Home For Christmas!

Note: this post was written by Jennifer before Christmas. Due to my somewhat hectic schedule and my very poor memory, it was not edited until now. Sorry for the delay!

Trica

The chill is in the air. The aroma of baked goods, burning candles, and pine cones tickle at our noses. This year we can honestly sing “I’ll Be Home For Christmas.” With only six weeks to go until the arrival of our first born we have more than our share to be thankful for this Christmas season. It is a gift - God’s gift to us - this precious time with family and friends.

Even amongst the hustle and bustle that is the American holiday season, sometimes I close my eyes and feel the humid ocean breeze and hear the distant laughter of the Ni- Vanuatu children. There is really no place to be alone when you live on an island, and in the South Pacific it seems as if the children outnumber the adults by far. My mind is drawn to our students, the names and faces I came to know and love. What are they doing this Christmas?

I remember last year hearing about how one American charity sent shoe boxes full of toys for boys and girls, and the precious locals and missionaries who carried them over the rough terrain of Malakula, through mud and sea to take these gifts to the children of one village. I remember sitting on the edge of my seat as they described how the little faces lit up at the excitement of seeing their first toy (excluding their homemade toys from sticks and banana leaves). I have been in these villages. I remember how content the children were with just the ocean and trees and as I try to imagine them with crayons and dolls, it makes me smile.

I love everything about America but mostly my family and friends. I love being able to actually touch my Mother and feel her arms around me, something I often feared I would never know again while living in Vanuatu. I love the feel of carpet under my toes opposed to concrete floors. I love sinking down into a big bath tub instead of trying to see how much of me can fit into an old plastic wash tub while my husband brings the pans of hot water from the stove for me. I love a home without bugs and rats. If anything, I have learned to appreciate the land of my birth in a way I never knew was possible.

While there are many things I am thankful God is allowing me to experience while home in the U.S., I realize this time is His gift to me. You see, I am called of God. I know what I am meant to do. There is no turning back, no letting up. I promised the Lord my life, not a portion of it, and until He leads otherwise I will continue to give my all to follow, even unto the “ends of the earth.” His still small voice continues to stir my heart and I am still saying, “Yes, Lord. I will give you all.”

Nathan and I are in a period of transition. We are pursuing missions with the full intention of returning to Vanuatu. While Bryan and Renee Webb were gracious enough to allow us to do the work God placed on our hearts, we were missionary assistants, meaning our primary purpose was to “assist” the Webb family in their ministry. We are thankful that while working under the Webb family, they allowed us to cultivate our own specific calling geared towards the spiritual and academic education of children. Our next step, however, is pursuing missions full-time, which is a separate process in itself. We are currently in the process of applying for Nathan’s credentials with the Assemblies of God, one of several requirements before being approved as missionary candidates. We appreciate your prayers and support as we pursue the calling of God on our lives and look forward to sharing more about our passion with some of you as the Lord allows us to visit at your home churches.

Jen

Two Sides To Every Coin - Part Two (The Positive)

When I think of where life could have taken me and where I am now, I am forced to fight back tears. God’s grace has given me the life of my dreams! I am not speaking of a fancy house, a sports car, or trips around the world (although travel comes with the territory). I am talking about the overwhelming desire I have had since childhood to work for God, to make a difference, to be where He wanted me.

Simple dreams for some, but for me, they are the desires God has placed in my heart. There is no army of debaters who could convince me that a life more fulfilling exists elsewhere! There is no joy in life above fulfilling God’s purpose.

Now, I am not saying the work is finished, nor am I saying it is easy living here. What I am saying is this: We were all created for a purpose bigger than ourselves, and at the end of the day, what is done for Christ matters most.

It occurred to me recently, while reminiscing over the testimony shared by a fellow missionary to Africa at a Christmas banquet just weeks before we left the United States, just how blessed I am. I recall the tears she fought back as she told of the civil wars fought in the streets and of their dear pastor friend who was beheaded for all to see while trying to help others. Now I realize just how easy I have it.

Where we are, there is a constant stream of smiles on the faces. They are content to work their gardens. This country is known as one of the least violent places in the South Pacific. Yes, for the most part, they are uneducated by American standards. However, I’d find it interesting to see any American live off of their land as they do here, carry the work load they have here and survive on only pennies of income.

As I teach, I learn. I learn about their way of life. While I teach them to add numbers, I learn something new about surviving in the jungle. As I teach them the ABC’s, I learn how unmistakably free it is to laugh! As they listen to a new Bible story, I learn something about giving from a mother of three, and is also raising two relatives, who sends produce from her garden to us, the teachers. I learn about what humanity actually needs to survive, versus what our cultures teach us we need. I am their constant student and so far I have learned to love 23 kids who are not my own!

Today is Sunday and tomorrow we will start a new school week. I am thinking of Roger, who refused to look at us the first week of school, could not write his ABC’s and had given up on ever learning to read as he approached thirteen years of age. I am excited, anticipating his smile tomorrow. He is on the brink of reading, and although once considered one of my roughest students, he now tries to lead all the other boys in not giving Ticha (teacher) a hard time!

I think of Meliane, sixteen, sometimes playful and a bit of a cut-up. I remember her telling me she wanted to change her life for the better and asked if she could use my Bible to read on her breaks. She has a little notebook that is falling apart and it appears she is trying to copy my entire Bible into it!

I think of Doriane, who at fifteen, is so bright and always wants to be the first to recite her monthly Scripture.

Then there’s Patrick, who is 12. At first he had anger problems when he got an answer wrong. He just got a 100% on is latest test and is so excited about having more merits (good points) than the rest of the class!

I could go on and on in detail, but these are my positives! They are not just faces on some magazine asking me to send money. These are my kids! I am so proud of them and in tears, daily, I thank God I am not working my life away to buy something that will fade to dust, but am working my life away to invest in the hearts and souls of the beautiful children of Vanuatu. That is all the “positive” I need!

Jen

Mission Accomplished!

I’m sorry I have not been in contact lately. I have been missing everyone so much it hurts, but we have been so busy and when we get to town we have a thousand things to do. I am hoping that things will stabilize here soon and I can get a regular rhythm going again.

We just made it through our first week of school! It was only three and a half days but it nearly killed us! The teaching went fine but getting the kids used to a schedule is a hard thing. I have ten Kindergarten students, ages 5 - 13 and Jen has four upper-grade students, ranging from first to fifth grades. We are trying to fast track the older Kindergarten students into Jen’s class, but we will have to wait and see how that goes.

Language has not really been a problem until I try talking to some of my younger students. One little boy, Kiki, is the cutest little guy, but I cannot understand a word that comes out of that kid's mouth! Jen and I have been getting a lot of Bislama practice lately trying to teach these kids English. Funny, how it works that way.

This first week of school has been so rewarding, seeing these little kids writing letters and sounding them out, something they couldn’t do last week. It has been so much fun teaching them and watching how each personality deals with the new information. Seeing their individual talents come out in different areas has also been great. I am discovering artists, leaders, and future criminal masterminds! (Haha). Pray that we will touch each life that is entrusted to us during this time.

Here are a few more pics:

Registration Day:

Since we don't have any sports equipment yet, here I'm teaching them to play Freeze Tag during PE time.

First day of school:

Jen with a student:

Flowers for the teacher:

Cleaning up and getting ready for the next day:

In local news, the American, Australian, and New Zealand military are here in force. They are working on humanitarian projects around the island. It is so great to see so many American faces! We have already met a military doctor from Texas and it was so good to talk to someone from home. They will be here for the next couple of months.

I’m sorry, again, that I have not been in better contact. I promise that I do try! I had better go for now since there is a line waiting for this computer here at the Internet cafe.

Nathan

Two Sides To Every Coin - Part One (The Negative Side)

If I may, I’d like to share with you a small glimpse into my life on the mission field - the everyday side of it.

While this may shock some of you, there are those who are inclined to believe "you two are on a two year vacation" or "you’re on the world’s longest honeymoon." I sometimes have the daydream of all 5’ 5 ½” and 120 pounds of me flying across the room and pouncing on those guilty of such beliefs, usually followed by a prayer of repentance for thinking such thoughts. So, for this crowd I will try to help you visualize some negative aspects of living here:

I walk across the cool concrete floor of my house. The day is so hot I am tempted to lie down and join our dog on the cool slab! But one look at my previously manicured feet, now stained with dirt from walking through the deep mud we call a yard during rainy season and the general dirtiness that accompanies living in a third world country, and I decide against it. I would really like to look nice for my husband today, but with no electricity, his favorite hair style for me is a “no-go”, so I choose two simple braids. I would like to wear something nice, but I know even if I walk softly, my steps will kick mud up on the back of my clothes.

One of the things I look forward to most about returning to the US is washed and dried clothes with dryer sheets and all! Here, with hand washing, it is impossible to get all the soap out of the fabric and after drying in the strong Vanuatu sun, they are so stiff you have to wear them a few hours before they finally get drenched with your sweat and loosen up. We are supposed to be going into our winter, but the last few days have been pushing 100 degrees.

We tried to go to town, but the truck we’re using overheated so many times that we spent most of the day on the side of the road instead of picking up school supplies. When we returned, it was dark. I opened our bedroom door and heard a hissing sound as a six inch venomous centipede charged me! Later, two more fell from the Natangora roof before we had the chance to get under our mosquito netting.

Since we have no electricity, we occasionally use a generator to charge our computer which holds pictures of our families, but with gas costing over $7 a liter that is a treat! So I gather all the pictures of my family I have around the house, carry them to bed with me and then cry myself to sleep. It is a restless night because of the unidentifiable black bugs that get through the netting. I have lost it a time or two with these little insects! I don’t understand how Nathan sleeps through them. I have seen them on him and killed them without him even waking up!

We both wake up at dawn. Our dog is going crazy because a couple men from the local village are here to see Nathan and she thinks they are after her pups. They are here to borrow a tool. They have probably been up since half past four and find us “white people” a bit lazy for sleeping until daylight!

And then there are the times we have been desperate for a competent doctor. Or, we have wished as we approach our thirties, that we could be doing the work here and building towards a secure future in the US at the same time. But, I guess we are just irresponsible enough to be laying in the lap of luxury here on our extended honeymoon!! :)

I can’t wait to get back to the internet store and hopefully message with my family. The last two times I went to town none of them were online. On the way, we see the ocean. It is so beautiful! It has been months since we have gone to the beach and even if we did have the time, we couldn’t waste the gas money. Finally, we get on the Internet. Mom’s not on. Dad’s not on. No one. Just a letter from someone saying they hope we are enjoying our two year vacation!

Disclaimer: This story is a combination of events that have taken place over the past few weeks. So, don’t worry, Mom. I’m not crying myself to sleep every night!

Jennifer

Culture Over Coffee

Nathan and I recently met our very first independent Ni Van woman. While on a date having coffee in a nice restaurant, we met Odie. Small in stature, but big in ideas, she began explaining the things she found “unfair” in her culture. She, being an independent self-supported woman, found the lack of opportunity for a woman to excel in her home country very disappointing. We, however, loved getting an educated look into some of Vanuatu's cultural taboos that we did not fully understand.

In Vanuatu, you often find men walking in front of a woman. Men do not walk beside, but in front. Men do not open doors for women, but rather, go in first, followed by the woman. This is not what we would consider a “gentleman” in the U.S. However, all this begin to make a little more sense when Odie explained what the "old fella’s" (elders) of her village explained to her.

A Ni Van man walks in front of his woman as a means of protection. He is saying “this is my woman,” not in the sense that he owns her, but in the sense that he is letting all other men, or anyone who wishes to harm her, know they must go through him first. Now, seeing it from this new light, imagine what they must think of the white men when they, in their gentlemanly manner, allow “ladies first!” In this culture, they are saying “I am going to hide behind you. You protect yourself and me!" Ha!

We probably discussed these things for over an hour. Everything from why a woman cannot enter a Nakanmal (men’s meeting house), to why the woman belonged at home. While I am still not keen on the fact that men are the preferred sex, and women are terribly disappointed to find they have given birth to a girl, (I have also seen this in America), or the fact that the woman following the man is often carrying a heaping pile of fire wood on her back while the man is carrying nothing, I can say I do see SOME reasoning behind SOME of their methods.

For instance, the same "old fella" also explained how in times past, when the woman was not allowed to leave the home without her husband, sex crimes were almost unheard of in their village. Now, Odie explains, she is afraid to walk home after her shift as a waitress is over.

So I guess not all of our westernized cultural ideas have been an improvement. But I am still waiting to find out their reasoning behind cannibalism and I am thinking if I begin to see reason behind this particular previous cultural practice, it might be time for us to come home!

Jennifer

Sacrifice

I am sitting at my kitchen table in my little bush house. With the exception of a small place cleared for the yard, I am surrounded by jungle. Beautiful and peaceful, aside from the occasional screaming bats or distant ship horns.



This morning I am thinking about sacrifice. Not my own, but of those who I know lost a part of themselves when I left. First there is my father, who in spite of the fact he does not share my religious views (and always lets me know he wishes I were closer), has never tried to stop me from pursuing my passion for missions. He has always had a word of encouragement for me and in all my 26 years has never offered anything but love and support.



Then there is my Mother, who also calls me her best friend. No doubt, thoughts of her future grandchildren, baby girl and son-in-law all on the other side of the world are hard for her. Often, it is through tears, yet all she can say is how proud she is that I have decided to follow God with my life. I can only imagine the pain of giving a child to God and am thankful for her support.



I remember my step-dad, Tommy, is the one who kept my car running through college. I laugh now remembering that old Honda Accord that started running hot practically the first day I got it. I remember, many times, wanting to go out with friends or needing funding for a class project and finding money that had not been there before appear in my account. Later, Mom would tell me, after much questioning, they had cut something they needed because Tommy wanted to see me through Bible College. I appreciate his love and sacrifice.



He was 15 when I left, now he has a job, a car, and will turn 17 in a few months. My little (just over six foot) brother Colton. This is where my heart strings draw. He is going through all the normal teenage stuff and his big sister is on the other side of the world helping Ni-Van children. I remember heart to hearts on the trampoline with him, and pray God sends someone to him since He has sent me to this nation.

There are too many to name. My sweet Granny, who is the only one allowed to call me Jenny. All my uncles and aunts who invested so much into my life and then let me go. My father-in-law and mother-in-law, who have been so supportive and without which this transition would have been so much harder. So to all of you I say "thank you for your sacrifice."

One more thought. The scripture says “how can they go except they be sent.” So many times we use this in the financial sense. While it is true that it does take finances to do missions work, the cost of sending reaches far beyond money. I know the hearts of mine and Nathan’s family truly know the cost of missions. Once again, thank you for your sacrifice!

Jennifer

Nate & Jen's House - Exterior

I previously posted pictures of the inside of the house where Nate & Jen are living. Here are a couple shots of the exterior of the house.

Eventually, as they can afford it, the front porch will be screened in and will extend their living area. During the hot summer months, with no air conditioning, it will be a protected outdoor area to catch a breeze, hopefully!




As you can see, the roof is tin. It is also where they get their water! Rainwater is collected in the rain barrel, then pumped up to their holding tank. Then it is gravity-fed into the house. There is no water heater.




The stove and frig both run on propane. They have a small solar panel that runs the pump and also provides a little electricity for their needs.

Trica