Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Conversations with Grandpa - leaving a legacy

"Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up."
                                                                                                                          -Deuteronomy 6:4-7

I've had the privilege of watching a man live his life following this command and lead his family in this way.


My cousin Amanda had the best conversation with my grandpa recently. Here's what she wrote:

A few weeks ago i was able to go back home and i stopped in to see them on a Sunday morning before church. They were sitting in the common area at the nursing home where they have lived for the past several years. Grandpa has Alzheimers and he doesn’t always recognize me. This particular day i had the kids with me and my mom came along. Grandpa was walking in and when he saw me, he acted like he recognized me. He didn’t know for sure who i was but his face lit up when he saw me. That doesn’t always happen when i go see them. I reminded him who i was and who the kids were like always and then i asked him how he was doing. He was moving slowly to his seat and stopped and answered “I have a good family, and my faith, and good work, it's good.”

Well, that same cousin informed me today that my grandpa died this morning.


I ran a lot in the summer before I left for Niger. I'd run every evening from my apartment, over to see my mom, then down to the nursing home to visit Grandma and Grandpa Sybesma. I usually ran after dark, and it worried him a bit when I would stay too long.
"Do you want me to go get the car warmed up so I can drive you home?"
"No, I think I can run home."
"Oh, you ran here? That's quite a run." (this conversation tended to be circular. It took me awhile to figure out that he still thought they lived on the farm, and he could never figure out why I would run anywhere, so I just started telling him I had a car).


This was the conversation last summer. They've lived in the nursing home for about seven years.
Grandma: (leaning forward as if to tell me a secret) Don't tell my kids I'm asking you this, but where are we?
Me: (whispering the secret back) You're in the nursing home in Platte.
Grandma: (taken aback) We're in Platte? Really? Clarence, (turning to Grandpa) did you know we are in Platte?
Grandpa: (rather monotone) Oh, are we?
Grandma: How did we get here?
Grandpa: Oh, in the car I suppose. I was waiting out there for a bit before you came. Think I honked the horn.
Grandma: We're in Platte?
Me: (nodding)
Grandma: Clarence, when did we get to Platte?
Grandpa: Well, shortly after we left I guess.
Me:    -_-


The one thing we could always count on with him was his humor. He hid his Alzheimer's very well behind his teasing. The last few times I saw him, I'm not entirely sure he knew who I was. However, when I walked out the door he would always say, "Hey! You behave now!"
"I always do, Grandpa."
"Yeah, I don't believe that for a minute."


My grandfather gave me a kiss before I left for Niger four years. He leaned down and kissed me right behind my ear.
"That way you won't lose it," he said.

I have never lost it.



He had Alzheimer's, but to the very end he knew the people he loved--even if he couldn't put a name with them.






My favorite part of this picture is that everyone in it loves Jesus. 

My second favorite part is that it looks like I might be standing in a hole. I come from big people. 

Anyway, back to Jesus and family.

What a great legacy to leave! 

Well done, Grandpa! Well done indeed!

He lived for 88 years and took care of all of us. He taught us how to drive tractors, play jokes on people, sing, milk a cow, repair equipment, read the Bible, hit 'boomers' while driving silage truck, and nurse baby animals to health. We listened to him hum as he worked and sat as he told his stories of growing up during the Great Depression and forming a harvest crew in the 1940s.  

Most of all, he left us a life modeled after Christ, and we all watched God bless him for that. Grandpa enjoyed life, and as soon as it became 'not so enjoyable anymore', God took him away.

Quietly.

Calmly.

Just as he had lived,
and then he was gone.

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness."
                                   -Lamentations 3:22-23

He walked a wonderful story for us to step into.


But I guess there's always room for some improvement... 
(This is why we are glad his mercies never come to an end)




Thursday, February 21, 2013

Whose Story is This?


Peter didn’t quit. If anyone had a reason to quit, he did. How unfit for ministry was he? A guy with a loud mouth and quick to act. Not only was he a disciple, he was the leader of the disciples. Jesus put him in a full on leadership position. Then he stood in front of a whole group of people just outside the building where the God of the universe was being put on trial and denied him because there was the possibility that he might face persecution. 

What if we put Peter in today’s church? A pastor of a large, nationally known church, caught on secret video denying the faith in a small group of people because he was about to be persecuted. We would have a media frenzy! The elders of the church would have pulled him aside, maybe asked him to step down or ‘take a break’ from ministry. He did, in fact, step down. After Jesus’ resurrection, where do we find Peter? Fishing. He decided he wasn’t fit for ministry either. Jesus had to go out there to get him off the water then ask three times if Peter loved him. After each “yeah, Jesus, of course I love you” Jesus had to remind him to get back to the job of ‘fishing for men’ that he had originally been called to. Three years of living, eating, and sleeping next to God incarnate, and Peter lost sight of his calling because of his shame at a mistake that he made.

Here’s where I like to catch up with Peter. He has a choice. Go back to his calling or go back to fishing. Does anyone know what he did? It was just him and some non-believers standing around that fire. No one caught him on video. No disciples were even standing around to hear him. No one had to know he screwed up. Not ever. Yet we still find this story in the Bible. Why? Because at some point, Peter realized that the glorious story of Christ’s forgiveness was more important than his own pride.

Peter could have blamed this on a lot of things. Stress, fatigue, fear, and after 3 years of chasing Jesus all over Israel and sleeping wherever they could find a place, maybe he could blame burn-out too. Heck, why not blame the whole situation on something else.

I see where Peter is coming from. I soooo get Peter! In my last post I blamed all my problems on Niger and shed some unflattering light on her. Ultimately I think we all know that it’s not Niger’s fault. My failure to give up pride and let God have control over me is my issue and can’t be blamed on anything else. I learned that in fist fights, sometimes other people who aren’t involved at all get punched, and they don’t appreciate it. Sorry I used this place as an explosion for my week of frustration.

Peter learned first hand that God speaks truth when he says “my grace is sufficient”. We can’t expect grace from others. Sometimes even Christians don’t give each other grace. But if God’s grace is truly sufficient, we can carry on. We can own up to our stories because, once again, they are the stories of God’s grace, forgiveness and provision, not of our failures.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

I’m Too Proud to Ask God for Contentedness, So I’m Going to Challenge Him to an After School Fist Fight Instead


I’ve noticed a lot of pride in myself. 

Not the good kind of pride that makes you take a shower or put on deodorant. I’m talking about the kind of pride that has me looking God square in the face and saying, “Screw you! I want things my way! We’ve played at your little game for a long time now, and this time I want stuff for me!”

Ya see, I want things. I want to be out of Africa (yesterday). I want to have an awesome, high-paying job that I love. Just once I want that annoying relationship status update on Facebook to be about me. I want to be able to go for a run down the road without worrying about security. I want to wear jeans in public. I want to go out on a random Tuesday night in a little cute dress and heals with my hot girlfriends for pizza and margaritas.  Heck, I just want to live in a place where I can go somewhere (anywhere) to see something beautiful.

So I’ve spent four years here in Niger. This country is like... all the worst parts of planet Earth piled into one place then shoved into the armpit of the world that no one notices or cares about. I feel like four years living and serving here should give me some bargaining chips with the Big Man. 

“See here, God, I’ve been like… super Christian. I’ve gone above singing on the praise team or passing out programs at church. I’ve stepped out in faith. I’ve set aside a lot of stuff to do this and I’ve been very content all this time. I think it’s time I get the frosting on the cake, mmkay? SO I’d like to order a super sexy guy who loves you to sweep me off my feet and make me a part of his triple-digit-salary life in that perfect house where I can get that perfect job and a nanny to take care of those 2 kids and the dog you’ll be giving me.”

Unfortunately for my demands, relationship with God means there are no bargaining chips. We are humans and we’re sinful. We rely entirely on Christ for redemption, and since he already gave us everything, there is nothing left to bargain for because we already have it all. In exchange, God only requires one thing from us. Everything. 

Since we’ve received everything, we’re expected to give everything.

That means that those chips I think have, don’t exist; they’re just part of the everything. 

Well, isn’t that just the great equalizer of humanity.

That means my “awesome work for Jesus” is not any greater than my brother’s awesome farming. My brother gives his everything in that farm for Jesus. I give my everything in this ministry for Jesus. We’re both in need of Christ’s everything. God is equally pleased by our “everythings”.

This leaves me one option. Contentment. 

Unfortunately, I’m so bitter about having no chips right now that I don’t even want to be content. I’m too proud to ask God for contentment because I don’t want it.

What I really want is that husband and 2.5 kids in a cute little house surrounded by a white picket fence that shines whiter than the arc-angel Gabriel. And I’m afraid that if I sit back into contentment as I have been for the past 10ish years, my life will continue on and these things will never come. Being content hasn’t brought them, so I’m going to try something new.

So God and I are ultimately at a standstill. He wants my everything. I won’t give him my contentedness or trust. And I wonder why I am feeling so miserable...



“That’s it! You and me, God! After school on the playground! 3:15! Be there! And don’t forget to bring what I want!  

“Wait. What? I’m supposed to bring what you want too?”

*Crap*  


Saturday, January 26, 2013

I Will Never Miss 2012




We all come to that time in the new year when we look back on what was. We're further removed from the events so we can see them for what they were and what they are becoming. The glance back allows us to count what was gained and what was lost.

This list seems lengthy and looks like a lot of griping. I hesitate to post it, but I've been absent from here for so long that I decided to leave it to help you catch up on what the last 12 months have brought. My heart was ugly last year. This is all I could see with my darkened eyes. Read the list with grace and patience. Or just skip it because it might just be me complaining. Either way, please know that each piece builds into who I have become am becoming.
  • Homeless
  • I moved house...still homeless.
  • I moved house again.
  • A play was produced, classes were taught, a yearbook published, exams given and graded. School dismissed
  • I over-committed myself and exhausted my spirit and my body.
  • I came to America to a joyful funeral and a wedding...and lots of family I didn't have energy to invest in.
  • I kayaked the Missouri for a summer.
  • I argued with God.
  • God spoke; I didn’t like what he had to say. 
  • I ignored him.
  • I dated a cool guy.
  • My grandmother listened to me play guitar on her porch.
  • I attempted slalom waterskiing. Failed, but had a great time!
  • My nephews played softball with me.
  • I returned to Niger and found open arms and Cool Guy.
  • I moved house again.
  • AirFrance lost my luggage.
  • Most of my best friends in Niger moved away.
  • My school flooded.
  • I waded in poo-water and stuffed books into boxes that were then floated out in canoes.
  • The job I loved got really hard.
  • God asked for obedience. I wouldn’t give.
  • Cool Guy returned to America for a short time; when he came back, he was gone for a lifetime.
  • I told a friend, "Things can't possibly get worse. It's only up from here!"
  • I wrecked my car.
  • I broke my computer screen.
  • I disappointed people whom I care deepest about.
  • I over-committed myself and exhausted my spirit and body—again.
  • I finally collapsed. 
  • I let myself be overwhelmed under a pile of my sin, inadequacy, disappointment, failures, selfishness and pride and only left my bed when I absolutely had to.
  • God gently eased my frozen fingers off of what I would not give.
  • I tried to listen as He slowly proved that it truly is better this way.
  • He taught me to pray.
  • He taught me to trust.
  • He helped me to humbly ask for and accept forgiveness.
  • He helped me persevere.
  • My mom and aunt came to visit. I apologized to them for my state.
  • A friend and I took an awesome vacation.
  • He taught me to rest.
  • We said good-bye to 2012 on Waterloo Bridge over the Thames.
  • I don’t miss that year.




In November Cool Guy called me from his lifetime away. He asked me how this would have been different if I could change one thing. What if I had gone to America instead of staying to clean up the flood? How would things have been different?
Would I change this?

My heart leapt forward.

Of course I would change it! Is this even a question? An entire element of the tragic sucky-ness of this year might have been cut out if I could change that one decision. Do I even need a brain to answer this question? I would change almost everything on that list!

And then I heard Him...

You’re forgetting. Look to me. Look at how faithful I was. Remember how I rescued you from that pit of sadness? Remember how you were completely exhausted and I enabled you to rest? Remember how I woke you up each morning and gave you courage to get up and face those things? Remember how I pulled you out of bed each day and wiped away your feelings of inadequacy and shame? Remember how I made all things possible when you finally called on my name?
You learned to ask me for help. You learned to trust me. You learned to pray your way through every moment of every day. You got to experience what it really means to rely completely on my strength alone in order to function from moment to moment. Not everyone gets to do that! You are still here because I AM.
Why would you cut out all the most beautiful parts of this story? 

*sigh*

And then I remembered that despite all the ridiculousness, James was right when he said "Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing."

Usually I just want to punch James in the face for saying this, but I know it is true because God proved it in my own life. This isn't my sob story. This is a story of the power of God.
Because where I see a year that almost destroyed me, God sees a year where he completely rescued me.

It is better this way, isn't it, Jesus?

Yes, Baby Girl, it is way better this way.



I will never miss 2012, but I am forever grateful it all happened. 



What about you? Will you miss 2012?


Friday, November 2, 2012

Tabaski

Tabaski is the festival in Niger where Muslims celebrate how Abraham didn't have to kill his son Ishmael because God sent a ram in replacement. About two weeks before this holiday the streets of Niamey are filled with rams. Rams strapped to the roofs of bush taxis, riding on motorcycles (especially hilarious when your sitting at a stop sign next to one and it takes a dump on the guy holding it), and wandering along the side of the road. This festival is a pretty big deal.  Almost as big as Christmas in the US.

Early in the morning this past Sunday, the city was calm. Then it began. The rams were slaughtered and set up to roast all day. They are roasted outside of the gate along the side of the street. In my opinion, this is just getting more dust on the meat and making it a bit more grainy, but I'm not roasting. The air of Niamey grows thick with smoke as everyone has a large fire for the roasting. My friend Lisa took some great pictures when she went out. Hope you enjoy them!



It's a bit of a prestige thing to have a large number of rams roasting outside your house. I equate it to the obnoxious house on the block that loves Christmas WAY TOO MUCH and wants everyone to know that.

Yup. Those are testicles hanging there, just...hanging there...