ll reply any time soon!

Cheers for reading!

MalawiBlog Number Two

I am in Africa.

It’s quite exciting. Very green and stuff. So far though we’ve spent pretty much all of our time in Mabuya Camp training and things with the other volunteers – so I haven’t got vast amounts of exciting things to tell you about the country as yet. But I can confirm that the road from the airport was pretty top notch!

Anyway, I thought I’d share some interesting GAP-YAH psychology with you. I’ve been trying to name it but I can’t quite – I was thinking about ‘greener-grass-syndrome’, but I’m going to go with ‘good-news-guilt’. What I mean by good-news-guilt is that when you find out more about your placement and where you’re staying, good news is bad news. Whenever you hear someone say, ‘Oh, yeah, apparently we have electricity and showers at our placement’, their voice is saturated with the cocktail of guilt and disappointment that comes from talking to a bunch of people who won’t have showers or electricity, and have just been telling you that they’re really glad about that because they didn’t come to Africa for it to be comfortable!

I am not immune to good-news-guilt. It crept up on me over the first 24 hours (we are apparently at the nicest accommodation out of anyone). But then I dragged it out of my subconscious and had a think about it. And really it brings you to the question – why are you here? And I’ve thought about it, and I think the main reason I’m here is because I love the idea of just serving and loving people 24-7. I did a falcon camp a few years ago (a Christian holiday camp for kids who wouldn’t get one otherwise) and I just loved it, because you forget everything else and you get up in the morning and worship Jesus and then all you do for the rest of the day is try to make people happy. It just felt like what being properly alive is all about. And the less boring, non-love-distractions you have to deal with, in my opinion, the better. So I’m hoping this is going to be like a giant version of that – with none of the things that distract me – just loving people and loving God for seven months in the middle of a beautiful beautiful bit of the world. I mean I’m not trying to make you all jealous, but that’s the life, isn’t it?

So, in short, I think it would be fair to describe my outlook as pretty optimistic!

That’s it for now I think – so until next time, if you pray, I’d love it if you could pray for me and the guys I’m doing this with, and if there’s anything anyone would like me to pray for, I would love to do that just drop me a message!

MalawiBlog Number One

Hello.

I did a lot of saying goodbye today so I thought I would do a bit of saying hello, and give everyone a pre-departure update so I get used to how this whole blogging thing is going to work.

So, status update:

I have not yet packed, as the photo will testify. I have been thoroughly equipped by various lovely family members and friends with a veritable cornucopia of miniature items (mini-alarm-clock, mini-torch, mini-speakers, mini-first-aid-kit, mini-sterile-first-aid-kit, mini-guitar...) but this bazaar of bite-sized goodness is, at time of writing, still wherever Mum put it when she took it out of the living room. (For those of you who know my house, that’s the playroom, just in case you were confused, but I didn’t feel comfortable admitting to having a ‘playroom’ in my house at the age of 18 in front of the whole internet.)

All the flat surfaces in my room look a bit like this

Real status update:

 But the state of my room is not what you are really interested in (I hope), it is rather the state of myself. So I will start as I intend to go on by including in these updates my real health in all its forms rather than just the medical and the practical.

So obviously saying goodbye has been quite sad, but in a way I think that’s good news – if I was saying goodbye to everyone I know for seven months and that wasn’t sad, that would make me a very lonely person – so I am glad to have been sad (and will be glad to be sad when I say goodbye to Mum and Dad on Thursday).

But I hope you will be happy to hear that I am not scared. This is not me trying to sound brave and cool – I am very much not brave or cool – because I was scared, I was getting increasingly frightened from Christmas day onwards last week, and I was fairly sure that was justified; it’s a big step to go somewhere like Malawi for such a long time, there is a lot to get ready that really matters, and I don’t really know anyone that will be out there with me. So a little bit of fear is only natural. But then joyfully I was woken early by a phone call from my mate Naffy on Sunday morning and this gave me time to go for a walk down to my favourite tree, and spend a good hour or so talking to God and reading my bible. And nothing spectacular or ‘supernatural’ came over me, but as I spent time with God he really did comfort me. There’s somewhere in the bible that it promises that he will “quiet you with his love” and maybe that’s a fair description. One of the parts of the bible I spent time with was in Jeremiah 17 where Jeremiah says, “Heal me, O LORD, and I shall be healed. Save me and I shall be saved.” And it made me think of a story I heard recently of a girl in Africa whose parents had just been killed by a militia who were rounding up Christians: as they pointed their guns at her they taunted her and asked, “Let your Jesus save you now!” – but she said to them, “My Jesus has already saved me.” And that’s just incredible, and I believe it’s true. And I just thought, faced with that, how can I be afraid of anything – let alone an exciting gap year trip?! And I genuinely ended up shouting “I AM FREE, NOTHING IS SCARY BUT YOU, GOD, AND YOU ARE NOT SCARY!” at a field full of sheep!

So there we go - hopefully I haven’t convinced you all I’m crazy with the very first blog - and hopefully these will be fairly interesting (I think they'll get more interesting when I actually arrive!). Please everyone let me know how you’re getting on while I’m away, and also a special thanks to Andy (Hood) for being a true brother in every sense.

Love, Mike.