Almost every missionary who has learned a new language has a hilarious story or two about his language bloopers.
Since
I write out all my Bible lessons word-for-word, I don’t have too many
funny mistakes to share, just average mistakes; but my husband
has made some memorable gaffes that I hope will encourage all who
attempt to learn a foreign language, that no matter how bad the mistake,
just keep trying!
Besides innocuous one-liner funnies, like telling a line of 20 baptismal candidates to hold their sheep (tinyimpfu) instead of their noses (tinompfu),
I’d like to share 2 of Seth’s worst, funniest mistakes that we still
laugh about with tears and sides aching, and embarrassment!
But
first as a warm-up, I’ll share a misunderstanding he had with a neighbor
over terminology, which illustrates how the Tsongas will “tsongalize”
an English word, and we don’t catch it; and then we laugh later at how
they used or abused the English language.
Our neighbors came at 8
PM one night, upset--not at the man's immorality with a woman--but that
the woman had stolen some of his paperwork, like his identity book, as
well as his “tijokes.” (This guy is quite a character; he calls himself
Walker Texas Ranger.) Our neighbor wanted Seth to drive him a couple
villages away to retrieve these things, especially the “tijokes.”
Seth
was wondering what those were—comic books? Seth tried to refuse, “It’s
late!” but eventually, he drove them. Finally when they were almost back
home, he discovered that “tijokes” are underwear! (We guessed it comes
from the brand name Jockey.) We still tease Seth about his gallant
nature in this misadventure of rescuing the man’s "tijokes."
Okay, first BIG blooper:
Upon
preaching through Ephesians in youth group, Seth arrived at Ephesians
5:22. At the end of a sermon on Biblical femininity, Seth gave some
practical applications to the teen girls. He was trying to translate
“don’t initiate” (in the context of guys and girls), and this was yet
another example of Tsonga’s limited vocabulary. He took the verb for “be
first, or begin” (rhanga), and added the “-isa” ending to it (rhangisa), which changes it to “make first, or to lead.” Then he added the emphatic negative command (not just a simple negative command); like saying, “Don’t ever do this.”
It should have worked! The way he did it would have worked with most verbs; but not this one.
The sermon was a total loss after that. The youth tried to control
themselves; but I’ll never forget one adult woman who had attended that
day, hiding her face in her arms, shoulders shaking from laughter for
five full minutes!
One of them finally got up the nerve to explain
after youth group. Unbeknownst to Seth, colloquially, the mothers tell
their children this word to begin dressing. If there is no direct object
after “rhangisa,” it colloquially means, “start dressing,” or more
specifically, “Put on your underwear.”
Seth had just told the girls in a mixed youth group, in the context of what to do in relation to guys, “Don’t ever put on your underclothes!” AUGH! The good thing about mistakes like that is that you never forget the language lesson!
Second mistake:
Seth
was preaching a sermon on baptism, preparing some baptismal candidates
for an upcoming baptismal service. He meant to be reassuring, “You will
get in the water, you will get wet, and then you will come out…”
The word for get wet is “tsakama.”
He mistakenly added that “-isa” ending again, which literally means “to
make wet,” but colloquially means “to urinate.” He told them, “You’ll
get in the water, you’ll urinate, and then you’ll come out…”
I'm going first!
I
love telling these stories, especially to fellow missionaries, because
they can understand, because there is healing in the humility of making
fun of yourself and a release from discouragement when you can laugh
about it, and because it may encourage others to keep going in their
endeavors to learn a language--because it can’t get much worse than
this. :)
Pages
▼
Monday, March 31, 2014
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Being Master
Our gardener/yard worker, Nirmala, had to stop working for us about a month ago because her husband did not want her working for us. He is not a Christian, and I think he does not want our influence on her. She was learning so much. We hated to lose her, but encouraged her in her submission to her husband. We are thankful she can still visit with us.
But once again, we are left with the decision. Do we hire someone else to replace her? Is it a need? Will it benefit the ministry here? Several months ago I did a blog post on To Hire or Not to Hire. It seems we are back at the same spot-- deciding what is best for our family, and seeking God's leadership.
I am thankful we still have Dipikha, our house worker, sister in Christ, and our dear friend.
This is actually a great time for me to examine my role as boss... or "master."
But once again, we are left with the decision. Do we hire someone else to replace her? Is it a need? Will it benefit the ministry here? Several months ago I did a blog post on To Hire or Not to Hire. It seems we are back at the same spot-- deciding what is best for our family, and seeking God's leadership.
I am thankful we still have Dipikha, our house worker, sister in Christ, and our dear friend.
This is actually a great time for me to examine my role as boss... or "master."
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Wednesday's Wonderings...
What is your "go-to" meal for company? Do you serve something "American" or something native to your host culture?
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Soft Pretzel Recipe
We call these school day pretzels because they are perfect to mix up and eat for lunch during the bustle of managing all your responsibilities. It's a nice warm yummy treat.
Don't be worried about the twisting. It's really a lot easier than it looks!
Grocery List
1 1/2 cups warm water
2 Tablespoons light brown sugar
2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast
3 ounces butter, melted
2 1/2 teaspoons sea salt
4 1/2 cups flour
oil, to grease bowl
3 quarts water
2/3 cup baking soda (this is not a misprint, it really needs this)
1 whole egg, beaten with 1 Tablespoon water
Soft Pretzel Directions1. Mix together the water, sugar, yeast, and butter. After it is well combined let rest 5 minutes.
2. Add the salt and flour to mixture and stir until well combined. ( I recently received a stand mixer and it is so easy to just use the dough hook and let it knead for about 3 or 4 minutes. ) If you do not have a mixer, don't worry, you can use a spoon also! Grandma didn't have a stand mixer! After a few minutes the dough will come together and start pulling away from the edges of the bowl. That's a good thing!
Note: If the dough appears too wet add flour 1 Tablespoon at a time.
3. Turn the smooth dough out onto a floored surface and knead into a ball with your hands. Coat a large bowl all the way up the sides with oil. Place your dough ball in the bowl and turn it to coat the outside of your dough. (I put it back into my mixer stand bowl and cover it with plastic wrap. I don't like washing more dishes if I don't have to!) Cover with a towel or plastic wrap and place in a warm place to rise. Where I live just about any place is hot enough to let bread rise!
4. Let your dough rise until doubled. It usually takes a little over an hour.
With practice you can get the top steps done in under 10 minutes. I like to start the pretzel dough around 10:30 during a quick break from school work. By the time the pretzel dough is doubled it is time for the kids to have their lunch break or at least work on something individually where I can start these babies cooking.
5. Preheat your oven to 425 F. Start a large pot of water boiling with 3 quarts water.
6. Make a floured surface and take fluffy dough out of bowl. Divide into 8 even balls. Roll each one into a long, long rope. Shaping pretzels can be a little daunting. Don't worry…your kids will eat it even if it looks funny.
Folding a pretzel - Take your long rope and make a circle with opening at top. Pick up right side lay over left. Twist them around together again and flip both edges under the bottom of your circle. You can do it!
7. Slowly….very slowly add baking soda to boiling water. If you add it fast it will turn into a science experiment and erupt all over your stove. Trust me. It wasn't pretty. Of course my stove was much cleaner after I cleaned that up!
8. 2 at a time drop your pretzels into the boiling water for 30 seconds. Splash water onto tops as they cook.
9. Spray cookie sheet and place boiled pretzels on sheet with 3 or 4 inches between them. Now you brush your egg wash on them and sprinkle on the sea salt. Sometimes I let the kids put cinnamon and sugar and they shake it on like there is no tomorrow. It's good {very} good.
10. I bake them for about 13 minutes until they are golden brown. If you want to make a little cheese sauce to dip them in... you'd probably get a gold star from the kids.
Have a lovely day,
Maria
Monday, March 24, 2014
When Words That Do Not Exist Communicate ~ The Many Jobs of a Missionary, Linguist, Part 2
A missionary must learn the language of the people to whom he is ministering.
This really should go "without saying"; but unfortunately, some missionaries rely on translators for years, making little attempt to apply themselves to the language of the people around them. I have little to say in return to such a missionary. There are so many reasons why it is important for a missionary not only to get by in the language of his people, but also to be a linguist--to study the language in an attempt at eventual fluency. (This job never really ends.)
Why should missionaries be linguists?
Well, probably most obviously, attempting to learn the language communicates love--and humility. When people see a "smart" person (and some Africans think you are smart simply because you do speak English) humbling himself by stuttering out concepts in their home language, it makes you a real, accessible person. So many Africans have been delightedly surprised to hear us greet them in their language. And for some, their delight is unbounded when they hear us converse with them even beyond the greetings. Our first male convert came about because Seth stuck out his hand to shake hands with a security guard at a grocery store and greeted him in Tsonga, "Mi njhani?"
Next,
learning the language forestalls errors in translation or
miscommunication. Take out the middle man, the translator; and although
yes, there are certain concepts the translator will be able to say
better than you, once you have learned the language, you may find that
there are certain concepts the translator himself didn't understand the
way you meant them; and you may be chagrined to find out how he was
translating it.
But finally and most importantly, there is a vital connection between language and culture. Learning the two go together. There is a debate about which came first--the chicken or the egg? Or in this case, the culture or the language? When you learn the language, you are gleaning eye-opening information about how those people think. What is important to them, and what isn't? In this case, words that they do not have may communicate just as much as the ones they do have.
Here's how an expert says it:
Words Tsonga Does Not Have
A culture may be just fine missing some words or distinctions, as in the above quoted example of snow; but when a culture is missing certain words, it shows the spiritual state they are in--even their spiritual degradation and danger. Please pray for our dear people and for us as we use with our limited abilities a limited language to explain an unlimited, worthy God.
I am interested to hear from my missionary friends if they have found the same things true in the language in which they minister?
This really should go "without saying"; but unfortunately, some missionaries rely on translators for years, making little attempt to apply themselves to the language of the people around them. I have little to say in return to such a missionary. There are so many reasons why it is important for a missionary not only to get by in the language of his people, but also to be a linguist--to study the language in an attempt at eventual fluency. (This job never really ends.)
Why should missionaries be linguists?
Well, probably most obviously, attempting to learn the language communicates love--and humility. When people see a "smart" person (and some Africans think you are smart simply because you do speak English) humbling himself by stuttering out concepts in their home language, it makes you a real, accessible person. So many Africans have been delightedly surprised to hear us greet them in their language. And for some, their delight is unbounded when they hear us converse with them even beyond the greetings. Our first male convert came about because Seth stuck out his hand to shake hands with a security guard at a grocery store and greeted him in Tsonga, "Mi njhani?"
But finally and most importantly, there is a vital connection between language and culture. Learning the two go together. There is a debate about which came first--the chicken or the egg? Or in this case, the culture or the language? When you learn the language, you are gleaning eye-opening information about how those people think. What is important to them, and what isn't? In this case, words that they do not have may communicate just as much as the ones they do have.
Here's how an expert says it:
Ethnolinguistics, the study of the relationship between language and culture, has shown that languages provide categories through which people think. Languages mirror culture at every point. They emphasize and systematize what is important to the culture and filter out what is not important. For example, Eskimo tribes have as many as seven distinct labels to distinguish between types of snow ("falling snow, snow on the ground, fluffy snow, wet snow, and so forth"), while English has one all-inclusive word for the concept. Equatorial African languages have no term at all for snow but typically expand the word hail to include the idea of snow....
As missionaries evangelize in animistic contexts, they must realize that as outsiders to the cultures they must learn the categories of animistic thought as formulated by cultural insiders....These categories must be understood by the missionary if he is to effectively communicate God's eternal message in contexts where animistic worldviews are present. pg. 45-46, 48 Communicating Christ in Animistic Contexts by Gailyn Van RheenenThe Tsonga language is much less complex and much more limited, especially in words for propositions, than English. We are stymied at times to find ways to communicate important Biblical truths in words that don't exist in Tsonga! Here are some examples, some of which we can communicate through a phrase or approximation, but some of which are simply not there:
Words Tsonga Does Not Have
- Affect
- Eternity, eternal, everlasting
- Condition
- Priority
- Right, wrong
- Moral, immoral
- Valid, invalid
- True, false
- Temporary, permanent
- Proportion
- Mental, doctrinal, intellectual
- Certain, definite
- Specific, particular
- Limit
- Naturally, by nature
- Early
- Law / principle / rule / guideline / direction / standard
- Job / task / role / occupation / work
- Late / prolonged
- Want / need
- Must / might / can / could / should
- Justice / righteousness
- Mercy / grace
- Old / elderly
- Trouble / danger
- Good / great
- Better / best
- Consequences / payment
- Speak / say / mean / communicate
- Worthy / Deserving
- Love / will / like / desire
A culture may be just fine missing some words or distinctions, as in the above quoted example of snow; but when a culture is missing certain words, it shows the spiritual state they are in--even their spiritual degradation and danger. Please pray for our dear people and for us as we use with our limited abilities a limited language to explain an unlimited, worthy God.
I am interested to hear from my missionary friends if they have found the same things true in the language in which they minister?
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Saddling My Camel: Becoming a Sarah
She saddled her camel and jumped on... Wait. Do you saddle a camel?
Ok. She threw a blanket on her camel and jumped on... Well, maybe it was a donkey. Whatever she rode on, the fact of the matter is, she followed Abraham.
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Wondering Wednesdays...
In the interest of asking for prayer and keeping them informed, yet not causing them to worry... how and how much do you tell your families and supporters of potentially dangerous situations on your field?
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
International Dinner: ISRAEL
My days on Kibbutz Degania Bet, the communal farm in
Northern Israel where I spent the summer between my sophomore and junior year
of college, will never be forgotten. I
dug in soil recycled from the days Philistine and
Israelite battles and skipped rocks from the bank of the Jordan River where it
flows out of the Sea of Galilee. I fell
in love with the land (which I knew I would), I fell in love with the people (although I already had), but I really fell in love (new, young, infatuated puppy love) with the FOOD. Here are three of my favorites,
representing the melting pot of cultures that Israel is.
Israeli Salad
As pure Israeli as it
gets. This is a staple at practically
every meal. On the kibbutz, the veggies
were offered in the cafeteria—whole, raw and with a pile of knives. Every meal is more fun after a chopping
party! A true “balabusta” (keeper of the
home) would never do this, though. She
would take great pride in chopping tiny pieces.
As you can see from my picture, I’m not yet a “balabusta”...If I had chopped about three times finer (without mushing, of course) It would be perfect.
Ingredients:
2-4 cucumbers
4 large tomatoes
1 green pepper, seeded
1 red pepper, seeded
1 small onion
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. pepper
1 tbsp. lemon juice
Preparation:
Finely dice all vegetables, the smaller the better, and mix
together in a bowl.
Add oil and lemon juice.
Season to taste and serve immediately.
To make a richer salad, add any of these: parsley, chopped
olives, coarsely grated carrots, cubed avocado, radishes, green onions, thinly
sliced cabbage or lettuce.
Yields 4-6 servings
Sesame Turkey (or
Chicken) Schnitzel
The name, “schnitzel”
may remind you of something German (vienerschnitzel). In fact, it is! Jewish people from Eastern Europe are called "Ashkenazi Jews." (As opposed to Sephardic Jews, who lived in Mediterranean region or Arab lands) Because Jewish people were dispersed
throughout the world, Jewish food borrows from the many cultures they have live
among. This version has a definite
Israeli twist with lemon and sesame, which you won’t find in the German
counterpart. This is a “Shabbat”
favorite, eaten after sundown on Friday night.
Ingredients:
4 pieces turkey or chicken breast, thinly sliced (about 4
oz./125 grams each)
1 tbsp. lemon juice
½ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. pepper
1 egg
½ cup spiced breadcrumbs (or finely crushed crackers)
½ cup sesame seeds
oil for frying
Sprinkle turkey/chicken with lemon juice, salt and
pepper. Let stand for 30 minutes.
Beat egg in a shallow dish.
Put flour in a wide plate.
Mix together bread crumbs with sesame seeds on a separate
plate.
Dip turkey/chicken breast in flour, then in the egg, coat
evenly with breadcrumb mixture.
Heat oil in a heavy frying pan and fry over medium-low heat
on both sides until golden brown. Drain
on paper towels
Serve hot with lemon wedges, rice or mashed potatoes, and
vegetables.
Yield: 4 servings
Note: It’s not overly
authentic, but my kids love for me to cut theirs into strips before
cooking: Lemon Sesame Chicken Fingers...tastes
like Schnitzel!
Also note in my picture: I didn't have nearly enough sesame seeds on hand as the recipe called for. Still yummy!
Mejadra
This rice and lentil
dish is eaten throughout the Middle East in various forms. It is more popular among Sephardic Jews,
who made their homes in many Arab lands.
Today it is a considered a specialty of Israel’s Galilean Arab community. This delicious grain combination is sure to
be a favorite!
1 cup brown lentils soaked overnight
1 ½ cup brown rice
(or white long grain/jasmine.)
3 cups water
1 ½ tsp. soup powder (chicken or vegetable bullion)
½ tsp. salt
½ tsp. pepper
½ tsp. cumin (optional, to taste)
2 large, finely chopped onions
3 tbsp olive oil
Preparation:
Cover lentils with salted water and cook for about 45
minutes until soft. Drain.
Meanwhile, put rice, water, soup powder, salt and pepper and
cumin in a pan. Bring to a boil and cook
for 15-20 minutes, until all moisture is absorbed and rice is tender.
Fry onions in olive oil until golden. (The very best part!)
Combine lentils, rice and onions. Adjust seasonings.* Reserve some fried onion for garnish and
serve hot.
Yield: 6-8 servings
*Note: I like to taste the rice and lentils before
mixing to adjust seasoning. It’s hard to
get seasonings adjusted later, as the soft lentils tend to “mush” easily.
Recipes adapted from the little cookbook, "The Melting Pot: A Quick and Easy Blend of Israeli Cuisine." Available everywhere tourists go in Israel.
Monday, March 17, 2014
For the Days When You Don't Feel Like You Are Enough
I want to be SouleMama raising all my food and knitting all my own clothing
I want to be Isobel Kuhn pioneering missionary work in the mountains of China.
I want to be Rachel Pieh Jones grappling with culture and how it looks to cross into another one.
But I can't be.
I can only be me.
And some days that is hard.
Really, really hard.
Not because I don't like my life.
I love my life.
But often, I feel like it is not enough.
I know the facts.
Raising all my own food is impossible when you live on a completely concrete plot of land in an apartment in the middle of 2 million other people.
Knitting is another improbability as (a) I don't know how to knit, (b) we don't raise sheep for wool here, and (c) who needs wool sweaters when the average temperature year-round is 88 degrees F?
Pioneering in the mountains of China is not what God has called me to do.
Pioneering in Ghana? Somebody did that job long before I was born.
As for figuring out culture and being a foreigner and how it all mixes? Well, though I've certainly thought lots of those things through, that is not really what God has led me to write about regularly. Who knows? Maybe I'll surprise everybody {including myself!} and write out some of my thoughts on those issues....but not right now.
Some days it is hard to be me, because I feel guilty.
I feel like I have too much.
I've been too blessed.
God hasn't asked me to be a REAL missionary/parent/spouse/pioneer yet.
I've not lost a husband or a child to a dreaded sickness.
I've not slept in a mud hut in 100+ degree weather.
I've not climbed jagged mountains for days and forded swollen rivers for hours.
I've not slept with snakes and tarantulas over my head and lions prowling outside my windows.
But is that the measure of things?
How HARD something is?
Would that change anything?
I don't think so.
As I mull on these thoughts, these vague impressions, I must come back to the same place.
I am called to glorify God, to shine His light wherever I am at.
To lift up His name in word, song, deed.
To praise Him in my home, and on the road, and in the market.
As a wife, AND a mama, AND a missionary.
To make Him known anywhere and everywhere in small ways and big ways.
That is the same for everybody.
So if God asks me to raise all my own food and sew all our clothes, I do it with a loving, thankful spirit.
And if God asks me to cook all our food from scratch and simply wash the clothes we've been blessed with?
I do that with a loving, thankful spirit, too.
If God tells me to climb mountains, cross rivers, and live in a bamboo hut as a pioneer missionary, I do it with a trusting, abiding heart and a courageous spirit.
And if God tells me to love my {many!} neighbors and reach out to those by the road, and in the market, and in town, and in community after community, and in the schools?
I do that with a trusting, abiding heart and a courageous spirit, too.
If God moves me to write about the joys and agonies of crossing cultures and ministering to those whose way of thinking seems so very different from mine, I do it with a humble heart and a willingness to learn.
And if God moves me to write about the joys and agonies of being a mama of littles and living 5,565 miles {as the crow flies!} from the place I used to call home and what it looks like to live out my Christianity here, I do it with a humble heart and a willingness to learn, too.
So today I choose to exalt Him as I knock down cobwebs and wipe away the layers of dirt that dry season brings.
I decide to worship Him as I sing through the sweeping, and the mopping, and the cooking, and the washing, and the feedings, and the diapers changes, and the lights off, and the water off, and the play-doh messes, and the closet clean-outs.
I learn to glorify Him as I pray in my heart for wisdom to guide my children, and I smile at a child when I want to fuss instead, and I talk siblings through conflicts when I want to send them outside and lock the door.
I let His light shine....
and that glorifies Him.
And that?
That is really all He's called me to do.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Friday, March 14, 2014
Pray for your Missionaries! {Guest Post}
Ten hours to the hospital. The missionary was almost to his destination. On the seat beside him sat his sick little girl. He had to get her to the doctor. He glanced sideways at her. How he loved her, this precious little one that God had given him to raise and to protect.
"God," he prayed, "Please help my little girl. Please make her well. Please let the doctor know what is wrong with her so that he can know how to treat it."
His whole mind was consumed with praying and with the worry he felt in his heart. Normally, when he drove the roads in that country, his mind stayed on high alert to what was going on around him, but on that day, his only thought was to get to the doctor FAST.
As he neared a one-way bridge in the road, he noticed a semi truck coming on fast from the opposite direction. He could see that the semi would easily make it to the bridge before he did which meant he was going to have to stop and wait his turn. His foot touched the brake pedal, and the car gradually slowed to a stop on the side of the road. The missionary stared at the oncoming truck but his mind was far from the scene before him. Then without warning, it happened!
Suddenly, from the bushes along the side of the road sprang two men armed with machetes. One of them rushed at his door while the other raced to the passenger side. In an instant, his door was yanked opened (Oh! why hadn't he had it locked as he normally did!), and the terrifying movie-like drama began to play itself out. Thinking quickly, he grabbed his door and jerked it open as wide as it would go. The man on his side of the car was knocked out into the way of the oncoming semi. He slammed and locked his door and then whirled around to take in the situation on his daughter's side of things. The second man was reaching across his daughter going for the gear shift! Mr. Missionary rammed the man's hand to the floorboard and at the same time glanced up at the road. The semi had past! His foot stomped on the gas pedal, and the car roared to life. Both men were left sprawling in the dust behind them.
His heart pounded! It had all happened so fast that it was over before he had really known what was happening. He turned to his daughter. She was okay, just shell-shocked like he was. As his mind replayed the event that had just taken place, he realized that the situation could have gone much worse. Why had that second man dove for the gear shift instead of grabbing his little girl? If he had taken her, everything would have been over. He would have had to get out and fight the two men, and they probably would have taken the car and everything in it. But God had mercifully blinded their eyes, and had given him the wisdom to know exactly what to do. It was a moment in time that he would never ever be able to forget.
Fast forward several months. The missionary and his family were on furlough just finishing up a service at one of their supporting churches. It was obvious that this church loved their missionaries by the way the people hung around their table and spoke to them after the service. No one seemed to be in a hurry to leave. But later, when the church was mostly empty, the pastor came up to the missionary with quite a sober look on his face, "Brother, there is something I gotta to tell you. Each morning, I get here to the church early, but before I enter my office, I always take a few minutes to pray for our missionaries."
The missionary glanced around him at the many prayer letters lining the walls. He nodded, and the pastor continued.
"Each morning, I make my rounds. I lay my hand on these prayer letters and pray for each missionary in turn for a few minutes before I move on to the next one. Well, Brother, several months ago, something really strange happened. I put my hand on your prayer letter and as I began to pray, I was overcome with an intense burden for you and your family. I literally could not take my hand off your letter, and God would not let me move on. Instead, my eyes filled with tears and I stood there for who knows how long laboring in prayer for you. Brother, I'm curious. Do you have any idea why I might have been under such a heavy burden that day?"
Time seemed to stand still for the missionary as his mind raced back to that horrifying day three months before. And then it was his turn to tell his side of the story. The two men hugged one another and wept at the goodness of God. The hearts of that missionary and that pastor bonded as the full truth hit them that they had both been truly laboring together on that fateful day on the mission field.
The missionary went on to tell that story, both sides of it, everywhere he went. And now, more than ever before, he realized that he and his family could not make it without the prayers of their supporters back home.
That missionary was my Dad, Dick Harrelson. The mission field--Papua New Guinea. That little girl was my sister, JoAnna. And that pastor was Pastor Vic Wilson, a man who has faithfully pastored his church and prayed for his missionaries for many years.
Question: Do you pray for your missionaries? I mean, do you REALLY pray for your missionaries? Do you know them personally because their names are on your lips on a regular basis? If you were asked about one of your missionaries in particular, would you know him, or would his name just vaguely ring a bell? That thought bothers me. No, more than that, it scares me! I don't know how to emphasize this enough. Your missionaries, each one of them, needs YOU. Are you ready to bow before God at a moment's notice to spend time in prayer for one of them? They are depending on you for more than just money to keep them on the field. They need your prayers. Their lives may depend on it!
Guest post written by Jessi, missionary wife in Kenya. You can read more from her on her blog Joy Unspeakable.
"God," he prayed, "Please help my little girl. Please make her well. Please let the doctor know what is wrong with her so that he can know how to treat it."
His whole mind was consumed with praying and with the worry he felt in his heart. Normally, when he drove the roads in that country, his mind stayed on high alert to what was going on around him, but on that day, his only thought was to get to the doctor FAST.
As he neared a one-way bridge in the road, he noticed a semi truck coming on fast from the opposite direction. He could see that the semi would easily make it to the bridge before he did which meant he was going to have to stop and wait his turn. His foot touched the brake pedal, and the car gradually slowed to a stop on the side of the road. The missionary stared at the oncoming truck but his mind was far from the scene before him. Then without warning, it happened!
Suddenly, from the bushes along the side of the road sprang two men armed with machetes. One of them rushed at his door while the other raced to the passenger side. In an instant, his door was yanked opened (Oh! why hadn't he had it locked as he normally did!), and the terrifying movie-like drama began to play itself out. Thinking quickly, he grabbed his door and jerked it open as wide as it would go. The man on his side of the car was knocked out into the way of the oncoming semi. He slammed and locked his door and then whirled around to take in the situation on his daughter's side of things. The second man was reaching across his daughter going for the gear shift! Mr. Missionary rammed the man's hand to the floorboard and at the same time glanced up at the road. The semi had past! His foot stomped on the gas pedal, and the car roared to life. Both men were left sprawling in the dust behind them.
His heart pounded! It had all happened so fast that it was over before he had really known what was happening. He turned to his daughter. She was okay, just shell-shocked like he was. As his mind replayed the event that had just taken place, he realized that the situation could have gone much worse. Why had that second man dove for the gear shift instead of grabbing his little girl? If he had taken her, everything would have been over. He would have had to get out and fight the two men, and they probably would have taken the car and everything in it. But God had mercifully blinded their eyes, and had given him the wisdom to know exactly what to do. It was a moment in time that he would never ever be able to forget.
Fast forward several months. The missionary and his family were on furlough just finishing up a service at one of their supporting churches. It was obvious that this church loved their missionaries by the way the people hung around their table and spoke to them after the service. No one seemed to be in a hurry to leave. But later, when the church was mostly empty, the pastor came up to the missionary with quite a sober look on his face, "Brother, there is something I gotta to tell you. Each morning, I get here to the church early, but before I enter my office, I always take a few minutes to pray for our missionaries."
The missionary glanced around him at the many prayer letters lining the walls. He nodded, and the pastor continued.
"Each morning, I make my rounds. I lay my hand on these prayer letters and pray for each missionary in turn for a few minutes before I move on to the next one. Well, Brother, several months ago, something really strange happened. I put my hand on your prayer letter and as I began to pray, I was overcome with an intense burden for you and your family. I literally could not take my hand off your letter, and God would not let me move on. Instead, my eyes filled with tears and I stood there for who knows how long laboring in prayer for you. Brother, I'm curious. Do you have any idea why I might have been under such a heavy burden that day?"
Time seemed to stand still for the missionary as his mind raced back to that horrifying day three months before. And then it was his turn to tell his side of the story. The two men hugged one another and wept at the goodness of God. The hearts of that missionary and that pastor bonded as the full truth hit them that they had both been truly laboring together on that fateful day on the mission field.
The missionary went on to tell that story, both sides of it, everywhere he went. And now, more than ever before, he realized that he and his family could not make it without the prayers of their supporters back home.
Harrelson Family--1989 |
That missionary was my Dad, Dick Harrelson. The mission field--Papua New Guinea. That little girl was my sister, JoAnna. And that pastor was Pastor Vic Wilson, a man who has faithfully pastored his church and prayed for his missionaries for many years.
Question: Do you pray for your missionaries? I mean, do you REALLY pray for your missionaries? Do you know them personally because their names are on your lips on a regular basis? If you were asked about one of your missionaries in particular, would you know him, or would his name just vaguely ring a bell? That thought bothers me. No, more than that, it scares me! I don't know how to emphasize this enough. Your missionaries, each one of them, needs YOU. Are you ready to bow before God at a moment's notice to spend time in prayer for one of them? They are depending on you for more than just money to keep them on the field. They need your prayers. Their lives may depend on it!
Guest post written by Jessi, missionary wife in Kenya. You can read more from her on her blog Joy Unspeakable.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Making a Memorable Missions Conference
Variety... It truly is a beautiful, aromatic spice of life. I love trying new things, going to new places, meeting new people! Trying new foods? Oh, yes. And entering the doors of a new church the first night of missions conference to me was much like opening a Christmas present. Anticipation and excitement. What would this conference be like? What would we learn about the church people through how they did their conference?
When we were travelling on deputation, seeing the variety of styles of missions conferences was thrilling. (I must admit, I am a little biased since my heart is in missions!) Some of the conferences were more like celebrations than a conference. Some of the conferences were clearly the highlight of the year for that church. It was easy to see they invested a lot of time, effort, and money. They sacrificed because that's where their heart is. Missions. You didn't have to drag the members to the conference. They were excited to attend! They were invested!
And for us missionary women, wives, and families, many great memories were made. Our family STILL sits around the dinner table talking about some of those conferences. They made an impact when we attended. They touched our hearts and lives. They encouraged us and still encourage us today.
So what things really stick out to us missionary women? What brings happy memories and thoughts as we look back at these special moments?
I asked this question to a great group of missionary women:
When we were travelling on deputation, seeing the variety of styles of missions conferences was thrilling. (I must admit, I am a little biased since my heart is in missions!) Some of the conferences were more like celebrations than a conference. Some of the conferences were clearly the highlight of the year for that church. It was easy to see they invested a lot of time, effort, and money. They sacrificed because that's where their heart is. Missions. You didn't have to drag the members to the conference. They were excited to attend! They were invested!
And for us missionary women, wives, and families, many great memories were made. Our family STILL sits around the dinner table talking about some of those conferences. They made an impact when we attended. They touched our hearts and lives. They encouraged us and still encourage us today.
So what things really stick out to us missionary women? What brings happy memories and thoughts as we look back at these special moments?
I asked this question to a great group of missionary women:
"What were some of your favorite Missions Conference ideas that you ran across while visiting churches?"
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Bacon Potato Salad
Everyone has a potato salad recipe passed down from their mother or their grandmother,
or their second cousin twice-removed, but somehow this phenomenon skipped me.
So, I made my own, though I've tweaked it over the years for my husband who hates
really any kind of "normal" potato salad.
And we do have one simple rule when creating in the kitchen--Everything is better with bacon!
Cook until crispy, drain, crumble, and set aside.
For a recipe of 6 potatoes, 5-6 stalks of green onion will do. I use the greens and the whites. Chop and set aside.
This is where I stopped taking pictures of prep work, so you'll have to use your imagination. Hold back some of your crumbled bacon and green onions for the top, but throw everything else in the bowl. If you have access to sour cream, I like to use half sour cream, half real mayonnaise. For 6 potatoes, you will only need about 2-3 tbsp. each, but you can add more or less depending on your families' texture preferences. Because we don't have sour cream here, I use all mayo, but splash in a tablespoon of plain vinegar.
I prefer the taste of dill, but don't always have access, so you can add or leave it out. Add salt, and refrigerate until serving. This recipe keeps well, so make it the day before if needed. Enjoy!
Bacon Potato Salad
serves 6
6 medium sized potatoes, washed, cubed
5-6 stalks of green onion, diced
1/2 pound of bacon, fried, drained and crumbled
2 Tbsp. Sour Cream
2 Tbsp. Mayonnaise (or omit Sour Cream, double mayo, and add 1 Tbsp. vinegar)
1 tsp. dill
Salt to taste
Boil potatoes in salted water until tender, and not quite to mashed potato stage. Drain, and set aside. Fry bacon, drain, and crumble. Chop green onions, and set aside a small amount for garnish along with a small amount of the crumbled bacon. Combine all remaining ingredients, adjusting the mayo/sour cream mixture to attain desired creaminess . Can be served right away or up to a day ahead.
Monday, March 10, 2014
The Many Jobs of a Missionary ~ Linguist, Part 1
This job goes without saying. Pun intended! :)
Missionaries must learn the language of the people they are ministering to!
When my husband arrived in South Africa in 2004 to work in the villages of the Tsonga people (before we were married), he knew no other missionaries working with the Tsonga people who could teach him the language. There was no language school or Rosetta Stone digital course.
Thankfully, South Africa's national language is English, so several of the nationals had a working grasp of English, some better than others. Seth asked a national pastor that was his sole link to the village to teach him Tsonga. This worked--like a broken wheel--bumpy and uncomfortable for both.
The national pastor, although fluent of course in his native tongue, did not know how to explain the rules and logic of Tsonga to a non-native learner. Would you know how to explain the logic of English to an ESL speaker? And Seth did not know at the time how to teach another person to teach him the language. (Now we have a much better idea of how to tutor someone to tutor us!) Eventually in frustration, the pastor explained that Tsonga was like Greek--no rules, see? Okay, so Seth was back on his own.
Again thankfully, those stronger and better than us had gone before. Swiss missionaries translated the entire Bible into Tsonga in 1907, and so Seth had a Bible and a dictionary in Tsonga, which helped immensely.
My favorite missionary heroes are those linguists who pull a language out of the air and put it into writing for the first time--who labor for years to put the Bible into someone else's language. How can we measure the worth of those who have gone before us making our work so much easier? My eyes teared up recently reading a book for children about missionary translation work called God Speaks Numanggang, by missionary-turned-homeschool-curriculum-provider David Hazell. Frontline missionaries who sweat to translate the Bible are heroes. Praise them with great praise!
So Seth read through Romans and other books of the Bible verse by verse with teen boys, trying to match his accent to their tone. But he still didn't understand the structure of the language.
Well
into his first year, he received a tip from an Afrikaner (white South
Africans--another thing to be thankful for in this country!) about
another Afrikaner who worked for the South African Bible Society for
years, mainly in the Venda language, another language prevalent in the
villages around us. This man helped to translate the second version of
the Venda Bible. He could even preach in Venda. Seth got his contact
details and went to visit him.
This was the
game-changer. In order to learn the language, we often need help from
those who have already done it! This man told Seth of a little grammar
book that the old Swiss missionaries had written called Everyday Tsonga, which Seth could purchase at a little Indian shop in a nearby town.
Seth did that immediately, and it opened up to him the structure of the sub-Saharan languages--the African languages south of the Saharan desert. Lesson 7--oh how we praise God for it! It's called "Classes of Nouns and Their Prefixes." Exciting, huh? :)
Each lesson had a grammatical term with a "rule" listed underneath. Yes. Every language has rules. :) Here's how lesson 7's rule began: "In Tsonga...all nouns are divided into different classes....It is important that this system of noun-classes should be mastered thoroughly, as it is the key to a correct speaking of the language. As we progress, we shall see that any adjective, pronoun, or verb, which stands in relation to a certain noun in a sentence, is connected with that noun by means of the repetition of its prefix in one form or another; so that one can say that it is the noun, which rules the whole sentence." The lesson goes on to give examples.
Oh, sweet relief! To our English minds, the verb really rules the sentence. We had no concept for nouns ruling the sentence. But African languages are riddled with tiny little words called "concords" that connect subjects to verbs, get attached to adjectives, and act as the pronoun. If you don't know the concordial system, you can't learn the language!
For example:
In English, we would say, "The bread is good." But in Tsonga, they say, "The bread it is good." And the "it" changes depending on what the subject is. "It" also changes for adjectives like "big" or "small."
Before this grammar book, Seth could not figure out the rhyme or reason for all of these little words throughout the Tsonga language. He would try one version of "it," only to be told that for "bread" it was "xi." So then he would apply "xi" to a person or a table, only to be told that it was "u" or "ri" respectively. He was constantly guessing wrong and didn't know what all those little words meant to the language. It was utterly confusing. Now it seems so obvious to us--now that we have the key!
Since then, we have both learned Tsonga (almost fluently) and bits of Venda (which I have forgotten, but Seth can speak passingly), and now Seth is trying to pick up bits of Shona in order to reach some of the Zimbabweans who have flooded our province of South Africa. Each succeeding African language is easier to learn after jumping the hurdle of the first one.
If you look back on your life, I'm sure you have your own stories of God's providence--literally, His "seeing before." How we learned Tsonga is one story in which we bless God for His providence--His "seeing before" in providing those clever Swiss missionaries to translate the Bible, publish a Tsonga grammar book (in English!), and guiding our steps to meet the people who would introduce us to the grammar.
And now we have begun on our journey to being a linguist--one of the most important jobs of a missionary!
How did you learn the language?
More to come...
Missionaries must learn the language of the people they are ministering to!
When my husband arrived in South Africa in 2004 to work in the villages of the Tsonga people (before we were married), he knew no other missionaries working with the Tsonga people who could teach him the language. There was no language school or Rosetta Stone digital course.
Thankfully, South Africa's national language is English, so several of the nationals had a working grasp of English, some better than others. Seth asked a national pastor that was his sole link to the village to teach him Tsonga. This worked--like a broken wheel--bumpy and uncomfortable for both.
The national pastor, although fluent of course in his native tongue, did not know how to explain the rules and logic of Tsonga to a non-native learner. Would you know how to explain the logic of English to an ESL speaker? And Seth did not know at the time how to teach another person to teach him the language. (Now we have a much better idea of how to tutor someone to tutor us!) Eventually in frustration, the pastor explained that Tsonga was like Greek--no rules, see? Okay, so Seth was back on his own.
Again thankfully, those stronger and better than us had gone before. Swiss missionaries translated the entire Bible into Tsonga in 1907, and so Seth had a Bible and a dictionary in Tsonga, which helped immensely.
My favorite missionary heroes are those linguists who pull a language out of the air and put it into writing for the first time--who labor for years to put the Bible into someone else's language. How can we measure the worth of those who have gone before us making our work so much easier? My eyes teared up recently reading a book for children about missionary translation work called God Speaks Numanggang, by missionary-turned-homeschool-curriculum-provider David Hazell. Frontline missionaries who sweat to translate the Bible are heroes. Praise them with great praise!
So Seth read through Romans and other books of the Bible verse by verse with teen boys, trying to match his accent to their tone. But he still didn't understand the structure of the language.
Seth did that immediately, and it opened up to him the structure of the sub-Saharan languages--the African languages south of the Saharan desert. Lesson 7--oh how we praise God for it! It's called "Classes of Nouns and Their Prefixes." Exciting, huh? :)
Each lesson had a grammatical term with a "rule" listed underneath. Yes. Every language has rules. :) Here's how lesson 7's rule began: "In Tsonga...all nouns are divided into different classes....It is important that this system of noun-classes should be mastered thoroughly, as it is the key to a correct speaking of the language. As we progress, we shall see that any adjective, pronoun, or verb, which stands in relation to a certain noun in a sentence, is connected with that noun by means of the repetition of its prefix in one form or another; so that one can say that it is the noun, which rules the whole sentence." The lesson goes on to give examples.
Oh, sweet relief! To our English minds, the verb really rules the sentence. We had no concept for nouns ruling the sentence. But African languages are riddled with tiny little words called "concords" that connect subjects to verbs, get attached to adjectives, and act as the pronoun. If you don't know the concordial system, you can't learn the language!
For example:
In English, we would say, "The bread is good." But in Tsonga, they say, "The bread it is good." And the "it" changes depending on what the subject is. "It" also changes for adjectives like "big" or "small."
Before this grammar book, Seth could not figure out the rhyme or reason for all of these little words throughout the Tsonga language. He would try one version of "it," only to be told that for "bread" it was "xi." So then he would apply "xi" to a person or a table, only to be told that it was "u" or "ri" respectively. He was constantly guessing wrong and didn't know what all those little words meant to the language. It was utterly confusing. Now it seems so obvious to us--now that we have the key!
Since then, we have both learned Tsonga (almost fluently) and bits of Venda (which I have forgotten, but Seth can speak passingly), and now Seth is trying to pick up bits of Shona in order to reach some of the Zimbabweans who have flooded our province of South Africa. Each succeeding African language is easier to learn after jumping the hurdle of the first one.
If you look back on your life, I'm sure you have your own stories of God's providence--literally, His "seeing before." How we learned Tsonga is one story in which we bless God for His providence--His "seeing before" in providing those clever Swiss missionaries to translate the Bible, publish a Tsonga grammar book (in English!), and guiding our steps to meet the people who would introduce us to the grammar.
And now we have begun on our journey to being a linguist--one of the most important jobs of a missionary!
How did you learn the language?
More to come...