We pray this finds you relishing memories of a wonderful Christmas with family and friends and launching into a new year filled with hope and expectancy.

But maybe life has been hard. Family has been complicated and things didn’t work out the way you wanted them to. If this is where you find yourself looking ahead into another year of unknowns, possible disappointments and fears, I pray this brief word bring you hope and peace.

Over the Christmas holidays we attended multiple church services and concerts (taking advantage of where we are!) and I took notes as I felt God pointing things out to me. Nothing earth shattering, but collectively powerful.

It begins in John 1. “In the beginning was the Word…” This ‘Word’ that came from eternity, limitless power, authority, outside of time, co-creator of everything—-came into being as a human. Unable to eat, walk, speak, even think for himself. He became like us! How amazing Christmas is as we look at this babe in a manger and beyond the glitz, commercialism and cultural trappings, see the Lord of Universe as a babe. This was where I began a train of thought. This manifestation of the Love of God the Father in the flesh I why I have chosen my life’s path.

But thankfully, gloriously the story goes on to Christ’s perfection, dealing with the same issues, temptations and pain we deal with and then, ultimately dying for us to take away the barrier of sin that stood between God and man since the garden.

Sadly, He didn’t ‘fix the world’ at the same time and a I mentioned above, we live in turmoil, in pain, in tribulation. But what is the closing of the first paragraph in John 1:5? “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness ha not overcome it.”

And then in John 4: 4 the same writer of the gospel of John reminds his beloved, “You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them (evil spirits), because the one who I in you is greater than the one in the world.”

And again in John 5:4 he repeats the statement a little differently, “…for everyone born of God overcomes the world. This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith.” Did you catch that? It isn’t our strength, intellect, deep Biblical knowledge, church attendance or even character. It is our faith IN who Jesus Christ IS.

Friends, this is a world as broken and hurting as it has ever been. Possibly ‘the loudest voices’ claim the most awful things but truth remains. Christ HAS overcome the world. Our faith IN Him gives us victory. Carry Him into everything this year. Bring everything to Him this year. Have hope, rest that Christ can redeem it all and this darkness we find ourselves in often, has NOT overcome Him. Praise God!

John finishes up in chapter 16 with Jesus’ words that I will leave you with as well.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

It has taken me a while but here is another observation i had while visiting the north in January. Now, as i am preparing to teach on the early church found in Acts, the depth and importance of what i saw and felt seem somehow deeper, more real.

We in the west; Evangelical, wealthy, non-persecuted, comfortable, over burdened with resources and luxery tend to see ourselves as ‘the latest greatest’ Christianity. We look back and say, ‘sure we are a continuation of the past church, but instead of looking at ourselves as part of the historic early church tethered and connected to not just the founder of the church, but to our church fathers, but to the earliest church in the Mediterranean, and further still, we are connected to first church. Reading Acts again after visiting our Coptic brothers has caused me pause and some amount of sadness–or jealousy of those who are so deeply connected to not only their past but to one another.

The Coptic church holds dearly, tenaciously holds on these connections. Through icons, relics, holy sites and rituals the entire church finds strength and comfort from tracing and remembering their connection to the past. To martyrs, to fathers, to miracles. Check out the story of Simon the Tanner from the 10th century, of God moving a mountain and saving all the Coptic Christians and converting the ruling Caliph al-Muizz who basically told the Pope of the day, after hearing, “Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you”, from Mathew 17, it is reported he said, “What sayest thou concerning this word? Is it your gospel or not?” The patriarch answered “Yes, it is in it.” and the rest of the story is history—-the Coptics history, OUR history. (https://copticcrew.com/pages/st-simon-the-tanner).

And yet, we fat skeptics, brush off and deflect, discredit and avoid such acts of faith.

Are we not surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses? Did not/does not our God still perform miracles? Even if you don’t believe He still does, can we not find courage, strength and comfort knowing He did?

Maybe as we seek for connection in our families, our communities, our churches and our lands, we can also look back and find strength, connected to those who have gone before.

Cami and i recently went to Cairo for leadership meetings (which were great). Before the meetings we took a few days and became tourists and were absolutely stunned by the history, architecture, religions and friendliness of Egypt. We saw the pyramids, the treasures and heard from tour guides and locals on the ongoing religious and cultural issues of Egypt. This first post is about the ancient Egyptians and one of their beliefs. The ancient Egyptians believed that after death they would enter the underworld (Duat) where they would be judged by Anubis, the god of the dead, according to what they had done. Their heart would be weighed against a feather of Ma’at, the goddess of order, truth and righteousness and if the evil he had done, if it weighed more than a feather, his heart (and soul) would be devoured by a monster Ammut head of crocodile, chest of a lion and back of a rhino). If the scale was equal, he would sit before some elders and each would in turn ask him a question. If he answered any of those question incorrectly, he would be devoured. All along the way there is little hope for a good life in the afterlife. Seems the scales are weighted and the elders can ask anything! (see if you can find the characters in the picture below).

You always think you will be the one to beat the predictions, but you usually are not. You think “next year will be better” “soon I’ll be able to do aerobics” or “If I just ignore the situation, it will go away.” Right. Anyway, I’ve really tried to do all the right things and not do all the wrong things, but from the time we moved to Kenya in 2021, things headed downhill even faster for me. Although I enjoyed the twice daily walks with my big dogs, walking on the uneven ground really was painful. Shots to the back helped for only a short time, and sitting became a problem. Special chair, standing desk, advice from physical therapists, everything was tried and nothing helped much. About 6 months ago, I noticed my left leg was especially numb and an MRI in October revealed a much more serious situation that we anticipated. The words of the South African surgeon were that my joint had “packed up”. We got quite a laugh about that one.

There’s nothing to be done except continue in constant pain and watch the situation worsen, or let the spinal carpenter go to work with hammer and screws. In a way, I can’t wait to get on the table and start recovering and hopefully feeling much much better, and in another way it is the very last thing I want to do. I’m sure anyone facing such a surgery would feel the same. At the same time, I’m so incredibly grateful I’ve held out so long. After my last fusion, predictions were that I’d be back before long. But we’ve managed to stretch “before long” into 12 years. Praise God! 

If you are reading this, you probably know me and know that I LOVE biking, specifically mountain biking. I ride as much as I can, preferably off road and singletrack out in the wilderness. Yes, there are inherent dangers and riding here in Namibia when one goes off trail or crashes, often it is into rocks, thorns or both. Last weekend I participated (and finished) my first cross country race, and I crashed on the first of four laps. And it got me thinking.

What does one do when you crash? Often we first look around to see who noticed, we feel a bit sorry for ourselves and then start blaming everything and everyone for what happened. It hurts to crash. It is somewhat humiliating and can set us back on our journey quite a bit. Or you can dust yourself off, get some treatment, find friends to encourage you and get going again. As you slowly get going again you desperately try not only NOT to crash again but you warn others, you point out pit falls and rocks in the path.

As I recuperate and heal from my physical crash I couldn’t help thinking about how it is so similar to when we crash spiritually—when we sin or disobey. We look around to see if anyone has noticed, we sometimes run and hide, pretending nothing happened and don’t tell a soul. Or we find a trusted friend/mentor to help us heal and correct what made us crash in the first place.

I believe there are many brothers (and sisters) all around us who struggle like this. So this post has two applications.

1. If you are strong, if you can help those who have crashed (the broken and hurting), come along side them and lend a hand, a shoulder, a coffee and a listening ear.  Share with them your own journey and point out the “rocks and thorns” that you may have experienced.
2. If you are broken, hurting, ashamed or embarrassed by your ‘crash’, let go of your pride and open up to a friend. Not one of us is immune to falling (or failing) from time to time. You are not alone.
3. Lastly, return to God who loves you just the way you are and desires to see you whole, healthy (in every way) and welcomes even the most wayward sinner, the thirstiest deserter and the coldest of hearts. He is waiting.

Lastly, when you find the courage to get up, dust yourself off and ride on you will find you will not only be stronger for it but also will crash less going forward and eventually, finish well!  – Kevin

After all these years in Southern Africa, I can now stand the “You’re so fat!” comments without flinching or rushing to measure myself up in the mirror. In poorer countries, that is a real compliment and is meant as such.

However, despite all my knowledge of cultural differences and lots of practice adjusting situations in my mind to what they really mean as opposed to how they land on me, some things still just hit me between the eyes. Or get under my skin, more like it.

I have to say, by now I really OUGHT to not mind when people are very late. It’s about relationships. They don’t work on a fixed schedule. The moment is more important than the plan. I repeat these things like mantras in my head, over and over, and usually come out ok. These things are true, and they are in many ways good.

However, deep down I have to admit it often still bothers me. I still feel my time has been wasted, and there was a lack of consideration. I arranged a phone call with a pastor in Mozambique recently, and at the appointed time I sent a message: “Can I call?” The response came: “I’m not available, I’ll send a signal when I am.” Well, then. After 45 minutes of waiting, I had to go to another meeting and when I told him, he seemed a bit put out. Why was this lady so impatient, he was probably thinking. See, it goes both ways.

But just a few days ago I did a favor for a friend of a friend, someone in another country, by adjusting some graphics for an upcoming event. We went back and forth with the changes, I sent several versions, and in the end sent the final by message app. I waited. After a couple of hours, I wrote “Is this what you wanted?”. The response came, “Yes”. That’s it. 2 days later, I fumed a bit to Kevin “If I worked in person with this guy, I would really have to inform him that the very least expected is a simple ‘thank you’.”

In my culture, if you don’t even get that then you usually conclude that the person is inconsiderate and you won’t likely help them again.

However, on this continent I’ve run into quite a few people who never utter those words. Whole cultures, even. So likely that’s what happened. It wouldn’t have occured to him to thank me. But it still niggles at my mind, and that is proof that though I cannot escape my culture; it is my heart that really must change. – C

As we all head back to work (some poor souls never left) we face the coming year . . . sometimes with a “Why am I doing this? How am I going to do all this? Should I be doing it differently?”.

In my role in AfriGO, I juggle quite a few balls and the people who are also juggling with me. We toss them back and forth and I am responsible to make sure our relationships are good, our vision is clear, and the details are done properly. Sometimes I just feel weary – there are so many piles and so many things that need attention. I’m very grateful for the time off, but even then I was thinking about things that were ongoing, and our social media cycle never stops!

How hard it is to hear the still small voice, the gentle nudge, the little flag waving “come over here!”. Cause I’m really bad at stopping to listen. God leads us in all things and sometimes he gives us general principles to follow and sometimes he wants us to do something specific, for reasons which are not always clear. So, my goal is try to listen better this year. He is so patient with me!

Meanwhile, the work goes on and I pray that my heart for it never wavers, even when I am tired. There are so many who do not know Jesus, and without the powerhouse of the African Church, they will never be reached. We pray that our little contributions contribute, even as a trickle, to that growing stream of Gospel witness! – C

So, tomorrow is Thanksgiving and we do actually have plans, unlike most years overseas. A dinner with two other families, and apparently smoked meat is on the menu. Nothing too exotic, unfortunately.

One of the things I greatly appreciate about living outside the US is how much more chilled-out the holidays are. Seriously, do you Americans even know how over-the-top Christmas is over there? Yes, we also get holiday decorations up in the shops too early, but that’s about where it ends. There are some events, but for the most part the whole of Windhoek decamps for the north or to the coast for much of December. I don’t see Christmas ads, don’t have to attend 24 Christmas events (and make a million cookies), buy gifts for 97 people, and push through the crowds at the stores. It’s oh-so-lovely and chilled out. I love it. Oh, and the warm weather – well, it doesn’t feel like Christmas but it doesn’t feel like I’m going to perish in the ice either.

That said, come Christmas there is a real melancholy as we make the phone calls to family whose dear faces we have not seen for a long time (often for years) and will not likely see any time soon. That’s the downside and it never seems to get any “upside-er”.

Meanwhile, I am enjoying the luxury of not doing much about the holidays and walking into the wide-open shops, strolling along at my own pace to buy a few things. I’m not even listening to Christmas music yet (*gasp!) Nice. – Cami

Today I had to watch it again, and it never seems to feel any better. It’s leaving day at Rift Valley Academy, and groups of teenagers stood around hugging and weeping and making awkward conversation before a bunch of them lugged their suitcases to the bus and climbed up the stairs. A prayer for safety, then frantic waving out the windows while the bus pulled away.

Most of the kids will see each other in just six weeks. Some of them will never see each other again – and that’s the life of a missionary kid. I’ve talked about this issue way too many times before and if you look at our TCK page you can read about hellos and goodbyes.

Over the years, I’ve watched my kids say heartbroken farewells to grandparents, dear family members, and friends. I always feel so stricken, because I know how they are feeling – I did a lot of that as a child too. I know how helpless they feel, how deeply sad. And I saw it in these kids today – they go off clutching a passport, a plane ticket, perhaps a stuffed animal, knowing that sometimes goobye is for a very long time. They will be met by joyful, thrilled people on the other end of that flight, which is the upside to these goodbyes. But a bit of the heart is always left behind.

I’ve been doing my share of crying lately too, as we say our goodbyes here. I’ve met some lovely people and renewed some friendships which were interrupted by distance. I walk past places with happy memories, joyful encounters, knowing I might not be back. There’s a good thing coming, but it is a sad road to get there.

Someday, I believe, there will be no more goodbyes, onlly hellos and joy and long, warm embraces full of laughing and “I can’t believe it!”. A healing of our hearts and no more tears. Too many tears these days. – Cami