Flexibility - by Sam Werner

 

It’s hard to be a missionary and not be flexible.  Being a missionary means your plans can change like the wind.  Our mindset in the west is to be exact.  We need time, dates, length of stay, address, how to prepare, and the list goes on.  In the mission field, you get these things too, but they change drastically.  You may have a meeting at this address at 3pm, but an hour before the meeting,  the address changes.  This especially applies to things like church and gatherings.  You show up on time and everyone else shows up 2 hours later.  You’re expecting the meeting to be over at a certain time and it goes way over.  This runs into your sleeping time, overlapping into the next day making you feel tired.  But, you have to be flexible.  It’s the only way.  Part of it is being understanding to the culture and people.  It’s honoring.

This also applied to hearing from God.  We hear God and think it’s absolute.  We obey and things change.  We start to hear another thing.  We think, “Did I hear from God right?”  You did.  It’s just God continues to speak.  Like an onion you pull back one layer to reveal the next.  You obey the first time and it brings you to a place where God can lead to another place, a place He may have initially intended.

I have to remind myself that being flexible is in my job description.  It’s something I have to expect.  It’s something I have to take into consideration when I make arrangements with people.  I have to expect that they’ll cancel, come early, or come late.  With that in mind, I block off a few extra hours so I know how to manage my day.  Transition has to be part in your character.  If it is not, you’ll learn awfully quick.



Bio on Author

Sam Werner has been in and out of the mission field for over 10 years and is currently serving in Calcutta, India. He's served in many different organizations in several ways ranging from children's ministry to information technology. His heart is to serve God with his life and spread the gift of Jesus Christ in any way that may look. He shares his experiences on his website, www.missionsmanual.com.

Rotten Salmon - by Monte Edwards

A great evening of fellowship and worship with our host church in Jos, Nigeria was wrapped around our evening meal. The concrete walls of the church trapped a blanket of stagnate, humid air that made my clothes wet with perspiration and tested the strength of my deodorant. Nigerians, on the other hand, typically did not concern themselves with such trivialities.  

While standing in line for dinner a particularly pungent odor burned my nose – one that reminded me of the rotting salmon that lined the banks of the Kenai River near my childhood home in Alaska.  A glance to the left and then the right cast suspicion on the Nigerian Pastor standing next to me.

A couple more steps in line brought me to a bowl of slimy green paste. As I plopped a spoonful on my plate, to my horror and embarrassment, I realized this was the smell – my dinner. I grabbed a big pile of bread and some salad in hopes of diluting the flavor.

With the back of my throat closed off to block my nose, I mustered my best manufactured smile and ate the paste with the greatest haste I could muster - only once did I have to choke back a gag that nearly revealed my disgust. 

I was back in Alaska a few years ago and took a walk down to where Soldotna Creek dumps into the Kenai River. The familiar smells ignited a flood of childhood memories that, now also included a swarthy evening, a plate of slimy green paste and a slightly repulsive ache in my stomach.

I just like to take pictures of my feet - By Monte Edwards

                                            Setta, Uganda

                                         Port au Prince, Haiti

                                                Rome, Italy

 

                                         Caye Caulker, Belize