Olofo Ngwa Te (Lit: The Baby Was Taken Out)

Yawn. Yep, that was pretty much my sentiment when the clock went off at 6:15 to rouse me to yoga this morning. It was dark and raining (as it seems to be all the time these days). At 7:30 my eyes opened again and I attempted to shoot my tired body out of bed. It ended up more like a drag, but I made it out, and that's what counts on days like this! 

Tea, homemade yogurt and granola, starting four workers into their work on the compound, doing some dishes, getting in some reading in Genesis and Psalms, and I was off to Mama Viviana's house to celebrate!

Three days ago her daughter and my friend Joseline (also the Diocesan accountant) gave birth to this adorable, curly haired little 'angel' as they call him. Three days the mother and child stay in the house, and then prayers are conducted to bring him out. It's like a dedication service.

Coming to Viviana's is always a bit like coming home. The kids spot me on my bike from the road and come running and calling my name, all smiles. After greetings all around, a big hug for Viviana, and chit chatting with her other daughter Margaret for a bit, I crossed the compound for Joseline's house. "You're going to see your sister," they said. I smiled and nodded. After going in to see mum and the new baby (SOOO cute), they called me away to the kitchen.

I was happily put in charge of slicing cabbage thin (how I wish I had my mandolin) with onions and tomatoes for a salad that would accompany the meal that follows prayers. They send me to work because I'm no longer considered a guest. Their house is my house, and on events like this, I'm considered the host. :)

And on days like this I'm reminded that my usefulness here is not only in the 'work' that I accomplish. Moru people consider it a great marvel that a white person would come and participate and work alongside them, in their Moru way. All morning people were commenting on how I could slice the cabbage wonderfully thin how they like it (really, guys...it's nothing). And woman after woman wanted to see my calloused hands because they couldn't believe I dig in my own garden like they do. Somehow it is a source of encouragement and honor to them. I don't get it, but I'm so glad that in God's economy, every little detail counts.

I've been reading a book these days - Green Leaf in Drought Time - about a missionary family in China in the early 1900s. From the world's perspective their mission work was a total failure. The communists restricted them to their compound. They were not allowed to talk to anyone. And they couldn't leave because they were being humiliated by the regime, sucked dry of their money, and refused an exit pass. What was God doing? What was the point?  Had He forgotten them?

He was encouraging the Chinese church which, pressed under the cruel thumb of the communist regime, needed a vision of God's keeping power in time of severe testing. And this is what it witnessed in the lives of Arthur and Wilda. Though tested grievously, this foreign family remained at peace. Despite starvation, despite humiliation, despite isolation, despite having their hopes dashed again and again, they continued on in joy trusting their Father's plan. As I too must trust my halting efforts here to my Father's good plan.

Today's event was dual-purpose. Prayers for the new baby, and a memorial of thanks to God for the day God spared Viviana's family from an aerial bombing and shooting that lasted thirty minutes without abating. She relayed the account of that dreadful day once again for the audience under the mango tree. And she thanked God again, as she had vowed to do every year on the event's anniversary, until she dies.

Rina, Bishop's wife, gave the short sermon, the baby's name was announced - Justin Tofiki (sp?) -, we prayed over him, and then we all greeted and feasted on rice, goat, beans, and salad. I couldn't hang around long - my workers were waiting for me back at the house. But it was a blessing and a joy to share in the celebration of life. And to be challenged to believe again that the tapestry God weaves through my stumbling steps here carries with it a weight of glory that none of us can imagine. 

Welcome to our corner of the world Justin Tofiki. May you grow in the grace and knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ, and may you walk in the ways of your sweet grandmother Viviana - who is full and overflowing with the life of the Lord. May you devote yourself with joy to the work of your Father's magnificent tapestry like she does. And may you be full of faith and hope to know it is being woven, perfectly, even when you cannot see it. Amen.