If I Could Speak From My Heart . . .

Revival is not something you can really tell someone about. It cannot even be shown to someone. It is something that has to be experienced for oneself. In the same sense, a burden for revival cannot really be explained to someone. As fervently as you may try to put it into words, it cannot really be expressed to its fullness. The only way to truly express a burden for revival is by crying out to a Holy God in prayer. He most certainly understands. He is the one who placed the burden in your heart.

The last couple of weeks here in Vanuatu, my burden has seemed to heighten. It is as if I cannot rest fully at night. I cannot think clearly during the day. My heart is crying out to my mind the desperate need for revival in this place.

I have felt the Spirit of God in the services. I have also grieved at the lack of tarrying in the altars. I ask myself, “Have they ever really experienced revival?” or “Do they even know how to seek for it?” My husband was kind enough to remind me of the Topeka, Kansas revival and how those young people had not experienced it, and yet sought for it.

A new thought entered my mind. Every year since I can remember, I have had an oasis. Be it Straight Paths Youth Camp as a girl, or OBI’s Convocation in later years, there has always been a place where I knew men and women of God were seeking for revival. In these times, I knew that if I could just get to those meetings then maybe, just maybe, I could glean from their experience and walk away with an experience of my own. Although I always prayed for these meetings, I knew that men and women of God far superior in dedication than I had paid the price through tears and time on their knees for me and others like me to experience revival.

These were men and women with a burden and a passion for my soul. How much I owe them!
Now God has called me to the ministry, more specifically, to the country of Vanuatu. I am in a place where I cannot pray for a people to experience revival once again, because I don’t know if they have or have not really experienced it the first time.

So here I am without my usual oasis. If I am to experience revival this year, I will have to find it on my own, without the camps or convocations. However, it is not enough for me alone to experience personal revival. I long, I crave - there is not a word to even describe the way I desire to see the Ni Van people captured by the presence of the Almighty God.

In all of this, I realize how many missionaries have spent a lifetime in one place and never had the opportunity to see revival in their country. It may not be during this two year term that I see God move in the way I so desire. But it is it with great rejoicing I can say, I know that the God I serve is able!

God is not bound by man, so I ask God: “If it is possible, let me see your Spirit fall here in a way that, not only they have never seen, but in a way we have never seen. For truly we are all in need of revival, and if you should wait to pour out your Spirit in this place when I am no longer here, I still want to thank you in advance, for You are the One who gives the increase, and You are the only One who can do the work in the hearts of your people. I ask that we never be afraid to ask for a mighty move from You, because I know it is but a small thing for You to do. I thank You for bringing me here, and ask that I may be a light to some hurting soul today. It is in Your name I ask this, Jesus. Amen.

Jennifer

Earthquake Update

Well, this is the quickest re-post ever for this blog!! I just Skyped with Nathan and Jen. They're fine. This earthquake definitely woke them up, though!!

Trica

Earthquake In Vanuatu

A 7.8 magnitude earthquake struck Vanuatu early this morning, somewhere around 4:00 am local time.

We haven't heard from Nate & Jen, but are assuming their Internet was knocked out. They slept through the 5.2 magnitude earthquake that hit a few months back.

Keep them in your prayers!

Trica

Communication - More Than Just Words

Vinmavis

It has been over three weeks now since Jen and I came back from this wonderful little village by the sea. Still, I think back with joy of the friends we made and times we shared with them. I will never forget the time we spent there.

When we first arrived, I was a little nervous about being out on our own in a foreign country. Although we had learned to speak the language enough to understand what was going on around us, we still weren’t fluent by any stretch of the imagination. Then to make things more interesting, the people of Vinmavis have a local language that they tend to lapse into with ease, forgetting that we barely even speak Bislama! There were stretches of conversation that I could not even begin to understand as they switched from Bislama to the local language and then back again. They didn’t do it to be rude; they were just so comfortable switching from one to the other that sometimes they would do it without thinking. When they saw the puzzled looks on our faces, they would smile and repeat it in Bislama. In the end, Jen and I made a good team. Many times when I could not understand what was being said I would give Jen a glance and she would be able to translate and then there were times when I could do the same for her. I think we weathered the storm quite well as far as language is concerned and may have even gained some ground.

One of the defining moments in the trip happened on the first Wednesday we were there. It may not sound earth shattering or awe inspiring, but it left its mark on me. On Wednesday’s, I was given the opportunity to teach a P.E. class. The school possessed very little in the way of sports equipment and what they did have was on its last leg. So I had to come up with some games that required no equipment. I was a bit nervous at first, not knowing what kinds of games they generally played. In the end I taught them Flying Dutchman (a game we used to play at youth parties back home) and Freeze Tag. I was hoping that they would find these games at least acceptable. They did not. They loved them! As soon as they got the hang of both games, they threw themselves into them with abandon. I wish you could hear the children and even the teachers laughing as they ran around the Green. Once the games were learned, I was transported to a new dimension of language. There were no words just the game. We could understand each other and enjoy each others company for that space of time and not worry about the awkwardness of verbal communication. We were players, each of us. The rules were known and nothing else mattered. I ran around with them until my feet hurt and actually bled a little. That will teach me to run around like a madman with no shoes on!

It was in this moment that I realized that language was so much more than words. It was a living, breathing experience just waiting to be shared. We communicated with the students of Jehova Nissi School that day. We told them that we wanted to be friends and that we were there to take part in their lives, and they, in return, opened there hearts and told us we were welcome.

Nathan

Diary of A Missionary's Wife Part 1

The following are entries from my diary while we were in Malakula -


April 12

"On the way there, the driver, Ronnie Tony, stopped to get us some fruit. He cracked it against the tree trunk and it turned out to be cocoa beans inside. We sucked the slimy juice off each bean and threw it out the window. It was divine!! It tasted like nature's Jolly Rancher. I asked the driver if a tree would grow where we threw the seed and he said it would. I teased him that I was planting and it sure was hard work. He thought that was funny."



April 13

"I spent most of the day in the preschool with Betty, the teacher. The children were so cute, but, of course, a bit shy with this funny looking white woman watching them say their ABC's.

Later on, Nathan and I went by ourselves to tour the village. We passed Betty, along with several other women, making mats. They insisted I learn, but I was embarrassed at how slowly I braided the dried leaves.

After we finished working on the mats, Betty took Nathan and I proudly showed off her village. From the plant they use as a sponge to scrub their dirty dishes (pictured below), to the complete process of how they dry and roast cocoa beans to sale."

Gone To Malakula

Nathan & Jennifer will be in Malakula (another island in the island chain that is Vanuatu) for two weeks, so there will be no new posts until they return. Hopefully, by the time they return, the computer cord I sent last week will be there and they will be back in business. Keep them in your prayers!!

Trica

My Ni Van Friend

Her name is Harriett. She is tiny in stature, but has a smile that can quickly light a room. She is not loud or boisterous. She has kind eyes and a friendliness that does not hesitate to reach out.
She is the closest Christian neighbor we will have when we move into our house that is being build on the school campus. I liked her instantly and secretly hoped that we would become friends.

A couple days ago, Nathan and I went out to the land to start digging our septic system. Some men had volunteered and Harriet had come with her husband. I was beside myself that she had come and there was nothing for us to do. There were not enough shovels to go around.

We left the dirty work to the men and walked through the garden where she pointed out to me the tarro, and kamala which she said were Vanuatu's potato. I proudly told her I had already been cooking kamala and was delighted with the taste. We walked and talked and I began to feel as if I were back home again, spending time with a close friend! We chatted about normal things like cleaning up after our husbands, how many siblings we have, the children she has and the children I plan to have. We were talking for twenty minutes at a time, with me hardly realizing we were conversing in Bislama, until inevitably a sentence would come to mind that I couldn't figure out how to say.

This went on for a while, and just when I began to feel as if I were back home, it was time to make lunch for the men. We gathered wood and I watched the unique way the Ni Van women start a fire, then throw whole bananas on the open flame.

To her, we were the same - just two women sharing our pasts and our dreams for the future. It was a good moment for me. In a world where I can sometimes feel so different, I realized that we are really all the same. We all have hopes, fears, pain and joy. We were two sisters in Christ just sharing precious fellowship.

Later, when I was sharing my experience with Bryan Webb, he informed me that her marriage was arranged. She was purchased by the Visitation Pastor at Pastor Dick's church. Her husband prayed her through to salvation on their honeymoon night and she received the Holy Spirit the next week. Bryan went on to say that he has never seen anything but good Christian character in her. She and her husband still walk around like newly webs, very much in love.

In a culture so very different than mine, I am glad to have found a friend. She has offered to teach me to cook Vanuatu style and while I doubt Nathan and I will ever cook it in our own home, I am honored to spend time learning along side this beautiful little Godly woman. I am so thankful God sent me a friend and I look forward to many more 'girl' talks.

Jennifer