To be Known

Throughout the course of this sickness, I've started to feel like I've lost myself somehow. At church, I was known as that girl who leads the praise team. At school, I was the loud teacher who likes to blow things up. And in public, I was that person at the movies who laughs out loud at scenes that nobody else thinks are funny. But I haven't sung a song since the first week of February, my students are taking most of their notes on their own out of a textbook, and I haven't laughed out loud without coughing since leaving the States over two months ago. Somewhere along the line, I became the quiet person who gives people a "2 Thumbs up" sign and smiles sweetly at things that are funny. People who are meeting me for the first time have never heard me sing and watch me nod or shake my head in order to be an "active" part of any conversation. When my principal asked for "last words" of encouragement to the other members of the teaching staff, I had to ask them all to lean in and listen closely.

Now, people aren't talking about my laugh or my voice or my "musical abilities." In my "Get Well Soon" and "Going Away" cards, they were saying things like, dedication to my students, great trust in the Lord and faith in God's promises. Not that they wouldn't have said these things before, but it probably wouldn't have been the first thing that came to mind. (At least it's never been mentioned as much as it was this time. :)

I think, in some ways, I have lost myself. I'm no longer the "loud, laughing, praise team leader." Now, I'm simply known as a Child of God.


But I think that's better.

Musings on Going "Home"

Muse, muse, muse... I'm only a few weeks away from leaving Dar for, what could be, a long time. And I am still trying to process it. As I organize filing cabinets, re-write curriculum maps and photocopy assembly music, I am listening to people say, "Kate, go home NOW. You can't breathe!" While that is true, I am also watching the faces of my 10th graders drop when I say, "Your exam is in a month, but I am leaving in 2 weeks," or listen to my 9th graders who so sweetly ask, "But will next year's teacher be as good as you?" To the people who want me to stay, I have to say, "I'm sorry but it will be better if I leave" and to the people who say "Leave now!" I have to say, "I'm sorry but it's better that I stay for a little while." To both I say, "Please pray that I can endure."

I am studying Hebrews with a group of women every other Monday night. Last week, we started a brief outline of the "Hall of Faith" Chapter... Hebrews 11. One of the things we talked about were the "rewards" for the faith of all of these people mentioned, and how they died without ever receiving the "promises." But yet, they endured. Our study concluded with the first few verses from Chapter 12... "Consider Jesus... who, for the joy set before Him, endured..." We talked about the point that the author was trying to make for the Hebrews who had and were enduring heavy persecution for their faith... the encouragement this message of promised rewards must have been. An encouragement to endure... because of the Home that awaited them.

My last few weeks in Dar have been and are a slow walk of endurance. (I say walk because there is no running for me right now.) Every day it is hard to breath. Every lecture I have to speak softly and pray the students in the back won't be too loud. Every moment I hope that the power stays on so that I can sit in the dry, air-conditioned air. But I will endure for two more weeks. Because there is still a job for me to do, students to teach, curriculums to map. Acts of service that were designed for me and that God is giving me the ability to complete. But I can endure for two more weeks... because I know that at the end of this is a plane ride, Dad-hugs, Mom-cooked meals, cuddles and movies on the couch with my sisters, and help. At the end of this is Home.

If there's a harder way...

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both, but being one traveler long I stood. And looked down one as far as I could... and I, I took the one less traveled by... and that has made all the difference."

-Robert Frost

Weekly dinner tonight with good friends. One, I hadn't told yet about leaving Tanzania early. She was shocked, as I was last week when I made the decision. But things aren't getting better... sometimes it feels like they're getting worse. Sometimes it feels like all I do is complain about my health. And sometimes, it feels like I am losing my mind because of the medication. It's been almost 6 months of injuries and sickness... 6 months of being envious of the PE classes as I watch them run by my office... 6 months of people praying for my health and healing.

And I'm still sick.

In a country where the Prosperity Gospel is prevalent and practiced, to tell people who have been praying for your healing that you are STILL sick can be embarrassing and confusing. And the response is always the same, "I'll keep praying, You just claim your healing." But at this point, I have started telling people to stop praying for my healing! If God wanted me healed, I would be healed. At this point, it seems like He has something else in mind. So people who want to pray for me, I've asked them to pray that I would be open and yielded to God... regardless of what He has planned. And people look at me funny.

It's not that I don't want to be healed, it's not that I don't believe God wants to heal me, it's not that I don't believe He's capable of it... but if He has something else planned, THAT'S what I want. Even as a small child, when I was talking to my parents about accepting Jesus, my Mom said, "Katie, you are safe. We can keep you safe." and I responded, "No, Mom. I don't want to be safe. I want to be SAVED." (As a 5 year old, I had no idea the weight those words would carry in my life.) And the night before I loaded my suitcases into the car, just barely over a month ago, still feeling weak and worn but needing to get back to my students, my mother remarked, "If there's a harder way, you're always going to take that one instead."

And maybe she's right... maybe I do look for the harder way. Maybe the reason I'm still sick is because God knows I need a break. Or maybe He's given me this personality because the harder way has always been what He had planned for me. Regardless, there are two things I now know for certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt... 1. God is in control, even when things go "wrong" and "sorrows like sea billows roll" and 2. I don't want to be Happy and Safe. I want to be Holy and Saved.

NOT this Little Light of Mine

There are 2 things I have learned tonight... 3 for which I am grateful.

1. No matter how many you live through, power outages never get easier.

2. It is extremely difficult to check for chicken pox/shingles using only a flashlight and a mirror.

3. A bedroom has significantly more light when a candle is placed in front of a mirror.

I don't know why I've never thought of it before... placing a candle in front of a mirror. Maybe it's because after leaving the classroom, I try to forget that I know things like Laws of Plane Mirror Reflection and the principles of refraction which cause candle glow. Maybe it's because I have only recently brought back the lovely, Ikea taper candle holders which my sister-in-law encouraged me to buy (Thank you, Erin, they really come in handy!) Or maybe its because my mirror is on the other side of my bedroom and when I'm reading by candlelight, I tend to put the candles on my bedside table. Regardless of the reason, tonight, during one of our many scheduled power outages, I placed a taper candle in front of my dressing table mirror and marveled at the many things I was suddenly able to see.

and then the song "This Little Light of Mine" suddenly started to bother me. Yes, Jesus is the Light of the World. Yes, we are His hands and feet. But I can't help wondering if the church would be better off if we all spent less time worrying about how we are going to shine our own lights and spent more time trying to reflect His.

So perhaps instead of "taking the light to this darkened world" we should be thinking, "You know, Jesus is the Light. Let's all go be mirrors!"