#thisisouranthem

The first time I moved I was too young to remember much of anything. It was an in-town move, just a few miles from one house to the next. From a small home where we all lived on the same level with a real wood-burning fireplace and a sandbox in the back to a tri-level home that allowed us to spread out a bit, grow strawberries in the back and get our first family dog.

At thirteen I moved again. This time to a neighboring town that was so close it felt just the same. I didn’t switch schools. I didn’t have to. But I got a bigger room.

At eighteen I left for college. Only an hour away, which had me home more often than I had planned. Whitworth University was a magical place where Jordan and I grew as individuals and as a couple. We married the same summer we graduated and immediately moved to Los Angeles, to a tiny one-bedroom apartment in the middle of the city, right off the 101 freeway.

We moved from that high-rise apartment after six months to be closer to the beach. The ocean was calling us (just like my girl Moana). Of course, we couldn’t afford to get too close, so we settled on another tiny one-bedroom apartment about 2.5 miles from the beach, just east of Santa Monica. This one had a washer and dryer and little lemon and lime trees out back.

From there we trekked to Tanzania for seven months in a two-bedroom apartment up above a curio shop on the double road in downtown Moshi. That was the biggest place we had ever lived up to that point in our marriage.

After that adventure, we found ourselves back in Los Angeles (living with Jordan’s sister and her husband for a while, then landing in a studio apartment in Santa Monica where we would bring Moses home, for one night, before we would move to a larger one-bedroom place, once again further from the beach).

When God called us out of Los Angeles when Moses was just eight months old, we lived with my family back in the same house I lived my teenage years in, for five months while we purchased our townhouse. We moved into that home at the beginning of 2013 and that was the longest I’d lived in one place since I was a teenager.

If my math isn’t off I’ve lived in eleven houses, six towns, two timezones, and two countries.

And here we are again, about to move to another country, back to Africa.

The last home was really the only home our kids have ever known. We brought Zuri home from the hospital to that home. They both learned to walk, talk and ride bikes in that home. It was home. Our home. And now we find ourselves home-less. Without a home of our own. Going from place to place with good friends and family who’ve provided a place for us to call home in this month while waiting to depart.

It’s weird. And some days it stings. The reality that we don’t have a place of our own right now, a place to go back to, a place to reset. But we know this short season is preparing us for what’s to come and it’s allowing us to further ready ourselves for this big move. There is a home waiting for us in Nairobi. We don’t know much about it and we can’t quite grasp what it’s going to be like, but it will be our new home. A place to lay our heads at the end of a long day, a place to welcome neighbors and new friends we meet, a place to worship the everlasting God.

Our prayer is not for the home itself, that it would be cute or have stainless steel appliances, or hardwood floors. Truthfully, those things come to mind (for me, not for Jordan), but in reality none of that matters. What matters is who God brings into that home, that asset for His kingdom. Our prayer is that this new place we get to call home on earth (our true home is in heaven, so they’re all just temporary homes while we’re still here on earth, amiright?) is a place where Jesus is lifted high and glorified and where many come to know him and his love for them.

I sort of feel like we’re standing on the edge of a dock right now, about to jump into unknown waters. With our kids. 

They can’t swim. 

What’s going to happen to them? What’s going to happen to us? Will we survive this jump? Will we actually be ok?

My mind can go to about a million places all at once in the span of ten seconds. I can be totally calm, relaxed and trusting the Lord one second and the next I’m wandering down this path of thinking about the worst things that can happen. Seriously. The absolute worst. 

I mean just think about getting on an airplane with a five year old and a three year old to fly to the other side of the world where they have never been and no-one speaks their language and everyone looks different than them. What in the world will that be like?!

For many people, myself included at times, that sounds downright terrifying. The fear of the unknown is a powerful emotion. But for us, the thought of landing in Kenya with our kids in tow this time (when we lived in Tanzania in 2010 we also flew into Kenya, to the very same airport where we’ll be landing in just a few short weeks) is so incredibly exhilarating. That place has our hearts. And God has made sure that we’ve never let it go. 

When Moses was born, a little over a year after we got back from Tanzania, I remember being so overwhelmed with taking care of this new little life that God had entrusted us with. I was terrified I’d ruin him, break him, or just mess it all up. I was drowning in some sort of undiagnosed post-partum depression and even though I couldn’t put my finger on it at that time, I knew something was wrong. And the thing I remember most clearly from that period in my life was crying out to God, asking him how in the world I was going to do this, and questioning if we could ever get back to Africa now with this tiny human as part of our family. I was angry at God for my breastfeeding problems, I was frustrated at him because I wasn’t immediately better at this whole mothering thing, and I was bitter toward him because I thought, “If I can’t take care of this tiny human well in America, there’s no way I can take care of him well in Africa.”

But do you know what God said to me? He very clearly whispered, “Just as I’ve called you and Jordan to Africa, now I am calling Moses and any other little lives I bless you with.”

It was as simple as that. But from that moment on Jordan and I have known this adventure was never meant for just us. It was never meant to be done alone, without Moses and Zuri. And so now, as we are actually taking this plunge into the great unknown with our kids, we are only clinging to His hand, trusting that He will not let us sink, but that instead there is life on the other side. Life abundant. Waiting for us.

Jordan and I are right smack in the middle of the most challenging time of our lives. No joke.

This whole process of inviting others into our call and preparing to move our entire family to the other side of the globe is bringing us to the end of ourselves (and if you know my story with birthing and then trying to breastfeed Moses, and the postpartum depression that followed, you know that’s really saying something). This is the hardest thing we’ve ever done. Hands down.

But this process has refined us in a way that nothing else ever has. 

And it’s shown us so many areas where God wants us to grow. And we truly believe it’s preparing us for what’s to come in Africa. 

When we moved to Tanzania in 2010, we did not invite others into it, we did not raise our own support. We had both been working full-time in Los Angeles prior to that move, and we planned to go for an initial seven-month commitment to define the role God had for us there. We were self-supported for those seven months. Self-sufficient. Truly independent.

The plan was, at the end of that time, to come back to the states and then be able to communicate the vision God had given us, thus being much better equipped to actually invite others into the work He had called us to for the long-term (since we were on a student visa and then planned to be on a volunteer visa - we would not be allowed to earn an income in Tanzania, just like we aren’t allowed to earn an income in Kenya). And, at that point, we would have a much better idea of what it would actually cost for us to live there (at that time, we were sent by a very small church, not a sending agency, and no one had a full grasp on what it would take for a couple, or family, to live in Moshi, Tanzania full-time).

If you know our story, you know none of those plans unfolded like we had hoped. 

We actually haven’t stepped foot on that beautiful, red, African soil since we flew back to the states at the end of that seven-month initial time-period nearly seven years ago. Have I said seven enough times? Are you still following?

We left an apartment full of belongings - clothes, dishes, furniture. And friends. We said “see you soon” not knowing we would never live there again. God had other plans, and we’ve taken a seven-year (there’s that word again) detour to learn some things (a lot of things!) and better prepare for what’s to come. One of the biggest things we’ve learned is this: it is SO much easier to go without inviting other people to be a part of it, without raising support (SO. MUCH. EASIER.), but it’s also SO much lonelier, and in the long run, probably (definitely) much more detrimental to our life and ministry. 

Let me explain. 

Those seven months we were in Tanzania in 2010 were some of the loneliest months of our lives. We didn’t have a team of people who were faithfully giving and investing into the work God had called us to. Granted, we didn’t know what we were called to, and that wasn’t our sending church’s fault. We didn't take the time to build relationships with people back home who would stand with us in prayer and through faithful giving. We didn’t ask. We were going to. We just never got to that point.

This time around we are taking the time to persevere through this incredibly humbling task God has placed before us - inviting others to be a part of the work He’s called us to in Africa before we go. This time we are asking our brothers and sisters in Christ to take ownership in the people and the ministry our work represents, to join with us through prayer and faithful giving to see those who don’t know Christ in Africa, those from Unreached People Groups specifically, have the chance to learn about Jesus. Both the trials and the triumphs of our ministry belong in part to our monthly and annual partners. And we’re not just saying that. This is not just us going and everyone else staying. This is us going with a team of people who are investing in the work we’re going to do. 

Our team stands with us when the work is hard, and they rejoice with us when the work is worth celebrating.  

As missionaries with Africa Inland Mission, we depend month to month and year to year on individuals and families who commit to be prayer and financial partners - people who may not themselves be called to move to Africa, but who choose to be a part of God’s provision for the sending of our family. So we can do the work God’s called us to do. People who believe in our family, believe in our call. People who will pray for us, stand with us, love us and send us well. People who won’t receive any tangible benefits in return for their gifts (except the privilege of investing in something that is eternal - the chance for people from Unreached People Groups to come to know Christ).

Jesus says in Matthew 6:21, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” 

In essence, we are asking people to put their treasure into something that has no return for them on this earth (but that has an incredible return in heaven!) so that our hearts can be aligned. We’re giving up our lives here in the states - our predictable, comfortable, stable lives. And it’s hard. The hardest thing we’ve ever done. But it is so worth it - even if just one person comes to know Christ through it. 

I think sometimes in our self-sufficient, independent culture we really struggle with the idea of missionaries raising support. 

“Why can’t they work?” we ask. 

“I work. Why should I give my hard-earned money so they don’t have to work?”

I’ve had those exact same thoughts. I’ve struggled with those exact same feelings. But as I’ve actually asked God what He thinks and what His will is, I’ve come to realize a few things.

First, missionaries ARE working. I truly believe that. But you may not, so hear me out here. Missionaries do many of the same tasks that pastors and staff of local churches do. In fact, they often wear many hats and play the role of pastor, administrator, evangelist, teacher, etc. Do we believe they are “working”? If we tithe our money to a local church, we must believe in what the pastors and staff are doing; we must believe their work is worthy of a wage if it’s worthy of our investment. 

Second, many missionaries can’t work for a wage in the country they’re serving in. Often, missionaries are allowed to be in the country they’re serving in on a missionary/church/volunteer visa, which prohibits them from actually earning any sort of wage (this is the case for us in Kenya). The reason for this is also so we’re not taking viable jobs away from natives. Just because we’re educated in the West and capable of earning a wage in Kenya doesn’t mean we should. Think about feelings that sometimes arise when jobs in your passport country go to foreigners instead of locals...Our aim is to share the gospel, make disciples, and make much of Jesus, and we must throw off anything that would hinder that.

That leads me to my third point. What about missionaries who are using the “Business as Mission” model? If you aren’t aware, there are missionaries out there who are earning a wage in the country they’re in. Most often, that’s because the countries they’re in don’t actually allow missionaries to move in and share the gospel. You literally cannot get a visa if you are a believer, even to come in as a volunteer. So, in order to share the gospel in these places, missionaries have to run their own business or work as doctors, teachers, etc. We think Business as Mission is an incredible model. Truly we do. Someday, we may be called to a closed country. Someday Kenya may become closed. So when there is no other option, we think this is an amazing way to share the gospel. But think about this - the Business as Mission model is essentially the same as asking the pastors and staff of our local churches to also run their own business, or work as doctors, teachers, etc - the focus now has to be split. There’s a business to run and a wage to be earned, which leaves less time for sharing the gospel and making disciples. 

If you’ve read the new testament, then you probably know Paul as a tent-maker. That means he worked a job to support himself while he ministered in a few different places. He literally made tents. That was his job. But he didn’t do it all the time. He did it on three occasions in his thirty-plus years of ministry. The total time spent making tents was maybe one sixth of ministry career. Much more often, he didn’t make tents. He told people about Jesus. He planted churches and shared the gospel with countless individuals who he came into contact with. He made disciples. He was a pastor, shepherd, evangelist, and teacher. And many, many people supported his “work” along the way. 

We feel so incredibly blessed to walk in Paul’s footsteps as missionaries. And although at this point, we will not be tent-makers, we will no doubt be working constantly. Jordan will be using his gift of photography in a very tangible way everyday. Much of his work will be used to spur on African believers to be missionaries to their own people - just like we use media to spur one another on here. And I haven’t shared much about this yet, but I am actively seeking out opportunities to get involved with family-based orphan care in Nairobi. God’s word clearly calls us as believers to take care of the least of these, which most notably includes orphans and widows, and my heart is to see orphans grow up in nurturing, permanent families where they have the opportunity to know the love of our Heavenly Father. I do feel I’ve been given the gifts of administration and organization and it would be an absolute joy to me to do that kind of “work”!

Genesis 12:1-3 says “Now the Lord said to Abram, ‘Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”

Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!”

Isaiah 49: 6 says, “I will make you as a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”

Matthew 28:18-20 says, “And Jesus came and said to them, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. GO THEREFORE AND MAKE DISCIPLES OF ALL NATIONS, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’

Revelation 5:9 says “For you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation.”

God has already ransomed for himself people from EVERY people group on earth. It’s already been promised. He will do it. And even though He doesn’t need our help to do it, He has asked all of us who call ourselves Christians to play a role in seeing people come to know Him.

For us, that means moving to Nairobi, Kenya. 

Nearly 4 million people live in Nairobi. 

Many of them are believers. But many of them are from unreached people groups. What does it mean to be unreached? An unreached people is a people group among which there is no indigenous community of believing Christians with adequate numbers and resources to evangelize that people group. 

Just like in the states, historically, people have migrated to cities for the chance at a better life - for themselves and for their children, for education and for jobs. Many of the unreached in Nairobi come for these same reasons more. Some have fled violence in their homeland, they are refugees, they have lost everything. Really, there’s a wide range of reasons people from unreached people groups have migrated to Nairobi. Since that is now where we will call home, we are learning all we can about these people and we are praying for God to put us in relationship with them, to provide housing near them and to give us favor with them as we share the gospel with them. 

According to the Joshua Project (a research initiative seeking to highlight the ethnic people groups of the world with the fewest followers of Christ) there are at least 10 completely unreached people groups that are largely represented in Nairobi. And that number doesn’t include people from unreached people groups that aren’t largely represented in Nairobi - people who could still be our neighbors, whose kids could still go to school with our kids, who might be in a soccer league with us, etc. But, based on what we do know, there are at least an estimated 350,000 people who would be considered unreached living in Nairobi.

Have you ever really thought about the sacrifice God asked Abraham to make when He commanded him to give his son Isaac on the altar? Isaac was probably the most treasured thing in Abraham’s life. He had waited 100 years for this promised child to arrive, and he loved him with all his heart. Then, not too many years later, God asked Abraham to give him up. And not only to give him up, but to be the one who would take his life from him. Can you even imagine that? Really. Think about it for a minute.

Sacrificial giving is the kind of giving that is done at great personal cost to the giver. Abraham was willing to make that kind of sacrifice. And I believe God is still asking us today to make those kinds of sacrifices. No, I’m not advocating that God is asking any of us to go up on a mountain and sacrifice our children. Please, let’s get that straight. But I do believe God has called us all to give sacrificially. 

What does that mean?

Abraham’s call to sacrifice Isaac was foreshadowing of the ultimate sacrifice God would one day make with his only Son, the son whom he loved - Jesus. This great biblical example of ultimate sacrifice is God’s gift of himself (in human form as Jesus) to make atonement for sins and to graft those of us who believe in Him into the kingdom of God. This was done at unimaginable cost to the giver (1 John 3:16), just like Abraham’s sacrifice would have been had he actually had to go through with it. 

Obviously, our greatest sacrifices are not even in the same league with God’s ultimate sacrifice in Jesus. But those of us who are believers are called to be imitators of our Lord (indeed we were all created to bear his image), and for that reason we must contemplate what it means to give our very best, to give that which pains us to lose.

Unfortunately, it is absolutely possible to give without suffering any loss. It’s easy, and in fact I would argue that we, as Americans, typically engage in this kind of giving - giving out of our excess, more often than actually giving sacrificially. When a family donates a bag of old clothes to the Salvation Army, or when a multi-billionaire gives an impressive-sounding six-figure contribution, they feel no loss because it is in their best interest to get rid of those things anyway (we’re all familiar with tax write-off’s aren’t we?). Strictly speaking, in the words of author Randy Alcorn, this is not giving at all but “selective disposal”. This kind of giving is fine, in fact it’s much better than throwing old clothes or money away, but there is nothing distinctively Christian about it. It doesn’t fit in the “sacrificial giving” category.

Let’s talk about wealth for a second.

The median household income for the United States is around $45,000. If you take a second to plug that number into the Global Rich List you’ll quickly see that the average American is in the top 0.41% of the richest people in the world by income. 

But wealth isn’t just about income. A wealthy person, by definition, is someone who has so much money (or assets) that he/she can weather losses with ease. The very function of wealth is to shield its owner so that it is hard for him/her to do anything at great personal cost. Indeed, for this very reason Jesus says “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God” (Luke 18:24). It is not that the poor are more righteous in God’s sight than the rich. We are all equally hopeless (Romans 3:10). It’s just that the rich are more likely to try to get along without God’s help. 

Would your life look any different if Christ weren’t in it?

I think most of us would agree that trusting God often involves taking steps of faith in areas where we feel uncomfortable. It’s just too easy to hunker down in places where we feel adequate and shy away from those things that may expose our weaknesses. But as we are on our way to the mission field, we are faced with what may be our toughest challenge yet - asking people for money. It’s what Christians call “raising support” and it’s not easy, even for someone who raises funds for a local non-profit for a living. I’m raising those funds “for the kids,” not for myself...

Of course Jordan and I wholeheartedly believe we should invest in helping the gospel go to all nations. We have supported a number of missionaries and initiatives over the years that have done just that. But now we have to invite others to consider whether the Lord is calling them to invest in US. It feels like a whole different ballgame.

And stepping into this new role has really made us think, and pray, and ponder over these past six months. Here are some of our thoughts on this whole idea of “support raising.”

1. Talking about money quickly exposes who (or what) we actually worship.

Money almost always seems to be an awkward conversation topic because money, in a mysterious way, often represents our life. As I mentioned in my last blog post, Jesus lived a simple life marked by generosity and underconsumption. He tells us that life involves much more than our possessions (Matthew 6:25), but his words challenge a powerful and invisible assumption: that our money, our wealth, gives us our meaning, our life. 

Money makes better promises than almost anything else. It represents safety, security, pleasure, and self-worth - all things our culture places a very high value on. The more money we accumulate, the more blurry the line gets between our life and our wealth. We start living for money, instead of using money to live. Our hearts are so prone to idolatry that wealth quickly makes us slaves without letting us know. If God took a spiritual X-ray of our hearts as modern Americans, I think we would all see more dysfunction than we would like to admit.

That’s one reason asking for money can be awkward. We have to confront our own messed-up hearts. Have we been as generous as we are asking others to be? Are we anxious about this process because we are trusting money to make our ministry go forward? At the same time, we cannot be tempted to say, “Give because it’s easy” or “Give only if you have extra you don’t need” or to guilt people into giving. That would be asking for counterfeit generosity, generosity so small and light it does not demand us asking who (or what) we worship. 

When our worship is directed at the Giver of all Life, it changes the way we look at money, changes the way we look at asking others for money. After all, money is just our servant, not our master.

2. Grace changes everything.

At its core, grace is giving what others don’t deserve. When grace changes our hearts, our love deepens to something stronger than emotions or friendship. True love stands on the bedrock of grace: we want to love others by being willing to give what will bless them. This is why the lack of a generous heart reveals a poverty of grace. In 2 Corinthians 9 Paul rebukes the wealthy Corinthians for not giving more. He casually reminds them of the need (verses 1-4). But then he speaks to their hearts: “For your generosity to them and to all believers will prove that you are obedient to the Good News of Christ” (verse 13). A lack of generosity proves we are obedient to the “bad news” of trusting our money. We let it call the shots in our lives. But generosity announces we are obeying good news: news of grace that God is working in us. 

3. Asking people to partner with us is actually giving them the opportunity to invest in something eternal.

How many of the things we invest our money in are eternal? Really. Think about that. We invest our money in our houses, our cars, our temporal needs (food, clothing, hygiene), our pleasures (going out to eat, movies, concerts, vacations). But imagine investing in something that would not pass away, or die with you. Imagine if you found a field where whatever was planted in it would grow to last forever. And what if you had friends who had barns full of seeds, much of which was sitting on the shelves or going into soil that produced plants that only lasted for a few weeks? It would be a no-brainer. You would ask your friends for the seeds. Not because you are needy, but because you had discovered such amazing soil and you cared about your friends. Africa is full of rich soil where gospel seeds will grow forever. It’s a privilege to be able to plant in this soil. And it’s a privilege to challenge others to give their seeds to plant in this soil.

4. God provides through people.

You know those people who pick one word to focus on for the entire upcoming year, sort of like a new years resolution, but far more simple? They identify just one word that centers on their character and perhaps creates vision for their future. They choose just one word that represents what they most hope God will do in them and they focus on it for an entire year? I know lots of people who choose a word for the year, and I've heard lots of stories about how that word has shaped their year when it's all said and done, but I've never taken the time to really pray about and choose one word for myself. But this year I'm in.

I'm not big on new years resolutions. I've never been able to keep one for an entire year. To be honest, I've never really tried. I think the whole idea of it has always been something that just doesn't interest me. I've wondered "what's the point"? So, this year, instead of thinking about a new years resolution I'll never keep, I'm reflecting on 2016 and looking ahead to 2017 by allowing God to lead and direct me to a single word. I'm committing to it wholeheartedly and I'm going to allow it to transform me. And the word that keeps coming to mind, the word that won't let go of me, is simple.

Simple.

Jesus described and lived a simple life marked by generosity and underconsumption. Let me say that agin. Jesus was all about generosity and underconsumption. Having just lived through what was likely to be my last American Christmas (at least for a while), I am taking lots of time to reflect and pray on those two things. Generosity and underconsumption. Giving more and spending less.

It's simple really.

My life is about to get very crazy. Our family is moving to the other side of the globe to tell people about the simple God-man who came down and lived a life marked by generosity and underconsumption, and I think our best bet to actually display his love to the world is to live like he lived. To live simply. So, even in the midst of this crazy transition, we will simplify. We will get rid of the things and we will become minimalists. We will move with just the essentials, fit our life into a few suitcases and be better off because of it.