Longevity in Ministry ~ Passionately Committed to Marriage and Family

"Like longevity in life, some basic things are needed -

right genes [to be a child of God], right diet [God's Word],

right exercise [involvement in ministry]

and right environment [a place in God's community - the Church].

The Apostle Paul set it as his goal to walk worthy and finish well. So should we!"

Yet what does the practical outworking of this look like in real life and ministry? How do expats working, ministering and seeking to be Christ’s  “…witnesses… [in] Samaria, and even to the remotest part of the earth" (Acts 1.8, NASB) sustain long and productive careers?

Based off of a sermon by my home church pastor and subsequent study, I’ve identified seven essential priorities that help protect those in ministry, particularly cross-cultural ministry, from burnout and the temptation to sin... ones that direct and give hope for the future... ones that remind that all is grace and a gift from God… ones that will hopefully allow us serve well for exactly the time God has chosen for us…

Those priorities are:

1. Continuously and consistently seeking the Lord
2. Praying without ceasing
3. Balancing personal growth, rest and ministry
4. Welcoming accountability
5. Committing to marriage and family
6. Choosing to be teachable, even in difficult circumstances; and
7. Determining to be a genuine team player.

This post is looking at priority number five – committing to marriage and family.

Let me start off by saying that I do not believe there is one hard and fast way to do this… this commitment thing. How I demonstrate my commitment to my marriage and family might look quite different than how you do. Key is that 1) an intentional, purposeful choice to first made - choosing commitment, 2) a continuous effort is made - working on commitment, and 3) a covenant relationship is kept, clinging to commitment… regardless.

Regardless of the difficulties.

Regardless of the inconveniences.

Regardless of the words and opinions of others…

So what do I mean by commitment to family, in a biblical sense, if you will? I wasn’t exactly sure. It is something we talk about, casually throwing into edifying conversation – but what does God say commitment looks like? To try and find out, I searched both commit and commitment in an online concordance.

First, there are verses like “Commit your way to the LORD; trust in him, and he will act” (Psalm 37.5 ESV), and “Commit your work to the LORD, and your plans will be established” (Proverbs 16.5 ESV). These verses remind that God has chosen to work through us, but He doesn’t need us to accomplish His plans. Believing and living according to this principle frees us to also minister inside our homes. Yes, we work and work intensely – but our work… our ministry… is no excuse to ignore (at one extreme) or slack off even a little bit (at the other extreme) at working on those family relationships and dynamics.

“Are you pledged to a woman? Do not seek to be released. Are you free from such a commitment? Do not look for a wife” (1 Corinthians 7.27) speaks of marriage as a being bound… a binding, knitting, tying and winding together of a man and a woman that should remain.  That means I support my husband in the ministry opportunities God gives him; he also supports me, giving me opportunity to serve and work, using the talents and abilities with which God has graced me. It isn't 50/50. It is 100/100.Today, what did that look like for us? Less than a week after moving (and after an extended furlough/home assignment), he’s itching to dive into a new ministry. So I continue lugging boxes, unpacking suitcases, trying to fit our family into our new (and beautiful) home while trying to keep six kids (who’ve gone from friend-overload to all-alone-in-a-new-city-with-nothing-but-siblings-overload) at least moderately content and engaged all day. After his long day and taking apart a desk that we needed to squeeze down into the basement, he’s now taken all of the kids out and about, exploring our new city, but also giving me the time to put my notes and this post together.  In Matthew 19, Jesus speaks of the marriage commitment – marriage is something God has put together and that men should not seek to separate. Our ministries, at least for this moment, are separate – but we need each other to do them well… sometimes to do them at all. Working together to help each other accomplish individual goals, works to further unite us.

Just a few verses later in Matthew 19, the disciples are rebuked for hindering the little children; in the previous chapter (and additionally in both Mark and Luke), a direly strong warning is given to any who would cause a little one (usually thought to mean a child) to stumble. Consider the list of qualifications given for “overseers” – above reproach in personal life, public life but also family life – husband of one wife, family managed well, obedient children, and mutual respect (i.e. by parents, spouses and children) demonstrated in the home (1 Timothy 3).  Although not all missionaries are “overseers” in a biblical sense of the word, there is no doubt that we are often seen as such and considered ones among the people to whom we minister. Regardless of our ministry, our actions and choices should not cause our children to "stumble" and turn away from God. They must always feel confident that their parents consider them more important than "the work."

A few other passages (I’m sure there are many others, but this study was never intended to be exhaustive – especially as we are smack dab in the middle of transitioning to a new field of ministry and I sit typing surrounded by boxes and piles of clothes and disassembled furniture…) seem relevant. First, at the end of the book of Joshua, Joshua instructs the Israelites to make a choice… and then sets the example:  “…as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD." To serve and minister as a family is the model we’ve been given. No one should try and carbon-copy my family’s “style” of service… those dated machines have no relevance today anyway. But do adapt principles and incorporate ideas, commit to making them work in your family and in your situation – not to make them look just like some other family that appears to have it all together.  And frankly, even in our family, what worked before is no longer feasible. Opportunities change, ministries ebb and flow. Our goal should be to focus on the intentional choice to serve as a family, each one doing his/her part.

One passage I never fail to find inspiring and convicting when it comes to our commitment to our tck children: “The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments… are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.” (Deuteronomy 6.4b-8). We learn to better disciple others as we take time and practice discipling our children… To serve as a family, we need to be taking these Old Testament words to heart.

Second Kings 19 contains a pretty amazing account – although it was a particular phrase that first caught my eye. Hezekiah is king and the Assyrians are after his people. It is God who miraculously delivers Jerusalem from annihilation. There’s also a prophecy given… what will be accomplished by and because of God’s zeal for His people. One translation renders that word zeal as passionate commitment. That was the phrase that grabbed my attention.

Passionate commitment for His people.

A commitment motivated by strong feeling, affection and belonging.

A choice motivated by selfless love and protection.

An intention of working for the absolute, very best for another.

God is zealous for His people. 

I believe He wants us to feel the same - and not just about ministries or other peoples and cultures. He wants us to have a passionate commitment to our marriages, our children… our family. 

Just as Hezekiah recognized He couldn’t protect or save his people, we must understand that it is highly likely our spouses, our children, our families WILL suffer at times because we’ve chosen to serve the Lord in cross-cultural ministry. Like Hezekiah, when we recognize and accept this reality, we are open to seeing our lives, our families, our situations for what they really are. We can see our abilities, but also our "helplessnesses." Then, like Hezekiah, we need to humbly seek the Lord and rest always aware of His continuous, sustaining grace, active and available. He wants the best for our spouse, for our children... even more than we do. Like Hezekiah, we need to seek the Lord and seek out guidance from His Word when it comes to finding those always changing balances between ministry within and without the confines of home. And last, but not least, like Hezekiah, we need to remember that our hope for our families and for our ministries lies in the Lord.

I’ve purposely not given a whole lot of “this is what it looks like in our lives and ministries” to describe "commitment to marriage and family" which is such a critical priority for longevity in cross-cultural ministry. But I do hope that some of these principles will be of help as you seek to discern what said commitment will look like for you in your place of ministry.

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Series: Longevity in Ministry

• Just Think About a Horseshoe (26 July2014)
• Trusting in the Sufficiency and Sovereignty of God (9 August 2014)
• If you don't want to shorten your ministry... obediently abide (23 August 2014)
• The essentials? Or merely superfluous? (13 September 2014)
• Habituate yourself? (27 September 2014)
• One Priority that can Never be in Excess (11 October 2014)
• Of rest and rescue (23 October 2014)
• Dare to Disclose (8 November 2014)
• “Hope is the only thing stronger than fear” (27 November 2014)
• "Hoping to resume an abandoned but not forgotten study" (13 June 2015)

To listen to the actual sermon "Start, Run and Finish Well," click here.

On Finishing Well

Over the summer my family traveled back to the US for home assignment. As most of you missionary moms know, home assignment (furlough, or whatever else you call it!) is never easy, especially with little ones. You may find yourselves always on the go, re-teaching your kids every time you travel what they can and can't touch in the places you're staying, meeting people all the time... I guess I don't need to describe it to you. :)

As with most things in life, we tend to start our home assignments strong. We may not be thrilled about the road ahead, but we do our best to do a good job and glorify God while doing it. We were only on home assignment for 2 months (9 weeks to be exact), but by the end of our trip, I was ready to check out and go home! This introvert had seen my share of friends and family members. I was tired and
wanting longing for our own space again.

So naturally, I wanted to check out.

But God doesn't want us to do that. He wants us to finish our race well. Whether we're finishing our time on home assignment or finishing our time on the field, he wants us to glorify him and finish well.

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified. 1 Corinthians 9:24-27 (ESV)

Finishing well isn't always easy. We're tired. We want to go home. I found that God gives us strength to finish if we ask him. It's easier said than done, but trusting in God through those last couple of weeks and days can make all the difference. It just takes a few days of constantly coming before him, seeking his grace and strength.

So dear friend, "May you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy..." (Colossians 1:11) and may you finish well!

How have you found strength in God to finish well?

8 kids, at least 10 carryons (probably more), 20 suitcases, 1 stroller and a pile of paperwork

...and if our oldest daughter gets her way, at least one czar-ish black cat.

I don't think that's gonna happen.

Hopefully I won't misplace the husband or the grandparents in all of the craziness.

...or the passports or the residence permits or the plane tickets.

Speaking of plane tickets, did you know we qualify for group rates when we travel (although it isn't always the best deal), we often dress in uniform... or at least something somewhat matching so I can quickly scan - count to ten and identify my group, and it can easily take us several vehicles to get to the airport and over an hour just to get through security, regardless of the locale.

We are really only just shy of being our very own traveling circus. I dislike (a gross understatement) that part.

How can you be excitedly anticipating climbing the steps and finding that letter-numbered, uncomfortably small seat while at the same time dreading it so very much? 

These last few weeks are turning out to be doozies.

Even with all my carefully laid plans and preparations, surprises have happened, are happening... and at this rate, a few more will probably happen. More gets added to my list more quickly than I can check it off. People have expectations of me that will be impossible for me to meet... or they accuse me of being self-absorbed and not genuine. Electric and internet cuts make it next to impossible to keep up with the regularly scheduled stuff. Then there's the tense political climate and current events restricting travel and limiting opportunities... city wide lock down today interfered and rendered impossible a last Sunday of worship with our local brothers and sisters and some goodbyes that just will not be able to be said. (If you are curious about all that sort of stuff, type my country/city of service into a search engine... we've been making international news repeatedly this week.) Those things are just the tip of the iceberg. So, in that sense, I can't wait to get outta here and leave some of those stresses behind.

That doesn't change the fact that goodbyes are hard.

But what do you do when circumstances force you to abort those goodbyes?

I guess that's where it all comes down to trust while riding the roller coaster of emotions that are part and parcel of this transition:

• that God will make beautiful things out of the dust as it settles;
• that God's grace will suffice even where my efforts don't;
• that His mercies will renew morning after morning after morning, just as He promises;
• that what man thinks isn't nearly so important as God's assessment of my heart and actions;
• that God knows His plans even when I'm not sure of my own next step... that He is about the business of doing great and mighty things beyond my imagination;
• that I'm neither as important as I think nor as unimportant as I feel;

and perhaps most importantly,

• with Him, all things are possible.

We'll be traveling... soon... 

... some moments, it isn't soon enough and others it is way too soon!

But I can't wait to see what God has for me and my family as we enter into this next phase of our adventure with Him.

What conflicting emotions do you have about your current situation or place?

What words help reassure and comfort you in those difficult moments?

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I'm taking a break from posting for a few months. Many of you who comment or who are a regular part of this community will be in my prayers over these next few months. I look forward, Lord willing, to join up with you again towards the end of summer! Thanks for journeying with me these past few months.

Other posts in this series of preparing to leave the field:

In which I'm charged by a hippo...
Jumping the Gun? Or Procrastination?
Turning over that TCK leaf
Three months AND three days AND counting...
Going Fishing...
An "infamous" word - at least for me
Conquering nightmares with dreams
The Hounds of Hoarding
pancakes... WITH butter...
8 kids, at least 10 carryons (probably more)

pancakes... WITH butter...

It was one of those things I gave up when we first came to Niger.  

Not the fresh-off-the-griddle-hot stack of fluffy pancakes.

Not the drizzled syrup.

(Sometimes, we even have friends walking off tarmacs bearing gifts of real maple...)

But the butter...

There were lots of reasons. Butter was... even more so now... expensive back then, and?

Not always available. 

So I just stopped eating it and then never started using butter on my pancakes again, even when we were back home in the States.

At least not until just recently. 

I'd forgotten just how delightful syrupy AND buttery pancakes could be.

So what does this have to do with anything? 

Three weeks until my family boards a plane that will take us away from Niger for at least the next year... maybe longer. My oldest graduates from high school - and knows he may never be back. And really, no one knows what the next day may hold, so that reality could be true for all of us.

We've done (or are in the midst of doing) the giving away, the selling, the distributing, the packing, the planning, the ticket buying, the scheduling... all of the preparing to be ready to leave. The freezer and pantry are mostly empty; we really are down to not much more than those things we'll take with us in our suitcases. There are a few books to return to the library, and two community garage sales to sell the remaining small stuff. Our three cats need homes, but even the rest of animal menagerie is spoken for. 

All that lingers is winding things up, purchasing a sufficient supply of malaria medications just in case, and remembering to "slather our remaining stack of days with butter." 

Sometimes missionaries play the martyr. After all, living in a place like this place should earn some brownie points, right? I can easily choose to focus on the dirt and poverty all around, all of the unavailable impossibles here, the myriad of possibilities back home laid aside and left behind, every one a carefully counted and mind-recorded sacrifice made. But often times, these thoughts about the cost of following Jesus evolve into habit and are no longer passionate, intentional, and worthy choices. Rather, they are just like the unbuttered pancakes that flipped into my life as the new normal.

Sacrifice is real. It is hard. But it is also true for anyone... no, for EVERYONE... who follows the Lord whenever and wherever that or they may be. Jesus warns those who follow Him to count the cost. International faith workers, however, often  relish in letting everyone know just how significant of a price they've paid... that they've spent the last however many years sacrificing, stacking and eating pancakes minus the butter all for the sake of Jesus, obedience and a worthy cause. They somehow get this idea that adding the voluntary doing without makes their sacrifice and service more worthy and impressive 

In that sacrificial mindset, in the throes of burnout and ministry fatigue and heat exhaustion and everyday-life-in-developing-country frustrations, God has been reminding me to go ahead and enjoy some moderate binge-ing as well as the luxuries that come with life in Niger. They DO exist! After all, we are making memories and stowing treasures that may have to last us and those who will miss us - for awhile.

So you can bet that for the next 20 or so days, I'm not only going to enjoy butter on my pancakes, but also:

• munch on fried bean cakes with my friend at her restaurant on the side of the street, 
• sip tea sitting on the terrace with visitors, 
• devour doughnuts with the dorm one more time,
• wave at and greet the gendarme manning the security checks,
• relish the local peanut butter that my sweet friend makes and sells - and which will hopefully soon be featured at a local boutique,
• chatter with the veggie man as I buy fruit and veggies and still find it amazing that I'm speaking a language other than English or even French... all of the time,
• ask the parking attendant how his twin boys are doing,
• go out to breakfast, order an omelet only to have the waiter inform me that the restaurant is out of eggs... then laugh and decide that a pain au chocolate will suffice instead,
• buy baguettes right off the street,
• deliver clothes and toys to some friends who don't have much,
• invite playmates from many nations over to hang with the kids,
• brave the heat of the kitchen and spend time cooking and sharing recipes with my friend and house helper,
• eat street meat,
• let bedtimes slide,
• snuggle with the cats,
• and the dogs,
• watch the sun set over the river every night, if I can,
• visit one more school where servant hearts teaching in seemingly impossible situations still try and meet the needs of a child with disabilities simply because that is what Jesus would do,
• stand outside in a dust storm... if we get another one and then run inside to listen to the pounding rain on a tin roof,
• sit at the side of the pool and visit with friends while the kids splash and play,
• listen to water rushing over the barage when the electricity goes out,
• sing my favorite hymns and worship songs to drum accompaniment and an African tempo,
• laugh aloud and enthusiastically join in as the whole church sings and does the motions to a Sunday School song,
• listen to the everyday music of an African tribal tongue... and my Zarma friends keep on keeping on, patiently helping me to communicate with them in their heart language......

Sometimes it is easy in the busyness and the hardness of life as an expat to flounder in the frustrations instead of basking in the beautiful - of which there is much if we only open our eyes to see and drop the martyr habit.

As we prepare to leave, we don't want to whitewash the hard, but we do want to celebrate and treasure the gift we've had to be a part of life in this amazing place. 

For, make no doubt about it - it is a gift.

Knowing the hard, we'd still overwhelmingly choose it again... and again... and again.

All of the prep up to this time has been to hopefully 

give us the luxury of time to finish well... 

Saying good bye... or even just an extended see you later... 

to places and people will hurt.

But it can also be done well and that helps the hurt to be worth it.

That's our prayer.

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Other posts in this series of preparing to leave the field:

In which I'm charged by a hippo...
Jumping the Gun? Or Procrastination?
Turning over that TCK leaf
Three months AND three days AND counting...
Going Fishing...
An "infamous" word - at least for me
Conquering nightmares with dreams
The Hounds of Hoarding

The Hounds of Hoarding

I wonder if this happens to every first term missionary?

Before ever arriving on the field, this really long list from soon to be colleagues arrives informing:

• what is available and affordable in country;
• what is available but expensive;
• what is available in country but such a poor quality it might as well not be;
• what is occasionally available under rare circumstances and when it is, it is super-expensive; and
• what you'd better kiss goodbye for the next few years, OR figure out a way to bring it in your suitcases, OR beg and plead with friends who might be willing to mail you some of whatever it is - but only if feasible,of course, OR just be blessed enough to have friends take the initiative and surprise you with those little bits of home!

Treats received via the post!

Our first time out we brought all sorts of stuff; it literally felt like TONS - sunscreen, shoes, toothpaste, shampoo, deodorant, toothbrushes, ranch seasoning packets, spices, baking soda, pens, pencils, sharpies, swimsuits, feminine supplies, M&Ms, chocolate chips, underwear, razors, sensitive ear earrings, hats for all the kids, sunglasses, adult and children's acetaminophen and ibuprofen, Sudafed, antihistamines, boxes of Kraft Mac & Cheese, hairbrushes and all sorts of hair bands and doodads, bug repellent, blank CDs and cassettes for the studio...

The list could go on and on and on... I honestly cannot recall all that we felt was necessary that many years ago. So many things we were certain were so important if we wanted to make Niger feel just a little more like home.

We got here and I carefully stored away those treasures, figuring I'd need to diligently ration them, parceling them out bit by bit if they were going to last us for the next couple of years. And then, of course, some just had to be tucked away for those very special occasions. If you're an expat or international worker reading this, you know just what I mean: six M&Ms per person on Friday nights after pizza as the highlight desert for the week!

It really was a great plan!

Except I got busy, discovered the many unique treasures easily and only available here, and I mostly forgot what I was hoarding... until one of the kids (or the husband) remembered, uncovered, stumbled upon or in some other clandestine manner found a hidden and forbidden without permission treat - and then began the incessant hounding to consume said delices, immediately.

I'd either cave or find a better hiding place.

And time flew by. All of a sudden we were purchasing tickets and it was time to start cleaning out cupboards, packing and storing things for home assignment, and distributing or selling what I didn't want to pack or store. I discovered that I'd forgotten about a lot more stuff than I'd actually remembered was there.

Anyone else been there, done that? Do you recognize that sheepish, somewhat guilty feeling that steals in where you start looking through all the stuff you've been hoarding for just the right moment, find out you're out of right moments and there's still more left sitting around than you could possibly use in the normal every day of the next 8 weeks or so? Anyone else's family fussed at you for the package of M&Ms trapped in an ice pack in the bottom of the freezer - and the awful waste it will become if you don't manage to somehow rescue them without drowning them in the requisite thaw?

I sure hope I'm not the only one. I don't think I am, since I've heard many local expat friends joke about it on more than one occasion, and I've been to too many moving away slash leaving for home assignment sales littered with stashes of processed food from the States.

To prevent this from happening to me my family this time, about a month ago I emptied our chest freezer, defrosted, cleaned it really well and then we gave it to recently married Nigerien friends of ours as a part of their wedding gift. They hope to get a restaurant business started, so they were delighted! Not only that, but now the frozen, freezer burned cauliflower bag that had disintegrated, dumping its contents all over the freezer floor is already checked off that to-do list.

About two weeks ago, I started culling through my cupboards and pantry. As I make my menu plans these final weeks, I striving to use up at least a couple of items, including the remaining "treasure" stocks. I can't can't wait to teach my 7th grader (who's being home schooled this year) how to make a pumpkin roll with the last can of pumpkin from a package friends sent last fall. It will be a fun treat for us... and for the family after dinner some evening. 

This gives me time to identify those things that I know I'll use as well as those things that I'm pretty sure I won't use to set them aside for the upcoming moving out sales or give them to a friend I know hope will appreciate them.

We are a family of 10 and we often have company (think lots of teenagers) hanging around, sometimes staying for dinner. That means I tend to cook and buy in bulk. Now, however, I'm aiming more to buy just the amounts needed for each meal - 1 L bottles of oil instead of the 5 L, small cans of mayo and mustard instead of the jumbo ones. The pantry full of non-perishables that all expats are told to keep accessible and available, just in case something makes grocery shopping hazardous or impossible? We've pretty much eaten our way through our always-less-than-recommended-store.

Just last weekend, I went through our medicine cabinet... and I did pat myself on the back. Most of what's left I'll be taking with me as we travel, just in case someone has a headache or our daughter's allergy induced asthma starts acting up as we leave the dryness of this desert climate. As we do laundry, we pull out those clothes that don't look quite as faded by the line drying under the Sahara sun and stash those in suitcases. Most of the rest of our clothing will be given away.

I could keep on going with additional examples of how each couple of days, each weekend, I continue to direct my family through this gradual culling, but I'm pretty sure you get the picture. 

Frankly, it feels great - the confidence that we've stewarded our little treasures and delights well and that when we get to that final pack and our last few days in country, I won't be discovering anything forgotten... or have my family demanding that I seek therapy due to excessive hoarding.

This week, in fact, we're enjoying Craisins on our salads!

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How do you keep from being hunted by those hounds of hoarding?

Do you feel this is a stewardship issue or not?

Can you share about a time in your life where a fear of inadequate provision for the future prevented you from thoroughly celebrating the moment?

Other posts in this series of preparing to leave the field:

In which I'm charged by a hippo...
Jumping the Gun? Or Procrastination?
Turning over that TCK leaf
Three months AND three days AND counting...
Going Fishing...
An "infamous" word - at least for me
Conquering nightmares with dreams

Conquering nightmares with dreams

It has been an almost nightly wee hours of the morning occurrence for a few weeks now. Because of the heat and the excessive cost of air conditioning in this heat, we do what many other missionary families choose to do - we all sleep in one room. Yes... all ten of us, mattresses piles on the floor for the kids, furniture pushed up next to the walls, small battery powered lanterns for the biggers who want to continue reading or finishing homework after the lights go out, the thermostat set on 31' C, and many prayers that electricity continues at least mostly uninterrupted during the nighttime hours.

Of course, that means that littlest one stumbles to the bathroom sometime around midnight trips onto our waterbed and begins the slow process of plopping, flopping and kerplopping her way up to the pillows and the middle of the bed. It really reminds me of a fish on the shore trying to find its way back to where it needs to be. She then promptly smashes her nose against my face and I thank the Lord that the fan is still spinning. Otherwise sleep would become an impossibility, at least for me, in this heat with a little one smashed up against me.

Forty-five minutes or so later, I can usually extricate myself from her sweet but very tight grasp, roll over and go back to sleep, at least for awhile...

...until...

She starts kicking and pushing, thrashing about, muttering and crying - real tears. I hear her dad mumble something and throw a pillow over his head in frustration. I turn back towards her to wrap her in my arms and gently whisper her awake. Somewhere around the 5th night this has happened, I finally I make out some words: "big," "ugly," "mean" and "cockroach" clearly articulated... several times. A few nights later, having been able to distinguish those same words (as well as others), it is quite clear that she's developed a persistent cockroach phobia.

Katsaridaphobia. That's the "scientific" name for a fear of cockroaches. 

I can't blame her. I don't like them either and  we do seem to be seeing an inordinate number of the critters these days. It startles when one drops off the shower curtain on your shoulder, one scurries across your foot when you're walking to get a drink of cool water in the dark of the night or you lift the bed cover to make the bed and find what you thought was a dead one (until you try and dispose of it) just under the edge of your bed. Those insects are the reason she absolutely refuses to use the "private" toilets at church and hesitates at anything long and skinny poking out from under something and gently waving, antenna-like. I, myself, have not been particularly fond of them since my senior year of high school (I can't ever remember thinking of them before that) when my World Lit instructor insisted that the "monstrous vermin" in Kafka's Metamorphosis was, indeed, a cockroach. I must confess that I am guilty of teasing my husband that one of the perks of marriage is my prince willing and able to rid our world of those nasty fire breathing dragons roaches. 

Just kidding... sort of. 

My 17 year old boy would roll his eyes and tell you I'm not. As prince-in-training, he often gets drafted into said duty.

Why am I going on all about this? 

Now that I know my little one has repeated disturbing dreams about resilient, hard-to-kill big bugs with long wavy antennae that scare her, I can try and help her do something about it...

However, the point of this post is not a 12 step recovery program from katsaridaphobia.

Rather, I've been thinking much about the fact that one way to conquer the scary is to redirect focus on the hopeful.

God's Word says it like this:

"For the rest, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is worthy of reverence and is honorable and seemly, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely and lovable, whatever is kind and winsome and gracious, if there is any virtue and excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think on and weigh and take account of these things [fix your minds on them]." (Philippians 4.8, Amplified Bible)

We are trying to allow these thoughts to guide our table (and other) conversation as we talk together about our imminent reentry. 

So what sorts of things provoke leaving/reentry nightmares in this tribe of ten? 

• "I'm going to miss my friends Imogen, Mo Mo, Elayna, Caleb and Nata...,"
• "The reality that every time we leave, we might never be back...," 
• " Knowing I might never see Niger friends ever again...," 
• "Wondering if i'll be able to fit in and make friends, again...," 
• "Saying bye to my friends and packing up all my stuff. What if I forget something important and special or don't get to see someone or forget to say bye to them?...,"
• "Facing the possibility that I might never come back to Niger...," 
• "I really have no experience of what is about to come. It has always been predictable in the past, but I have no idea this time...,"
• "I'm going to miss Imogen. I won't get to see Jayson. God's Comfort says he likes me! And since my best friend is Australian, I talk some Australian now and what if people can't understand me? I also am afraid I won't have new friends to like me even when I do things different...,"
• "Stepping on a plane yet once again...," and
• "Not exactly knowing the next step."

We don't want to get lost in those nightmares, however. If all we look at is the scary, we can totally miss seeing out on the beautiful potential, the amazing, God-gifted fun and glorious parts of going back to our other home and being a part of life there again - for whatever amount of time God gifts us. 

So what sorts of happy dreams occupy the hearts and souls of these Wrightlings (and their parents)?

• "After what seems like forever (even though its only been two years) of always wondering what the next step might be, we finally know the next step and are taking it...,"
• "Andi's getting married to Uncle Joe and I get to see them and be one of their flower girls...,"
• "Andi's wedding and getting to be a flower girl and seeing all my girl cousins and grandparents..,"
• "Being able to be with family and big hugs at the airport...," 
• "Seeing family and watching Animal Planet on TV again...,"
• "Looking forward to a challenge and lots of new things, especially after the sometimes sameness of life here...,"
• "Seeing family and friends back in the States and having more time with them (and giving Grandpa Gene a hug and kiss with his new beard!)...,"
• "Exploring possibilities, renewing old friendships and relationships and walking with  trust and great expectations into whatever God has for this next time for our family...,"
• "Getting home delivered pizza, doughnuts that Mommy doesn't have to make, and getting to see Buddy, Jeremiah and Uncle Joe. Grandparents will be fun, too!...,"
• "All the new beginnings, fresh starts and wide-open opportunities I'll get to live...!"

Nuff said!

Other posts in this series of preparing to leave the field:

In which I'm charged by a hippo...
Jumping the Gun? Or Procrastination?
Turning over that TCK leaf
Three months AND three days AND counting...
Going Fishing...
An "infamous" word - at least for me

Going fishing...

...for answers ~ 

Last time I wrote, I shared a list of "intangibles:" questions that I've been using to help bring closure to this term and to figure out if there are any things we need to focus on "finishing" well these last few months, in that intangible sense of the world. They are those items that cannot easily be put on a checklist and then crossed through once accomplished; they are still subjects that need to be addressed - by my husband and I, but also by our children.

• "What has/have been the high point/s of this term?"
• “What were some of the most difficult experiences?”
• "Where do I feel I've succeeded?"
• "How do I feel I have failed? Is this failure due to sin?"
• “How have I spied God working in my life personally, professionally and spiritually?”
• “What did I hope to achieve - long term goals and short term objectives?" 
• "Did I accomplish them, have I not yet achieved them, or are they currently in progress?”
• “The activities I have been involved with during this term - would I describe them as satisfying or fulfilling? Are they consistent with my reasons for becoming a missionary in this particular place? Am I doing what I told our partners back in my home country I'd be doing? Do my activities apply to my specific responsibilities?"
• “What did/is God accomplish/ing through me?"
• “What have been the greatest roadblocks and frustrations I have encountered?"
• “Are there unresolved on-field relationships (expat and local colleagues) I need to reconcile before leaving?”
• "What goodbyes need to be said, how do they need to be said and what memories do I hope to make in the time remaining? How do I say goodbye well?"

And so we've been talking - the two of us, as a family and then taking opportunities to talk with our kids individually, to listen and to really hear what they are saying.

There has been a key idea come clearly to the forefront in these conversations. Each one of us (with maybe the exception of the littlest two) began this term in Niger with certain expectations and those expectations impact our perspectives and evaluations of what has or has not happened throughout the course of this term. There are many types of expectations, and the following is not meant to be an exhaustive list, but rather a jumping off point to encouraging further reflection.

Some expectations are ones we set for ourselves. I knew this term I wanted to help the local international school for TCKs initiate and establish a program/department to help address the needs of students with special needs. A significant amount of my time and attention has been directed towards that goal. 

Other expectations we control very minimally, if at all. One year into this term, our mission organization back in the States began the process of dissolution (the nonprofit's option - similar, but different - to filing for bankruptcy). This has left a pile of "externally determined" expectations sitting on the shoulders of my husband as field director, some of which he's been able to meet while others are still in process and their completion will most likely have to be handled by whoever steps into his role when we fly out in June.

There are those expectations we've intentionally or unintentionally laid upon the shoulders of others. Intentionally, my husband and I asked our older children to help with the Sunday School program at our local church. Unintentionally, this developed into the two of them actually coordinating and leading the program - and a lot more responsibility for them to carry than we had envisioned in that initial expectation.

There are also those expectations that are assumed - and often unspoken, never very clearly spelled out or "habits" that no longer need spelling out, but that are, nonetheless, important. Often that happens within the family unit (i.e. I expect my children to launder, hang out, fold and put away their laundry without specifying all of those steps every single load - often times I'll simply ask who needs the laundry machine next and they know what is expected), but it can also occur where cultures collide and one person assumes something is automatic while the other remains clueless.

When I expect something good to happen, I look forward to it and call it hope. The opposite is expecting something bad, resulting in feelings of anxiety, avoidance and dread. And, of course, there is the whole continuum in between those two expectation extremes. High expectations can produce great effort and hard work in the attempts to achieve them. Or they can result in a greater sense of failure and worthlessness when a goal is not achieved. Low expectations sometimes feels safer, but they also minimize any sense of accomplishment after achieving an objective.

I've been using this idea of expectations to help myself and my children process some of these intangible questions. 

How does this work? 

I've been having a conversation with my first grader about her experience of first grade. She has no problem saying that she wasn't excited about starting back to school this year except for four things: 1) She knew she liked her teacher because one of our other daughters had had her the year before - she thought her teacher seemed nice and was really pretty and so that was cool, 2) She is an extrovert and loves making friends and being with other people, 3) She also wanted to learn to become an independent reader but wasn't sure if she'd rather learn at home or at school, and 4) She new first grade came before second grade and all of her older friends have loved second grade. When it comes to seeing how well her expectations have been fulfilled, she has expressed several things. 

• Her teacher has been really nice and she still thinks she is pretty so she likes being in her class every day. That expectation has been met. 
• In her class, she met a little Australian gal who could be her identical twin personality wise, and the two have a blast together, sometimes too much. Again, that was a hope beautifully realized. 
• She has learned to read this year. Although she isn't presently reading at the level her teachers would like to see, my girl feels good about how she is doing. She is reading, she likes to read, her little sister likes to sit and let her read stories to her and she can see that she keeps getting better.
• The last key school expectation is that she will complete first grade ready to move to super fun second grade - which is clearly still a work in progress.

Thus, in my first grader's eyes, first grade is well on its way to being a complete success, in every way... 

What about a similar conversation with an older child? Our oldest daughter has been taking horseback riding lessons on and off for the last several years - including until just recently this year. Because of the institution where she believes she wants to start her post-secondary education, she returned to Niger planning to take these lessons to better prepare her for this school. We weren't on the ball the first year back, however, and she missed the enrollment period and was only able to ride sporadically. Last year and up until a month ago, she was taking lessons, usually 1 per week. But she came to us and said that she was tired and wanted to stop last month and we respected her decision. Ultimately, it came down to a few things: 1) She wasn't progressing as quickly as the other kids in her group because we can only afford for her to go once a week; thus she felt she had plateau-ed and was tired of feeling like she never measured up, 2) Her friends are important to her and she didn't really feel like she had friends at her lessons - her classmates all attend a different school and the only time their paths crossed was during that class. She would enjoy talking with the girls, but it never went beyond that casual conversation and it wasn't satisfying her need for someone to share the whole experience with her. 3) She is beginning a period of intense examinations for 9th and 10th graders that occur each year and she was already feeling tired. She felt that to do well, she would need more rest and riding was the thing she was most willing to remove from her schedule. Thus, that block of time every Thursday was not meeting her expectations and was, in some way, conflicting and preventing her from working towards other goals and expectations she had set - so stepping back for a time seemed to be a wise decision. 

Clearly, we agreed. Recently, I asked her about her choice. She has discovered that she does miss those lessons and the opportunity to interact with the horses and is looking forward to having that opportunity again someday in the future. She didn't expect to miss the class, but she is... but this whole experience has cemented (at least at this moment - she still has 2 years to go) her original thoughts in regard to future schooling.

Thus, building a discussion centered on expectations is helping me to walk my children through those intangibles. We're fishing for the answers to those questions with the expectation that they can reach a good point of closure as we finish, maybe permanently, our family's time in Niger.

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How about you? How would you approach helping your children work through the types of questions listed at the beginning of this article?

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Other posts in this series of preparing to leave the field:

In which I'm charged by a hippo...
Jumping the Gun? Or Procrastination?
Turning over that TCK leaf
Three months AND three days AND counting...