tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66783239119640082382024-03-02T00:39:17.422-08:00Ben and Susie ThomasOur life and ministry in Kigali, RwandaSusiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09063029032695060303noreply@blogger.comBlogger137125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-91023047372249588052018-03-29T02:04:00.000-07:002018-03-29T02:04:42.355-07:00On teaching, and learning, and knowing God<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://media.wnyc.org/i/200/0/l/80/1/OscyllarusmaleMaxilla_JwAEKI5.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="196" data-original-width="200" src="https://media.wnyc.org/i/200/0/l/80/1/OscyllarusmaleMaxilla_JwAEKI5.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Image: Roy Caldwell</i></td></tr>
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Here's the thing. I've always been a smarty-pants. School was pretty easy for me, but more importantly, I always loved it. Learning gives me a rush that a roller coaster never will. My favorite thing about college, other than the friendship of Kristy, was actually the classes. Speaking of college, my boyfriend at the time, in the process of dumping me, accused me of knowing God in my head but not my heart. I was pretty mad about that. But, it also caused me to wonder: is that true? There's this old book, <i>Eighteen inches to Heaven</i> that puts forward this idea that believing in God in your head isn't enough. Is that true? What does that mean?<br />
Truly, I've always been pretty heady. My thoughts don't ever stop. My emotions are often slow to catch up. I even DECIDED to fall in love with Ben because I KNEW in my head it would be the biggest mistake of my life not to. My brain leads and the rest of me follows. Does that mean I don't love God for real?<br />
Due to that unfortunate accusation and some other Christian thoughts on the topic in the years since, I've often stopped to check in with myself on this whole head-knowledge thing. But, here's the thing.<br />
God has been faithful to answer my insecurities. I John 3 says "for whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart and he knows everything." My maker knows my frame and he deigns to reveal himself to me in a personal way through thinking, information, and curiosity. He draws near to me in a classroom.<br />
A new friend and co-worker recently introduced me to this podcast, <i>RadioLab. </i>It's a thrilling (for me) mix of humor, curiosity, and scholarship. They ask ridiculous questions (Do plants have brains? Which animal sees the best rainbow?) and then dig into answers. And every episode leaves me smiling -- and worshiping. And so eager to rush back to my classroom and usher my students into this crazy-cool way of knowing God - through learning. The podcast is certainly not "Christian," but it is God-revealing because of its dogged pursuit of truth in random places.<br />
My fifth graders are reading <i>The Phantom Tollbooth</i> right now, which is the best book. It's a classic, so maybe you've read it. It's a sort of secular/academic/juvenile Pilgrim's Progress. The character, Milo, tries to reach Infinity, which of course he can't because..... .... .... .... ....<br />
And, so, as a class, we stopped to contemplate Infinity's impossibility. Is there anything more worship-inducing than the Big Truths that are impossible to truly understand?<br />
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So, my favorite podcast was nearing the end of its investigation into the <a href="http://www.radiolab.org/story/rippin-the-rainbow-an-even-newer-one/" target="_blank">rainbows-as-seen-by-mantis-shrimp</a>, and one of the guys (who I like to consider my new friends) mentions this concept of "uumwelt," which means that we are each limited by our own experience of the world - essentially the opposite of inifinity. So, we can't actually know what the mantis shrimp sees, and we can't actually understand God's infinite-ness (that's my own application, not my friend's). But, then, the other host, says, "But, we can try. It's certainly fun to try."<br />
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And, that's it. My faith when it is most piqued, most alive. God is outside my uunwelt, and I can't understand him the way I want to. But, it's certainly fun to try.<br />
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And, you know what? This morning, after reading about Milo's fruitless quest for Infinity, I introduced my students to mantis shrimp, and uumwelt, and the excitement of Seeking Truth, and God was right here in this classroom.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-23388729355520051122017-11-10T01:17:00.000-08:002017-11-10T01:17:29.019-08:00Culture SquishYes, it’s been over a year since I’ve written. Lots of good reasons for that. But today’s a family favorite - the Parade of Nations at KICS.<br />
What beauty is found in watching hundreds of people, mostly children, proudly showing off the traditions of their homes. At a school like KICS, the display is particularly dazzling. I’m writing this while my fifth graders take a test, and I see one Korean hanbok, six Rwandan mishinana on both boys and girls, one Malawian dress, lots of football jerseys that represent different countries, and my friend Muthoni who helps me every day is wearing a beautiful Kenyan dress. My Canadians are sporting maple leaf tattoos and my Ghanaian will get dressed later.<br />
Pictures will come later, but the beauty isn’t in the fabric or the texture or the color. The beauty of today is the Image of God on display as He intended it. God chose from the beginning that we should not make images of him, because He gave us His image in billions of different ways when he gave us each other.<br />
Yes, the best way I can know God is through his Holy Word and indwelling Holy Spirit. But, I’m missing a chance to know Him if I look past, over, or down on any of the images that He made of Himself.<br />
If there’s anything I’ve learned over the past eighteen years of my life, it’s that this process of knowing God better through loving those different from me produces beautiful results, but is uncomfortable.<br />
We’ve all heard the term culture shock, and that’s still something I experience yearly in my visits to the States and try to choose yogurt at the grocery store.<br />
But today, as I was watching my students sing and dance to their favorite band <a href="http://www.wearerun51.com/" target="_blank">Run51</a> performing God’s Great Dance Floor, I realized that the shock is temporary; it’s the squish that stays with you forever.<br />
As people, I believe we only have natural space for one culture, or point of view. And so, I explained to my fifth graders, when I met dr. Thomas, I had to make room for his culture by squishing mine own aside. As you can imagine, this wasn’t easy for either of us, but I wasn’t the only one squishing. My in-laws also had to squish to make room for me and my ideas and ways of looking at things. My squishing naturally asked my family to squish too. Ben didn’t have to squish too much, but he did have to witness all his loved ones squishing and sometimes (me) whining about it.<br />
But it’s in the squish that Christ is most revealed, because He not only asks it if us, but modeled it for us. Actually, that’s not true. What he modeled was “emptying himself,” which is far more than just making space for marshmallows on the sweet potatoes, or learning a few words in a new language.<br />
And so I can’t wait to to go to the parade this afternoon and I’ll certainly shed some tears when the flags of Rwanda and India come down. Because, not only have I had the joy of squishing for them, they’ve squished so much more for me.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-21397926772308298202016-01-07T02:06:00.001-08:002016-01-07T02:06:11.361-08:00We love this place - and think you might too!As we celebrate a new year, we look ahead to a new school year - one where KICS is doing a lot of growing, and we are looking for just the right people to join us on mission here in Rwanda - teaching kids from over 20 countries! This is a really amazing place full of interesting people and a place we are thrilled to be raising our kids. I'd like to take a minute to list our upcoming job openings here. Please see our <a href="http://www.kicsrw.org/" target="_blank">website</a> for benefit packages and other such details.<br />
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PRIMARY (In other words, working with <b>our</b> kids, who, though not perfect, are adorable):<br />
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<ul>
<li>PreK Teacher-Leader</li>
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<tr><td><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M0a6ZqXjiLc/Vo4xNIrhxRI/AAAAAAAABDw/MKJdQ9aeMcM/s1600/IMG_2108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M0a6ZqXjiLc/Vo4xNIrhxRI/AAAAAAAABDw/MKJdQ9aeMcM/s200/IMG_2108.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">your future pre-K student<br /></td></tr>
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<li>PreK Teacher</li>
<li>Kindergarten Teacher</li>
<li>Grade 1 Teacher</li>
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<tr><td><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DMyqB98BG-o/Vo4xvW1ZHQI/AAAAAAAABEI/c5UCtg_A5DQ/s1600/IMG_2238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DMyqB98BG-o/Vo4xvW1ZHQI/AAAAAAAABEI/c5UCtg_A5DQ/s200/IMG_2238.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">your future grade 1 student<br /></td></tr>
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<li>Grade 2 Teacher</li>
<li>English Language Learner Teacher</li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GPbc-ooZt1A/Vo4ya1qP81I/AAAAAAAABEU/mJmahWkXFRk/s1600/IMG_2290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 13px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GPbc-ooZt1A/Vo4ya1qP81I/AAAAAAAABEU/mJmahWkXFRk/s200/IMG_2290.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Primary Art benefits include portraits of you</td></tr>
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<li>Primary Art Teacher (yes, this is where I've been filling in this year, and while I've loved it and am willing to continue, I'd love to use my time elsewhere.) </li>
<li>Primary Foreign Language Teacher</li>
<li>English Language Learner - Special Education Teacher</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
SECONDARY<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>High School Language Arts Teacher</li>
<li>High School Math Teacher</li>
<li>High School Social Studies Teacher</li>
<li>Middle School Language Arts Teacher</li>
<li>Librarian/Media specialist</li>
</ul>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-2006678195668704242015-09-02T10:37:00.000-07:002015-09-02T10:37:27.952-07:00Forty Days of Prayer<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As the new school year begins, it has been impressed upon several at KICS, notably Ben, that we need to engage in a season of prayer. Of course, we would always begin a new year with prayer, but it seems God is calling us to really focus and extend that this year. And we'd like to ask you to join us. Ben asked Eric Davenport, our Spiritual Life Coordinator, to put something together to help guide us through this. Technically, this started yesterday on September 1, but you can join in right now. We are praying primarily for these 4 things:</span><br />
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<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for God's work in all the students, staff, families, communities, and the countries represented in our school.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for God's physical and spiritual protection of all students, staff, families and community.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for God's wisdom for this school year.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for God's plans for KICS's future.</span></li>
</ol>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eric has provided a different set of scriptures to use as we pray each day. I have listed them below and will post them on my Facebook page daily. If you are not friends with me, please "like" Kigali International Community School, as I will be posting them there also. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks for praying with us.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tuesday, 1 September (Day 1):</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 9, Isaiah 55:11, Luke 1:37</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wednesday, 2 September (Day 2):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 100, John 14:13-14, John 16:23-26</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thursday, 3 September (Day 3):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 124, I John 4:16-18</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friday, 4 September (Day 4):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 86, Proverbs 3:5-6, Philippians 4:6-7 </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Saturday, 5 September (Day 5):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 46, Proverbs 2:6-11, Psalm 32:7</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sunday, 6 September (Day 6):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Exodus 15:1-3, 6-7, 11, 13; Psalm 18:30-31; Revelation 3:7b-8</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Monday, 7 September (Day 7):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 5:1-8, 11-12; II Timothy 1:7; Psalm 46:10</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tuesday, 8 September (Day 8):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 81:8-13, Psalm 42</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wednesday, 9 September (Day 9):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 27, Psalm 63</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thursday, 10 September (Day 10):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 21:11-13, I John 4:4, Psalm 55:22</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friday, 11 September (Day 11):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">II Thessalonians 3:1-5; Psalm 31:3-4, 8; Psalm 37:5-7, 39-40</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Saturday, 12 September (Day 12):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 68:1-6, Psalm 138:7-8, Isaiah 54:7</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sunday, 13 September (Day 13):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 73:23-28, Psalm 143</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Monday, 14 September (Day 14):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Isaiah 40</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tuesday, 15 September (Day 15):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 90, Isaiah 30:18, II Chronicles 6:9a</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wednesday, 16 September (Day 16):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 62:1-2; John 17:11, 14-20; Ephesians 6:10-20</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thursday, 17 September (Day 17):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 20; Proverbs 9:10-12</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friday, 18 September (Day 18):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Proverbs 4:23-27; Psalm 25</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Saturday, 19 September (Day 19):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 33</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sunday, 20 September (Day 20):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 34</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Monday, 21 September (Day 21):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 66</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tuesday, 22 September (Day 22):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 91</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wednesday, 23 September (Day 23):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 92</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thursday, 24 September (Day 24):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 101; Psalm 127</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friday, 25 September (Day 25):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 113:1-4, Isaiah 41:10, James 1:2-8</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Saturday, 26 September (Day 26):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 108:1-5, Isaiah 58:12, I Peter 1:3-9</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sunday, 27 September (Day 27):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 95:1-7a, Romans 8:26-27, II Chronicles 7:14-15</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Monday, 28 September (Day 28):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Daniel 2:19b-21; Romans 8:31-39; Romans 15:13</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tuesday, 29 September (Day 29):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">James 4:7-10; I Peter 2:13-17; Jeremiah 29:5-7; Job 34:18-19, 23-24, 29-30</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wednesday, 30 September (Day 30):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I Peter 5:5-11, Colossians 3:12-17</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thursday, 1 October (Day 31):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Colossians 3:23-24, Philippians 2:1-11, Ephesians 3:20-21</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friday, 2 October (Day 32):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 19, Philippians 2:13-16a, Jeremiah 32:27</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Saturday, 3 October (Day 33):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jeremiah 32:17-19, Psalm 14</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sunday, 4 October (Day 34):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 11</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Monday, 5 October (Day 35):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 15</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tuesday, 6 October (Day 36):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Proverbs 16:3, Matthew 9:36-38, II Corinthians 9:10-11, Galatians 6:9, Matthew 7:7-8, John 15:5-8</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wednesday, 7 October (Day 37):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 16:1-9</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thursday, 8 October (Day 38):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 17</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friday, 9 October (Day 39):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 18</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Saturday, 10 October (Day 40):</span></b></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Psalm 23</span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-12629358374217515082015-08-05T12:52:00.001-07:002015-08-05T12:52:57.927-07:00Rwanda Moments: Eddie<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Eddie is our guard/ outside worker. He is a man who has lived and worked at our home since we hired him a year ago when we moved here. He is a night-guard/handyman/gopher/playmate-for-our-kids/new-sparring-partner-for-Ben. He is one of my most favorite people in Rwanda, and today God used him to give me an illustration of the way God sometimes works.</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">One of the material blessings of our home is consistent hot water. Our hot water heater always seems to be working, and always seems to be “on.” (In India, we needed to flip a switch on whatever heater we wanted to use about 15 minutes before a shower)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">The other day, the light on the heater was off and the water was cold. Not a life-or-death matter, but certainly one that affects the mood of the house (ok, mostly me). It seemed that the problem was in the switch that controls the heater - it can’t be flipped - it’s stuck in position, and the water heater light remains dark. Surprisingly, I happened to take a shower yesterday and it was hot, and the heater seemed to be working perfectly. By the time Ben came home for a shower, the light was off and the switch was stuck. This morning, he used the shower anyway and said the water was hot. We puzzled over what new kink Rwanda was throwing at us, and left it alone. I suggested to Ben that he ask Eddie to fix the switch, but all day I’ve been messing with it, and the switch won’t budge.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">This afternoon, Eddie stopped in the house to ask me if the water was working. I said, no, the switch won’t flip. He said, try the water.... I felt like Peter being asked to fish on the other side of the boat, but I did it. And, just like Peter, I was surprised to feel hot water streaming out of the shower. Eddie didn’t fix the switch; he fixed the hot water. And, really, hot water was the problem, not a stuck switch. But, I was so fixated on that stupid stuck switch.</span><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">I am reminded of my prayers, when I ask God to fix a problem that I see that needs addressing. Sometimes, in His goodness, He shows me that the “problem” I see isn’t the real problem, and he fixes the real issue. If I remain focused on my request, I might think He’s not answering me, but He is, with a more complete answer than I knew I needed. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-15293970090891476762015-07-02T07:26:00.002-07:002015-07-02T07:26:49.731-07:00FourthThe weekend is coming, and so Independence Day celebrations are in full effect. This date is special in both of our home countries - Independence Day in the United States is also Liberation Day in Rwanda - the day the 1994 genocide was ended. But, right? There's always a "but." <br />
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Because, in the US, among other things, churches burn. In Rwanda, people still suffer from fear and distrust and insecurity.<br />
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Independence, Liberty, Justice, the ideals that much of humanity would be willing to fight for, are not ever ultimately won with wars. <br />
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We happen to be in the US, so we will be experiencing the Fourth celebrations from this side of the planet. Yesterday, we took the kids into Philly to see the Liberty Bell - one of those touristy things that we'd never done. While we waited in the long line, we viewed displays about civil rights. You see, the Liberty Bell originally hung in the Pennsylvania Statehouse, just meters away from our country's original "White House" - and the place where many slaves were imprisoned. The exhibit reminded us that the Liberty Bell stands for both liberties won and liberties withheld. At the time the Liberty Bell was paraded around the country, expanding its notable crack, slavery was legal, women weren't allowed to vote, interracial marriage was a crime, etc. And today, two hundred years later, churches burn. <br />
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Liberty & Justice for all.<br />
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It's been an intense week on facebook since the SCOTUS ruling. I won't go into my own feelings and opinions here (although I always love an interesting in-person discussion), but I do want to explore one of the ideas I find difficult. Many of my facebook friends lament the dying of the "values this country was built on," and suggest God's coming judgment. What has been circling my brain of late - and was brought to the surface at the Liberty Bell - is that there is a difference between ideals and values. The American ideal might be liberty and justice for all. But the values demonstrated by both history and current events include racism, sexism, and materialism. This country (and all of us on this spinning planet) certainly deserve God's judgment, but a ruling on gay marriage doesn't strike me as more worthy of judgment than much of the chapter titles of our history textbooks or the headlines of our newspapers. <br />
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Liberty & Justice for all must be granted in our hearts before it can become real in our land. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-52646957220257450602015-06-04T21:47:00.000-07:002015-06-07T03:56:01.645-07:00Closing Time<h4>
<i>"Time for you to go out to the places you will be from."</i></h4>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0NW8Go_Dc2w/VXEpNyKqjBI/AAAAAAAABBY/iYnggEK7tNw/s1600/Groupcaptoss2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0NW8Go_Dc2w/VXEpNyKqjBI/AAAAAAAABBY/iYnggEK7tNw/s320/Groupcaptoss2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo by Louise Koonce (KICS)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Referencing a song made popular in 1998 as I think about graduation dates me as either really young or really old, depending on how old <b>you</b> are I guess.<br />
But, for real. Ben just handed diplomas to 10 bright young people who for probably ten different reasons went to high school in Kigali, Rwanda. Before they left, we got to have them over for dinner and it was fun to hear their dreams for their lives. One wants to be a pilot. One a human rights lawyer. One a golfer. I'm not sure what Phoebe actually wants to do, but I've seen enough of her work to know that she will make the world more <br />
beautiful. Ten stories that began in all parts of the world, converged here for a breath, and are being launched out to make a difference.<br />
These ten will grow old. They will likely get married and have jobs and bills and kids. They will probably answer this question a million times: "Where are you from?" And, only a couple of them will say, "Kigali, Rwanda." For others this was a stopping point on a journey full of stopping points. For some, like me, they could grow up somewhere practically their whole life, but make a new life somewhere else that becomes their "from."<br />
Ben and I have long argued where we're "from." Being a New Yorker, he's reluctant to claim any other place as his - even if he's lived there FOR TWELVE YEARS with the LOVE OF HIS LIFE and brought FOUR BABIES HOME to that place. (no, I'm totally fine with it.) Having my hometown ripped away from me as an adult, and then finding community in a place for twelve years with the love of my life and my four babies made Ohio my "from."<br />
And now, by God's grace, Rwanda is becoming my kids' <i>from</i>. There's a saying in the circle of third-culture and missionary kids: "Home is where you unpack your suitcase." We are about to live that saying out in new ways in the coming weeks as we unzip bags in France, Long Island, Philly, Fairborn, and Lake George.<br />
Between Ben's allegiance to New York and my dying dream to become the Fairborn mayor, this will not ever be our <i>from</i>. But it has sure become our home.<br />
For these graduates, who aren't kids anymore, I am excited to see them go out to the places they will be from. I hope for some of them, it ends up being right here.<br />
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We got to celebrate our fourteenth anniversary of marriage the same week we celebrated our first school year at KICS. Happy anniversary to us, wherever we're from.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-31441518706531250152015-04-07T09:26:00.000-07:002015-04-07T09:26:25.182-07:00Kwibuka 21 - Learn with us<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.kwibuka.rw/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/social-media-profile-icon-1-done.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.kwibuka.rw/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/social-media-profile-icon-1-done.jpg" /></a></div>
April 7, 1994 is the day that the Genocide against the Tutsis began in Rwanda, and each year on this date, the country takes a day to remember and reflect. For the past five years, we have mourned with Rwanda on this day - from afar. Today, we have the privilege and heartache of personal experience in this city and country where so many died and people still suffer as a result. We look out our windows onto roads and hills that were once stained with blood. We have friends who survived it. We know missionaries who had to evacuate and then returned. We have co-workers to mourn with. We have memorials to visit. <div>
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But, our small experience is not enough. We have the responsibility to keep learning and we invite you to join us. Do you remember 1994? Ben and I were in high school and really had no idea what was happening. What did you hear on the news? Tribal warfare? Just another problem in Africa? Nothing? </div>
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We ask you to take some time this month to learn about the Genocide in Rwanda, and the role the world played in ignoring it - causing exponentially more deaths. Below are some recommended films and books you can check out. It is important to remember that none of these tell the whole story, and that everything has a bias or the potential for inaccuracy. But each of these resources are an important reminder that this happened. And, unless you are a random under-21-year-old reader of our blog, it happened while you were living and breathing on this same planet.</div>
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FILMS</div>
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<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Hotel-Rwanda-Don-Cheadle/dp/B0007R4T3U/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1428423152&sr=8-2&keywords=hotel+rwanda" target="_blank">Hotel Rwanda</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sometimes-April-Various/dp/B0007R4SYU/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1428423152&sr=8-3&keywords=hotel+rwanda" target="_blank">Sometimes in April</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Kinyarwanda-Cassandra-Freeman/dp/B007FMCEOG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1428423258&sr=8-1&keywords=kinyarwanda" target="_blank">Kinyarwanda</a></li>
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BOOKS</div>
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<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rwanda-Inc-Devastated-Economic-Developing/dp/1137278951/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1428423294&sr=8-1&keywords=rwanda+inc" target="_blank">Rwanda, Inc.</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Thousand-Hills-Rwandas-Rebirth-Dreamed/dp/0470120150/ref=pd_bxgy_b_img_y" target="_blank">A Thousand Hills</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Left-Tell-Discovering-Rwandan-Holocaust/dp/1401944329/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1428423456&sr=1-1&keywords=left+to+tell" target="_blank">Left to Tell</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Im-Not-Leaving-Carl-Wilkens-ebook/dp/B0068K6SIE/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1428423503&sr=1-1&keywords=I%27m+not+leaving" target="_blank">I'm Not Leaving </a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Wish-Inform-Tomorrow-Killed-Families/dp/0312243359/ref=pd_sim_b_1?ie=UTF8&refRID=0YP4FH9HX7HWTWGH0KPB" target="_blank">We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families</a></li>
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WEBSITES</div>
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<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.kwibuka.rw/learn" target="_blank">Kwibuka</a> (this site has a more extensive list of reources).</li>
<li><a href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/evil/etc/slaughter.html" target="_blank">PBS timeline of the genocide</a></li>
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What an important week to celebrate that Jesus conquered death!</div>
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*Kwibuka means "remember"</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-88594466209120118372015-03-20T08:43:00.001-07:002015-03-20T08:43:09.885-07:00thirty-sixIt's my birthday and I generally think it's tacky to call attention to that, but Facebook always has, and I think there are extenuating circumstances here. Like, this is the first birthday that I legitimately beat some medical odds to make it to. And, not only am I alive and breathing; I am LIVING happily and healthfully with my most beautiful family in one of the most beautiful countries in the world. I am in love with my husband, and thanks to His Supernatural intervention in my heart, I am more in love with Jesus today than I was a year ago.<br />
Today was the first time I've articulated to the kids how serious my sickness was, and that today is a gift that we don't take for granted. I'm on my way to celebrate with friends I love, and I don't take them for granted either, because we were strangers a year ago - except for my dearest Thompsons, and this is my first birthday to celebrate with even them.<br />
This is also a day I miss my loved ones in the States. GiGi's cupcakes and Los Mariachis and trashy television is how we'd probably be celebrating.<br />
I have to confess some insecurities at crossing the hump into the second half of my thirties, but I hereby resolve to never grumble about getting old - and maybe I'll even stop pulling out my grays.<br />
xoxo - go enjoy a cupcake that is dwarfed by its frosting for me!<br />
SusieUnknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-55469610936282524852015-01-20T22:12:00.002-08:002015-01-20T22:12:42.973-08:00Cross-Cultural Lessons: AdorationAnyone who has traveled or lived cross-culturally (whether in their home country or abroad) should be able to share more about lessons learned than lessons taught. If I can't do that, something is wrong. This Sunday, I was able to reflect on what cross-cultural living has taught me about adoration.<br />
As with most things, the journey to the obvious was long and twisty.<br />
A synopsis of the beginning of the story is that I am terrible at adoration in prayer in worship. My mind wanders, I lose interest, and I even begin to feel it is pointless. The sinful train of thought goes something like, "God knows He's great, I know He's great, what are we talking about here?" Even as a young girl, armed with the acrostic ACTS, I got so stuck on the A and wanted to skip to Confession, Thanksgiving and Supplication. Adoration seems so redundant, and so obvious.<br />
There is quite clearly sin in this attitude. Also, though, there is the natural way my brain works - to tease the nuance out of something, to want to wrestle with the complicated, to exercise curiosity and wondering, to discover new things rather than dwell on the familiar.<br />
So, in my personal prayer, adoration is rushed - the prayer equivalent of a head nod instead of a bear hug. In corporate prayer, while someone else is adoring, I'm daydreaming or (at my worst) judging.<br />
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You all know that my first foray into crossing culture in a significant way was marrying Ben. Guys, I had some ugly missteps in navigating this as a young adult - the epitome of a selfish, arrogant American, believing that my husband's culture was "behind," as was their theology. My parents-in-law can PRAY. They can and do pray continually, for everything and everyone. And, they worship. They spend solid minutes reciting to God what is great about him. They do it with tears and repetition, and do not seem to tire of restatement. They never believe that they've overstated Truth.<br />
And, I'll be honest. That tends to drive me crazy. I'm an antsy, selfish toddler, wanting to go to the next step, and then to amen, and then to out-the-door.<br />
****<br />
A few months ago, I began reading a book with friends. <a href="http://everybitterthingissweet.com/book/" target="_blank">Every Bitter Thing is Sweet</a> by Sara Hagerty. She explores the idea of adoration as an impetus to spiritual growth and depth. And she developed a pretty <a href="http://everybitterthingissweet.com/2013/09/my-birthday-gift/" target="_blank">devotional</a> to help. I tried. She warned it would feel awkward, and boy did it. It was the same old problem. My impatience with taking the time to tell God what isn't new to either of us.<br />
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On Sunday, in church, I listened to the African pastor pray. And I was struck with how he sounded just like Ben's dad - how they have in common the beautiful ability to sit in adoration. How it's not an Indian thing or an African thing, but it might just be a non-American thing. If I put aside my American values of independence and argument, might I find more freedom in prayer?<br />
Maybe it has cultural roots, maybe it doesn't; either way, I'm hoping to incorporate something new into my faith: stating the obvious, and restating it enough that it doesn't seem obvious anymore.<br />
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(Susie)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-80720048633354191102015-01-06T01:10:00.000-08:002015-01-06T01:10:19.315-08:00Happy Birthday to (and from) Ben<div class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">It's Ben's birthday today. You all know I love him. As part of his own birthday celebration, he sent this email to his parents this morning. I think it's beautiful and I hope he doesn't mind that I'm going to share it. The reason I'm sharing it is because I, too, have benefitted every day from the choices his parents have made in having and raising him. Just the fact that they moved to America in the 1970s, before Ben or I were born, changed both of our lives. That they raised him in a way that encouraged him to know and love many different kinds of people made our marriage possible. That Ben's mom saves money and plans ahead and Ben's dad does the dishes and prays always are qualities that I see in him every day. </span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">It's Ben's birthday today. There are three of us who probably celebrate that more than anyone else in the world. The ones who gave him life, and the one who shares his life. I love you, Mom & Dad Thomas!</span></span><br />
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Hi mom and dad,</span></i><i><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">As I remember my birthday today, and we celebrate with friends, I just wanted to say thanks.</span></i><i><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Thanks for the ways you have raised me and loved me throughout the course of my life. You encouraged me from a young age to be who God made me to be. It first started with playing sports. When no one else played sports you saw that I loved it and you found a way for me to play. My first team was the Tornadoes. From soccer to travel soccer to baseball to roller hockey and eventually you let me play the sport I loved the most, football. Thank you.</span></i><i><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">From sports to being able to spend time with friends when no other Malayalee parents would. You trusted me and allowed me to be make friends with non Malayalees and spend time with them.</span></i><i><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">From spending time with friends to going away to college to play football. To a college no one heard of, where no one we knew was. You knew Hobart was the place for me after the first visit.</span></i><i><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">From Hobart to sending me to Urbana, to encouraging me to go to seminary when I sensed God calling me to ministry. From there to meeting Susie and then marrying her. From marrying her to be a missionary. From being a missionary to living in ohio and then India. From India to adopting Charlie. From adopting Charlie to being the global director. From the global director to taking care of Susie, you helped me in every way. From Susie's cancer to Annie being born. From Annie to my doctoral program. From my doctoral program to Brasil and then to Rwanda.</span></i><i><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Through all of this you have raised me to trust God, to be comfortable with who God made me, and to love others. Without you raising me to trust God, I could not do all the lord has allowed us to do.</span></i><i><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">As I celebrate today in kigali, Rwanda, please know I can never thank you enough for how you raised me. I am forever grateful.</span></i><i><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I tell people in kigali all the time, I am the son of Indian immigrants who trusted God with everything.</span></i><i><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I wish I could celebrate with you today. I look forward to the day I can celebrate my birthday with you.</span></i><i><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Please know that I think of you with great thanksgiving everyday, but especially today. Every happy birthday wish to me is a reflection of both of you and how you raised me.</span></i><i><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Happy birthday, mom and dad. I love you.</span></i></blockquote>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-76081405054632771872014-12-31T10:03:00.001-08:002014-12-31T10:11:11.662-08:002014Over dinner tonight (with my parents!!! In Rwanda!!!!), team Beebe-Thomas shared our favorite memories of 2014. Here they are:<div><b>Simon</b> playing soccer at kics</div><div><b>Talya</b> Anna (friend from kindergarten in Ohio)</div><div><b>Charlie</b> having Annie (he's been a great big brother to her this year)</div><div><b>Annie</b> no comment, but my guess is it's Toddler Praise</div><div><b>Susie</b> moving to Rwanda and my parents visiting us here</div><div><b>Ben</b> traveling outside the us with me (Rwanda, Israel, Rwanda)</div><div><b>Dad Beebe </b>Mark and Kim's wedding</div><div><b>Mom Beebe</b> whole fam on the bridge for family pics</div><div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEa849d19MRuchbarcGxJALDYaoJ_yipKCuesLntf9l4qv8u51fkvyTiO534E3vwzvBLqmUW7f6BMdNUD4vJq7fihGMr0GwZkGK2RN0pBM0tw1yj5guyAVpsgt_1o4NsTj2DzGOZVVd_MC/s640/blogger-image-1483456289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEa849d19MRuchbarcGxJALDYaoJ_yipKCuesLntf9l4qv8u51fkvyTiO534E3vwzvBLqmUW7f6BMdNUD4vJq7fihGMr0GwZkGK2RN0pBM0tw1yj5guyAVpsgt_1o4NsTj2DzGOZVVd_MC/s640/blogger-image-1483456289.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">It's been a great one! On to the next 365 days that God has written in His book (psalm 139) </span></div>Susiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09063029032695060303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-63185867119865219492014-12-19T01:33:00.002-08:002014-12-19T01:33:42.526-08:00Ben is a great boss......which is one of the reasons you should consider coming to work for KICS.<div>
Other reasons are fun co-workers, a beautiful location, amazing kids, perfect weather year-round, and the opportunity to make an impact in the future of Rwanda, Africa, and the world. Also, while you'd be considered a missionary educator needing to raise support, we provide a decent service package to help with that.</div>
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Available positions are:</div>
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<ul>
<li>Grade 1 Teacher</li>
<li>Middle School Social Studies teacher</li>
<li>High School Math Teacher</li>
<li>Part-time primary music teacher</li>
<li>Foreign Language teacher</li>
<li>Primary principal</li>
<li>Instructional coordinator</li>
<li>Business manager</li>
<li>Spiritual Life Coordinator</li>
<li>School Counselor</li>
<li>Athletics and Activities Director</li>
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For more information, visit the employment <a href="http://www.kicsrw.org/KICS%20Recruitment%20Brochure.pdf" target="_blank">page</a> on the KICS website. Let us know if you're interested or <a href="http://www.kicsrw.org/employment-inquiry" target="_blank">apply now. </a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-34610648815124603982014-12-17T03:58:00.001-08:002014-12-17T03:59:27.585-08:00Gifts for Growth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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It's not too late to participate in our "Gifts for Growth" Campaign at KICS. We are 25% of the way to our $100,000 goal! Visit this <a href="http://www.rocpartners.org/KICS/projects-1" target="_blank">website</a> to make a donation. Thank you!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-61639853625583088392014-12-02T04:00:00.000-08:002014-12-02T04:00:02.372-08:00Giving Tuesday<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So, I didn't know that was a thing. I guess, just like Hallmark made up Sweetest Day to sell cards, some missionaries created Giving Tuesday to help fill in the gaps in their support. Just kidding, that's not <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giving_Tuesday" target="_blank">what happened </a>I don't think. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">But, real or not, it's here and we'd like to ask you to <span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; line-height: 15px;">consider making us part of your Year-end giving for 2014. We are so thankful for the many ways you stand with us through prayer, connection and encouragement. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">As we approach the end of this year, we have three opportunities we are a part of that we would ask you to consider giving towards:</span></div>
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<li style="margin-left: 15px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>To our personal ministry account.</b> We are full-time missionaries with CRU and as such raise all of our salary and benefits for us and our family. To give to us, please visit: <a href="http://www.give.cru.org/0539204" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">www.give.cru.org/0539204</a>. Those of you who receive our paper prayer letters will get a letter detailing our needs. </span></li>
<li style="margin-left: 15px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>To our school</b> where we are serving, Kigali International Community School. For the first time, we are leading a giving campaign to help us cover some basic literacy and technology improvements for our school. Web-Elves are working on getting our donation page up and running. If you'd like to donate towards KICS, contact us. We'll let you know when we get things running online.</span></li>
<li style="margin-left: 15px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>To a project</b> we have been involved in through our parent organization that provides food in one of the most closed countries in all the world. Through partnerships, we have been able to build a few factories that provide bread and soy milk for children. You can visit <a href="http://www.give.cru.org/0539204" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">www.give.cru.org/0539204</a> to make a donation. Once the donation is processed, Susie and I will forward the money on in an appropriate way. Please send us an email or in the comments section let us know it is for the factory.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">If you have any questions about either of these three opportunities please let us know. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">We thank you so much for considering us and the efforts we are serving with as part of your year-end giving. Please know that any amount, large or small, would be beneficial for us. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-63330271303613304852014-11-26T22:26:00.001-08:002014-11-26T22:26:48.228-08:00With GratitudeWith gratitude, I live this life in Rwanda, surrounded by beautiful faces, interesting trees, strange birds, searching hearts.<br />
With gratitude, and a side of grumpiness, I open my eyes too early in the morning to inspect a child's coloring or to give permission to get a banana.<br />
With gratitude, I scan my Facebook feed, seeing the faces of friends near and far - both of which feel like a miracle to me.<br />
With gratitude, I review my kids' progress reports, noting their achievements and gains.<br />
With gratitude, I think of their teachers - present and past - who have with love and patience inspired these.<br />
With gratitude, I miss my family and football games that I don't watch and strawberry pretzel "salad."<br />
With gratitude, I hug my husband who has made us dinner reservations tonight. With gratitude, I don't plan or shop or save or cook this year's feast.<br />
With gratitude, I brush my hair, which has grown back from the assault it suffered to chemicals and high-energy waves.<br />
With gratitude, I let Annie go to bed without making her change into her pajamas, because who cares.<br />
With gratitude, I take hot showers, flush toilets, and drink water that doesn't make me ill.<br />
With gratitude, I remember doctors, nurses, sonographers, therapists and mri techs.<br />
With gratitude, I order Christmas presents for my kids and make plans for their 7,104-mile journey.<br />
With gratitude, I pack for a Thanksgiving getaway with dear friends.<br />
With gratitude, I reflect on the power Jesus has to soften hard things, to add flesh to dry bones, to offer healing and forgiveness.<br />
With gratitude, I think of 20 students who I (<b><i><u>I!</u></i></b>) have had the privilege to teach for a short time.<br />
With gratitude, I celebrate a friend's birthday in person and a brother's birthday from afar.<br />
With gratitude, I host friends who traveled 24 hours on a bus from Kenya just to hang out with us this week.<br />
With gratitude, after my worst nightmare comes true and I bump another car with my massive beast on a rain-slicked dirt road, I drive away after she tells me it's ok.<br />
With gratitude, I try out the few Kinyarwanda words and phrases I know and breathe grace since we quit our lessons.<br />
With gratitude, I hang out with missionary friends who have long and faithfully been here, gleaning from them all I can about culture, gracious living, and joy.<br />
With gratitude, I type words into a thing called the internet and know someone will read them.<br />
With gratitude, I think of the hundreds of people who give out of their abundance or out of their own need to fund our ministry.<br />
With gratitude, I continue to repeat Ephesians out loud until I know it. Thanksgiving was my goal, but I still have two chapters to go.<br />
With gratitude, I remember you in my prayers.<br />
With gratitude, I grieve with my passport country, which is the home of grieving people this week.<br />
With gratitude, I think of every person I know who has been affected by racism and prejudice, but has shared their life and story with me, so I (someone who has known privilege) can learn and change and understand.<br />
With gratitude, I think of one of our best friends who is a white American law officer, who is brave and loyal and honest, who, just by knowing him, keeps me from being quick to assign blame.<br />
With gratitude, I am eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. (Eph 4:3)<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-20688601848759270752014-11-05T22:48:00.000-08:002014-11-05T22:48:45.414-08:00Rescuing AnnieThree days a week, when I'm teaching, Annie stays home with Grace for a couple of hours. Grace gets her dressed, feeds her breakfast, does her hair adorably and plays with her. It's like having a stay-at-home-mom only better. Yesterday, I was surprised to get a call from Grace because not much can go wrong between 7-10 am. But, my growing girl had locked herself into our bedroom. In America, that's an easy thing to do because babies love to push buttons. It's also an easy thing to fix because you grab a bobby pin off the top of the door frame and <i>pop</i>, baby is freed.<br />
In Rwanda, it's actually a bit of an achievement for a small child to lock themselves in, which is why I've never worried about it. It involves turning a key and what two year old has the attention span for that?<br />
So Grace called and said "Annie locked herself in your room." So, ok, I'm coming home. I have a key to my bedroom. But then, I remembered that we leave keys to the rooms somewhere else (not gonna tell you <i>where</i> :)!!!!!!), so I called her back and told her where the key was. Grace (who is more Rwanda-experienced than I am) reminded me that as long as Annie has a key in her side, no one can unlock the door from the outside. Crap.<br />
Theophile, one of our maintenance staff at KICS came home with me to rescue her. Of course, Annie had no idea she needed rescuing. She was chatting through the window to Grace who was outside keeping an eye on her. I'm so glad Annie didn't head to electric outlets, because there was exactly nothing Grace could have done from outside the bars except scream at her.<br />
While Eddie was hatching a scheme to squeeze Annie through the bars (impossible), Theophile disassembled the lock and Annie was rescued. I mean, I had a feeling like I was pulling up a starving Chilean miner, but of course, Annie had no idea she was stuck.<br />
Despite a whole day of reciting, "Annie no keys"and "No doors Annie," I found her stabbing our door with a key last night. Gladly, the locking mechanism had been removed.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cymo5Em-Yqw/VFsYuhfK4XI/AAAAAAAAA9E/-NZzWHlPMlk/s1600/IMG_0545.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cymo5Em-Yqw/VFsYuhfK4XI/AAAAAAAAA9E/-NZzWHlPMlk/s1600/IMG_0545.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grace babysitting from the window</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HP2XVviCx2g/VFsY-LqCoHI/AAAAAAAAA9M/1bNBTZKtBNk/s1600/IMG_0546.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HP2XVviCx2g/VFsY-LqCoHI/AAAAAAAAA9M/1bNBTZKtBNk/s1600/IMG_0546.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It wasn't until my arrival that Annie realized she couldn't get out. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-91avjXM-Vjg/VFsZCdcrO1I/AAAAAAAAA9U/FQPqqF1Tekw/s1600/IMG_0549.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-91avjXM-Vjg/VFsZCdcrO1I/AAAAAAAAA9U/FQPqqF1Tekw/s1600/IMG_0549.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can I squeeze through those bars?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-61581069748113816912014-10-21T02:22:00.002-07:002014-10-21T02:22:39.729-07:00A childhood, past and present There's something that's been brewing for a few weeks now. In it, I could sniff the potential for my kids' disappointment - the Christmas program at school. Auditions. Scripts. Acceptance. Rejection. Like with most things academic, this is not chancy for Simon. He would almost certainly get a part he auditioned for and bask in his success. For Sweet T, though, the forecast read different. Old enough to audition, but too young to read the script. Old enough to know she wanted what her big brother wants, but too young to understand her capacity. I could see it coming, and I began praying for her heart, and for my mother's shepherding of it. On the surface, there were two options: prepare her for success or prepare her for disappointment. Of course, both of those options are completely wrong. One risks building her up for a bigger fall, and one risks leading her to believe I think she isn't good enough. In speaking to a good friend about our daughters' various disappointments this school year, we chatted about how, of course we would love to protect them from Hard Things, but how so much more, we want them to know Jesus is with them in and bigger than those Hard Things.<br />
Today, my mother's intuition was semi-confirmed by a reliable source that there will be disappointment, and probably tears regarding the Christmas program. I am thankful to know before she sees the list posted without her name on it.<br />
I've spent the following couple of hours reflecting on two of my similar experiences as a child. First, was fourth grade. I was new at a small school and there were 4 girls in my class. Suzanne, Amy, Cara, and I were all each other had. I was immediately accepted by them because they didn't have a choice. The Christmas program was Psalty's Christmas (<i>Christmas is a time, Christmas is a time, Christmas is a time to looo-ooove</i>.) The auditions were for the ensemble (definition: girls who can sing). Suzanne, Amy and Cara all had (and probably still have) beautiful voices. One might think all 9 year old girls can passably sing, but not true. In fact, I didn't know I had a bad voice until I heard myself during the try-out and realized how different I sounded from the other girls. But, still, would they really cut one girl?!?!?! Yes, they would. And there I was, the only girl I knew that would be still standing on the risers when the stars took the microphone.<br />
Of course, my Dad had the power to change all of this. And he did, in a very appropriate way. He didn't demand that I get a solo, but after he talked to the teachers, I ended up in the "sign language choir" (translation: girls who suck at singing but can be taught to move their hands correctly) with the third graders. Honestly, this did help. And, as a parent and teacher myself, I think it was the best course of action. But, it didn't take away the disappointment. The circumstances changed, and I felt seen and loved and supported by my dad, but I still felt the not-enough-ness that comes when your name's not on the list.<br />
Next came fifth grade and what might turn out to be my worst day ever in my whole life. In one day, I lost the Spelling Bee (pacific. one eff, two effs, whatever, English is a dumb language) and found out I hadn't gotten a role in Pollyanna. I was crushed. It is still a memory that brings tears to my eyes.<br />
Of course, my Dad had the power to change all of this (not in any way that wouldn't end up in a lawsuit), but he didn't.<br />
Instead, when I came home and ran up to my bed after school, I found a heart-shaped box of candy and a letter scrawled on a card in a pink envelope (must have been Valentine's season). And, in the midst of my disappointment, words of love, affirmation and encouragement formed what would turn out to be the most significant memory of my childhood.<br />
That's what I want for my kids. I want them to know they are loved through every disappointment, that they are enough, that they are great. Sometimes there will be a solution that can help. But, sometimes, there will only be the words I Love You.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-81543353911342336052014-10-02T22:21:00.000-07:002014-10-02T22:21:05.751-07:00Missionary KidsI never would have planned on raising missionary kids, although as soon as I fell in love with Ben, I began to learn about what it means to be (or marry, or give birth to) "third culture kids." TCKs are people who grow up with multiple cultural identities, and this life breeds all kinds of unique strengths as well as creates some challenges.<br />
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One of the great things about staying on staff with Cru when we made this transition is that the organization cares for our entire family. When we were at our pre-field training a year ago, a couple of Cru staff members came up to visit and spend time with our kids. They encouraged them to be Missionary Kids (kids who share their faith in a new culture), as opposed to Missionaries' Kids (kids who are dragged along by their parents' jobs). They gave our kids a book called <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Peanut-Butter-Friends-Chop-World/dp/0890847517" target="_blank">Peanut Butter Friends in a Chop Suey World</a></i>, which Simon has devoured at least twice.<br />
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This week, he came into my room and asked if he could borrow some paper to make a list. Later, he requested tape so he could hang his project on his wall. This is his list: "Tips on being a successful missionary."<br />
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Obviously, I am proud of him, but what brings tears to my eyes is how pleased I am that he is embracing this experience and choosing to learn from it.<br />
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(It should go without saying that not all of our moments are rosy, but some of them are!)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-43335363013260367712014-09-26T05:40:00.001-07:002014-09-26T05:40:57.495-07:00Highlight, LowlightHighlight Lowlight is a tradition/game/conversation we try to have daily as a family. We each go around and share the best and worst part of our day. For the kids, it usually sounds like this, "My highlight is I was line leader. My lowlight was someone laughed at me."<br />
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Today I'll give you my overall Rwandan Adventure highlight and lowlight, which both happened within the past 24 hours.<br />
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Last night was my lowlight when, driving home from a friend's house with Talya in the backseat, I was sideswiped by another (bigger) vehicle. We were both fine and the damage to the car was minimal, but it was just an overwhelming moment of NOW WHAT DO I DO? I've never been in an accident before, much less in a country where I am a foreigner and in a car that I don't own, and in a situation where I am likely to be blamed just by reason of my appearance (Mzungu), and can't communicate with the authorities because of language difficulties.<br />
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It got additionally confusing and comical when the police informed me that the other car was a government car ("His Excellency's"). My response was, "The government should drive better, no?" I thought this was hilarious, and the police officer giggled. Looking back, that is a very unwise thing to say in a country that offers no freedom of speech. Yet, God protected me from another driver, a system I didn't understand, and my own foolish words. I came home and the car is at the shop to get the fender put back in place. Where is Van Eck Automotive when you need them?<br />
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And then I had my highlight today. I believe I've mentioned chapel groups. Each week at chapel, we break up into discussion groups to chat about the morning's lesson. We keep the same groups, so it is a great opportunity to get to know four of my sixth grade girls. I've been amazed at the opportunities to talk about the gospel both in class and in chapel groups. These kids know the salvation gospel - Jesus died for your sins - but what a privilege to be able to talk about how each of them can be confident in God's love for them and what that means in their 6th grade lives, and in my life.<br />
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The last week of the month is set aside for chapel groups to spend more time together. The school provides sodas to set the tone and we planned today at lunch as our time to chat. So fun! Ineza, Laura, Elise and Nicole joined me over cafeteria food and Fanta and I told them we could talk about whatever they wanted. The questions started with what percentage of the world is Christian, which I googled and we discussed what that might mean. That led to their experiences with people of other faiths and Catholocism, which is predominant in Rwanda. It was fun to explore the richness of Catholic theology and a few practices which differ from what we teach at KICS. Then they asked how I met Mr Thomas, which is always a great story to tell to pre-dating adolescents.<br />
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It is a highlight to share our life with students - that is why we're here and I'm thankful God is providing opportunities for both me and Ben.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-91717926841769912292014-09-21T11:34:00.000-07:002014-09-21T11:34:02.874-07:00I Keep Singing OceansOh my gosh, I'm about to be a brat. But, today is Sunday and it's been a great day of worshiping in a church, eating with friends, resting at home, and getting to know new people.<br />
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And, earlier this week, I saw this post on Facebook called <a href="http://www.anniefdowns.com/2014/09/16/stop-singing-oceans/#.VB8TE1Z2p_Y" target="_blank">Stop Singing Oceans</a>. And I skimmed it. So, let's be honest. I SKIMMED it. I didn't finish it and I didn't study it. What I read got me all fired up; it felt judgmental and critical and I started crafting a fine blog critique of blog criticism. And then I called myself a hypocrite and put the thing to bed.<br />
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But then, as I walked into church this morning (late), we started singing Oceans. So, of course, it all came back. What I took to be the author's point was that we shouldn't ask God to lead us to place with no borders if we don't mean it. Again, all fairness: maybe that wasn't her point. Maybe in my judgmental high, I missed some irony or a deeper point.<br />
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But what washed over me this morning as I re-wrestled with these ideas was thanksgiving. Because, every Sunday morning, I am invited to loudly and with spirit sing songs full of words that are impossible to fully mean. As a wretch, a sinner, at war with my flesh, I am unable to worship God with complete purity of heart. But, we gather together anyway and do it. And I am so thankful that we can do that. That we can enter into a place with God where we can say/sing/pray/recite/responsively read deep words of affirmation of our faith - a faith that I don't always feel, and I don't always mean, and I am terrified of where it will lead, and I still know is Truth.<br />
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I can do it with transparency before God because he knows my heart. He knows the things I am holding back. He knows the borders I'm hoping He will let me keep erected. He sees those things and invites me to worship Him anyway. He invites me to sing Amazing Grace even on the mornings when I'm sure I'm less of a wretch than you. He has allowed the great hymns and the contemporary tunes to be authored by sinners and sung by the masses. He asks for our my whole heart, but promises that where my worship is incomplete, insufficient, and inattentive, He intercedes for me with the Father.<br />
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So, I can sing Oceans or the Doxology or Holy, Holy, Holy to the LORD GOD ALMIGHTY. And on the Sunday mornings when I do it as a hypocrite (about 4 times a month), He sees what I'm holding back, accepts what I offer and calls me His.<br />
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One of the songs that I kinda hate, but still holds so much meaning for me is "Here I am to worship." The tune kind of gets to me, but the sentence, "Here I am to say that you're my God," feels like exactly what worship should be. Me saying that over and over again. Sometimes I don't have a lot to bring, but I can always say that with confidence and joy.<br />
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******<br />
So, we have found a church that we are enjoying. It's called <a href="http://www.clarwanda.org/" target="_blank">Christian Life Assembly</a>. It's a fairly diverse congregation, but *feels* mostly African, which is something we were desiring. Today's sermon was a beautiful, truthful, deep, artful exploration of the gospel (Galatians 3:3) throughout Scripture. We are hoping to join a neighborhood cell group soon and get to know some more people. We just had a great dinner with one of the pastors and his family.<br />
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*******<br />
Disclaimer: Ben hasn't read this post and the opinions expressed herein are mine alone. (Susie)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-1765387094347683922014-09-12T01:41:00.001-07:002014-09-12T01:41:41.056-07:00A brain update and a pretty picture (not of my brain)I had a brain MRI last week and it has yet to have been reviewed by my dr in the states but a few docs here have peeked at it and have given us the thumbs up. So, we pray thanks, breathe faith, and take another step into the future. <div><br></div><div>Also, we are on a staff retreat right now in a beautiful place called Kibuye. I mean, these forested hills overlooking a lake look more like my lake George than my preconceived notions of Africa. </div><div><br></div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-d6bK3qIDQ2k/VBKxwHJtZqI/AAAAAAAAA7o/PJ5Yn-CUAYE/s640/blogger-image--857287451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-d6bK3qIDQ2k/VBKxwHJtZqI/AAAAAAAAA7o/PJ5Yn-CUAYE/s640/blogger-image--857287451.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-_ATjwlBjlKs/VBKxurUkLtI/AAAAAAAAA7g/zCrWGauHWLs/s640/blogger-image--754737635.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-_ATjwlBjlKs/VBKxurUkLtI/AAAAAAAAA7g/zCrWGauHWLs/s640/blogger-image--754737635.jpg"></a></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-86231182738494769732014-09-08T12:38:00.000-07:002014-09-08T12:38:21.224-07:00Baby, BabyIn no particular order, here is my firstborn through the years:<br />
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Gosh, I love him. He gets better every day. He's smart and funny and interesting. He loves to learn and read and ask questions. He is kind to others, and helpful to me. He has weathered this change with courage. He's nine and the older he gets, the less I find myself hoping it slows down, and the more eager I am to see who he's becoming. Happy birthday Simon - use your powers for good!</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-90852959812384070292014-08-31T08:01:00.001-07:002014-08-31T08:01:17.345-07:00Diversity and the commitment to my discomfortI read <a href="http://www.christianitytoday.com/amyjuliabecker/2014/august/want-to-be-multiethnic-get-ready-for-discomfort.html" target="_blank">this article</a> yesterday. Actually, I skimmed it. Then, I threw my iPad at Ben, and ordered him to read it and report on his thoughts. The sentences I skimmed in a hurry made a huge impact on me. I was fascinated by the principle presented on pursuing diversity, even though, it kind of seems obvious. If diversity is a priority in my life, ministry, organization (what have you), than I will be committed to my own discomfort. I will prioritize my dissatisfaction, and I will not whine when I experience it. <b>I will offer up my preferences to Jesus for another who is different than me, and I will do it in praise.</b><br />
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I read this from the standpoint of someone whose main ministry responsibilities outside of the home have involved conference planning (heavy on musical worship, prayer and Bible teaching). I have worked on teams where we have put A LOT of thought into reflecting and encouraging diversity - in a context that is not super diverse. The context is important, because reflecting diversity is easy (I would imagine) if you have it. For instance, if I was to put together promotional materials for KICS, it would be a natural thing requiring no effort in photoshop to reflect diversity in our student body. It's just there. Showing it and celebrating it are easy. In my last ministry assignment, there wasn't a lot of diversity to reflect, but we had a desire to encourage it, and facilitate it. Of course, there was a tiny bit of ethnic diversity in our conference rooms, and honoring and respecting those brave souls <i>(because, it takes courage, people, to be the glaringly invisible one in the room every day at your job) </i>and their backgrounds, cultures and preferences was important.<br />
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I also think about this issue from my current situation - a minority in a foreign country. This situation also requires complex distinctions, because in my current context, minority does not equal marginalized. I'm an ethnic minority, but my relative wealth still grants me a power and privilege that are likened to the white privilege I bore at home. (Pause for a conversation on intersectionality....) In my Rwandaful world, there is a community of ex-pats that is the most dangerous size: small enough to know everyone in it and large enough to adequately meet my social needs (taking away the need to burst the bubble and interact with people who come from a background significantly different than my own).<br />
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My point is, there or here, living a life that reflects and encourages diversity requires intentionality.<br />
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So, this church, East End Fellowship in Richmond Virginia, <a href="http://www.christianitytoday.com/amyjuliabecker/2014/august/want-to-be-multiethnic-get-ready-for-discomfort.html" target="_blank">has a rule</a>:<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #4d4d4d; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When we gather together to worship on Sundays, everyone should be happy with no more than 75% of what is happening during the worship service. Why such a strange rule? Because we realize that in our culturally diverse congregation, if you are happy and comfortable with more than 75% of what is going on, it most likely means that your personal cultural preferences are being dominantly expressed. So we’ve decided that no one cultural form will be dominant and everyone will be equally unhappy with the worship!</span></span></blockquote>
What if I approached my conference planning with that goal in mind? What if I scanned the post-event evaluations with an eye toward holding myself accountable to that? What if our emcee informed the group at each session that each person in the room would only be happy with 75% of the night - in deference to another?<br />
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In church. What if I ran away from a church that scored an A+ on my comfortability scale? What if I sought out a church that made me roll my eyes a minimum of five times a service or squirm in my seat - but where I looked around and my brother and sisters had their hands raised in Allelujahs?<br />
What kind of bravery would it take to intentionally fall short of people's expectations - a whole 25% of the time?<br />
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More importantly, what if I trusted Jesus to transform my rolling eyes into thank offerings and my squirms into dancing?<br />
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My Jesus calls me to a life of self-sacrifice, and I willingly offer that to him in so many areas, but I cling to my preference on worship. <i>Hymns</i>! I demand. <i>With their original melody! Stop changing the tunes! If you don't know what the words mean, google them, don't change them! How can you sing Glory Hallelujah with your hands in your lap? Why the repetition?</i> I cry out, like it's for justice instead of vain preference.<br />
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What if I made a decision to be "equally unhappy" for the sake of another - and it led to us both being more deeply satisfied? What if I applied that "rule" - 25% of mine for more of yours - to my finances, my time, my marriage, my parenting?<br />
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Happy Sunday from Team Thomas!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6678323911964008238.post-3161379131159335282014-08-30T01:42:00.001-07:002014-08-30T01:42:40.943-07:00Umuganda<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-jrBTNDE0cUU/VAGOZV53S6I/AAAAAAAAA4w/tW5IPsyaUV4/s640/blogger-image-562406364.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-jrBTNDE0cUU/VAGOZV53S6I/AAAAAAAAA4w/tW5IPsyaUV4/s640/blogger-image-562406364.jpg"></a></div>Rwanda has a very interesting take on community service. The last Saturday of every month is called umuganda, and the city shuts down for the morning for neighbors to come together to work for the betterment of the area. We still are learning about how this works. We first experienced umuganda in 2010 when we were here for our adoption. We had limited time to complete some important errands and got up early one Saturday morning to learn that we couldn't leave the hotel until noon. <div>This morning is umuganda. With no construction work being done across the street, no buses or Moto taxis running, no shops doing business, the quiet feels almost noisy. </div><div>I think the way it works is that each community plans a group activity and makes an announcement of the plans in the morning. We asked Eddie to scope the situation last night and he thought the official umuganda activity was maybe not intended for families. Mzungus are not specifically expected to participate, but we do want to be a part of our community as much as possible. </div><div>So, after breakfast, we headed out our gate armed with bags to pick up trash. Kigali is relatively litter-free. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DUuliKHFE14/VAGOdREEcPI/AAAAAAAAA44/OWl71s6Y93s/s640/blogger-image--1093394904.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DUuliKHFE14/VAGOdREEcPI/AAAAAAAAA44/OWl71s6Y93s/s640/blogger-image--1093394904.jpg"></a></div>There are some interesting official and unofficial laws that keep this city clean and orderly. (Plastic shopping bags are illegal here.) </div><div>Yet, in 10 minutes the six of us collected 4 grocery bags of bottles, wrappers, parts of shoes, and other assorted items. </div><div>A few roaming locals were definitely surprised to see us out there. With the gate and our car, a normal but unfortunate barrier exists between us and the rest of our world. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-3OgQP_2jtPg/VAGOULBI9II/AAAAAAAAA4g/VHwIvLchMqQ/s640/blogger-image--1959558940.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-3OgQP_2jtPg/VAGOULBI9II/AAAAAAAAA4g/VHwIvLchMqQ/s640/blogger-image--1959558940.jpg"></a></div></div><div>What are your thoughts? I think the idea of umuganda is both inspiring and beautiful but the compulsory part is new to me. I can't help but think it would never fly in America where we hold individualism so close to our hearts. But what would our cities look like if we were compelled to take responsibility for them together? If we were all required to spend three hours a week picking up trash? We'd at least probably litter less. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-T8lpN-6LzWs/VAGOXJ0bkeI/AAAAAAAAA4o/iaCCLUI3d2E/s640/blogger-image-1158054606.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-T8lpN-6LzWs/VAGOXJ0bkeI/AAAAAAAAA4o/iaCCLUI3d2E/s640/blogger-image-1158054606.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mcP5361wD8k/VAGOfTe02RI/AAAAAAAAA5A/KrXhmWRo6aM/s640/blogger-image-1020330870.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mcP5361wD8k/VAGOfTe02RI/AAAAAAAAA5A/KrXhmWRo6aM/s640/blogger-image-1020330870.jpg"></a></div></div>(Behold, the fruits of our labor)</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0