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?

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.  

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 Scriptures - Luke 18:16

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.

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.

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:

"What were some of your favorite Missions Conference ideas that you ran across while visiting churches?"

Wednesday's Wonderings...

Please Share some tips on how to make Homeschooling on the Field enjoyable for your children.