"Overwhelmed by Grace"

I never really enjoyed roller coasters. The queasy feeling one gets as the car slowly inches to the top of an incline from which it will suddenly drop—and along with it your stomach—never held much appeal for me. I don’t mind the twists and turns so much; it’s the ups and downs that get me. The last couple of weeks of my life have been a roller coaster about as enjoyable to me as the Tennessee Tornado.

            My workload on the teaching and learning side has continued to be strenuous. Thankfully, I’m greatly enjoying everything that I’m teaching as well as the subject matter of my online course, but both are laborious. The last few weeks have involved several staff miscarriages and the death of staff member’s loved ones despite arduous prayer. Such difficulties have a way of shaking one’s faith, but we hold to the hope that God will shortly rebuild it stronger than ever before. The most challenging aspect of the last couple of weeks has come from my endeavors to offer counsel to my students. Knowing that I lacked the training and knowledge to provide real therapy, I began the year intending to offer what I could for my students—a listening ear, intercession, any wisdom God chose to impart, and love. It’s all I got. (Yes, I’m been making use of other tools as well—literature, connections, etc.) After some discouraging and confusing experiences, I’m tempted to think what I have is not enough. Such is the feeling, but what is the truth? Though it often escapes me, I must believe 2 Corinthians 9:8 “And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.” The New Living translation says “And God will generously provide all you need. Then you will always have everything you need and plenty left over to share with others.” So I suppose it comes down to a contest between what I feel and what God says is true. I suppose it’s the same contest that mankind has been battling since the beginning of time.

            Sufficed to say, there have been some real downers lately (including also intense spiritual battles within members of our little American House). Desperation has been prevalent in our school, our house, and my heart. Granted, desperation is not bad, it’s just hard. But now this…

            I was chatting with a friend from back home last week and gained great encouragement. She, too, was presented with some life struggles—circumstances that should have overwhelmed her. But instead of being overwhelmed by circumstances, this was her response (she’ll just have to forgive me for publicizing our private conversation; it was just too good):

         “…However, I am still quite overwhelmed by the presence of grace in my life









.

                          

         
There is still suffering
… 




I suffer and I see other people suffer.




 And its not that the suffering is "good.” 




But I can handle it better because I can see the grace.




 Suffering doesn't lead to grace, 




but grace is available even in the suffering




. It’s like the time when I first got glasses as a kid




 and I put them on and went outside and I finally realized what the world looked like. The world was still the same, but my perception was changed.











I am thankful for everything. Like, I see things that I normally wouldn't notice and I feel grateful for their existence.




 And I think that's the key there. I am so grateful that I don't have time to notice how miserable I am.”

I was struck. To be placed in overwhelming circumstances and yet be overwhelmed by grace. Yes. It must be possible for me, too.

         Indeed, such proved possible for me a couple of days ago as a storm blew into Ibadan. Nigerians often find Americans’ love for storms to be alarming. As the black billowing clouds drew close, I found it an acceptable time to go for a jog, despite our gateman’s ardent warning that “It’s going to fall!” (referring to the rain, of course). Upon my return, I sat down in the middle of the rain and asked God to open my eyes to His glory. And wouldn’t you know… I was quickly awestruck at the beauty of His creation. The fallen leaf slowly drifting down the newly formed stream, the sting of the cold drops falling on my bare arms, the dancing trees cast against a background of swirling clouds, accompanied by a rain-on-tin-roof orchestra. Opening my eyes and heart to such beauty left me… overwhelmed. “Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me.” And as I sat in the midst of the falling grace, it was as if I heard His still small voice again—“I love you.”

So the question: Will I see the storms of life as cause for overwhelming anxiety, or will I see the effects of the rain as evidence of his overwhelming grace? May God grant the latter.

Before signing off, I’d like to raise one more prayer point. There seems to be a growing Muslim presence at our school, and with it a felt sense of oppression. Students and parents who, unlike last year, are coming to school covered in black,  students (even those in whom Christ’s work has lately been evident) boldly proclaiming their commitment to Islam, and new students entering the school seemingly secure in their religion, and yet oppressed. We are excited about the increased access to more hearts that Christ died to set free, but are also aware of the enemy’s presence. So, for those willing, I ask you to join us in this spiritual battle (distance is no object for God) by asking our Father for the hearts of these whom He already loves, though they know Him not. Please pray that God would use the Bible classes, daily devotions, and interpersonal interactions to penetrate through darkness and bring light and life to those in need. 

"I love you, too"

In Nigeria, to refrain from warmly greeting those around you is a major offense. Offering a warm “Good morning!” or “Good afternoon!” is recognizing and respecting the existence and humanity of the other.  The most severe “chewing out” that I’ve received since being here the past couple of years was from the mother of an ACA student (not one whom I taught or even knew at the time) who I walked by without greeting. It was serious. With the establishment of greetings as a form of respect, and respect a form of love, allow me to share a revelation.

Last year I developed deep and fruitful relationships with many of my students in Senior School, many whom I counseled or mentored in some way. I’ve grown to deeply love my students and want nothing more than to see them thrive and embrace the life of freedom and abundance that God has planned for them.  While it doesn’t shake my love for them in the least, it’s interesting how little any reciprocal love is displayed from them. I mean, when I directly and blatantly confront them with my love, they may feel compelled to recognize mutual affection. For example, when chatting with one student about her struggles in my little counseling room, I may tell her “I love you,” to which she may reply “I love you, too.” Any other time however, when passing in the hall or in class, the same student may even fail to make eye contact or greet me (i.e. fail to recognize my existence, fail to respect, fail to love).  Such a situation set me to thinking – Is this not often how I interact with God? Though He is constantly watching, caring for, even adoring me, it’s only in “special” situations, when He’s practically yelling “I LOVE YOU!” into my ear that I even attempt to reciprocate and display my love for Him.  I’m thankful that God understands our nature; he understands that we are like the grass of the field blowing this way and that, as a flower so quickly lost of all fragrance and beauty, as dust unable to hold our own shape or position. Having compassionately created and therefore known our nature, He is willing to proclaim His love for us at times loudly and wildly. And when we are finally directly and blatantly confronted with His love, then we are compelled, not from external force but from an internal welling, to mumble back, “I love you, too.” For what else but a mumble is our declaration of love compared to His?

________________________________________________________________________

Things are off to a great start here at ACA. I’m looking forward now to the second full week of school in which, hopefully, most of the students yet to arrive will make an appearance. I’m greatly enjoying my classes so far. As I teach more Language Arts classes, I grow in my appreciation of language and the ability to communicate clearly, precisely, and powerfully to influence and touch hearts and minds. Hopefully, I can teach my students to do the same.

Beginning Bible classes with the Jesus Storybook Bible has been a blast. Perhaps teaching about God shouting “I Love You” through creation and His written word is what inspired the above thoughts. I was thrilled last week to meet a new strong Muslim family in our school who just moved here from Lebanon. It’s always exciting to have the opportunity to share Jesus with people who have never ever heard the Gospel.

Clubs begin this week. Why am I teaching 5 clubs? I don’t know. But, they should mostly hopefully all be fun. I’m most anticipating the Girls Discipleship Club, which starts Wednesday. At the end of last year, God did an awesome work in the club and I am expecting Him to continue to reveal His Truth and Love to these girls. Two 9^th grade girls have agreed to help lead the club. I pray that God blesses and grows their faith as they learn to lead and that He uses them to reach the hearts of their peers.  Thanks for joining me in prayer for this club and all the girls that God chooses to bring into our midst.

One last little prayer request for those who are interested in the small stuff: I’m taking this online Abnormal Psychology course, and it’s more of a beast than I expected. So, staying on top of Lesson Planning, Grading, AND this class is going to be a nice challenge. His grace is sufficient.

Oh…and one more: The new teachers here (Sam and Liz) need some supernatural strength and grace to handle the new challenges of school and Nigerian culture.  Thanks, folks. 

My new counseling room.

Full of Praise and Ready to Work

This morning’s staff praise and worship session provided the first opportunity for me to lead worship since June.  And, boy, do I have reason to worship.  God continues to show me his kindness in ways that I in no way deserve. 

Since returning to ACA, I’ve been repeatedly asked, “How was your summer?” My response? “Perfect.” Now, I realize that “perfect” is perhaps a bit hyperbolic, but really, I stand in awe of the blessings I received this summer. From a wedding celebration with many greatly missed friends, to miraculous week of disability camp, to incredibly encouraging updates from friends, to a stimulating and successful A&P II course, to a beautiful reunion in Hillsdale; I’ve had a blast. Top that off with an amazingly supportive family and an unprecedented amount of encouragement and prayer from my church, and I’m just overflowing! I so appreciated the opportunities I had throughout the summer (in lieu of an adequately updated blog…) to share the work that God did last year in my life and in the school. He has done far more than we could ever ask or imagine, and I take joy in testifying to His faithfulness.  As good as last year was at ACA, and as super as my summer was, I am fully expecting God to do even greater things this coming school year. 

            After a 24 hr. trip from Knoxville to Lagos, I arrived at ACA this past Sunday night. The house was a bit of a wreck when we arrived, partly due to the construction around the compound and partly due to the inevitable mold/mildew growth and rodent infestation. After a few days of unpacking, deep cleaning, throwing out dead rats, and organizing, we’re finally settling in. The three Tennesseeans (Gretchen, Meghan, and I) have been joined this year in the American House by two new teachers, Samantha and Elizabeth.  With God’s grace guiding us, it will be a great group.

            My job description has shifted again this year. Along with some upper level Language Arts classes, I’ll be attempting some counseling—both for emotional needs and college prep. I’m excited to continue leading worship and teaching Bible classes, this year using the Jesus Storybook curriculum—and by the way, if you haven’t read the Jesus Storybook, you’re really missing out. I was so privileged last year to see a large number of students embrace the Gospel for the first time. I anticipate that God will pull many more hearts to Himself this year as His Truth is spread throughout this school.

            Students arrive next Tuesday.  There’s plenty to do before then in preparation. But all work for now is done in the great expectation that God will continue to be faithful as our Provider, our Guide, our Prince of Peace, and our Faithful Friend.

            After plenty of encouragement from friends and family this summer, I have every intention of updating my blog more frequently than last year. We’ll see how long my resolution stands… 

"Though he were dead, yet shall he live..."

When a freshman in college, I read and fell in love with Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. Perhaps the most gripping interaction in the book takes place between Raskolnikov, who has just committed a brutal murder, and Sonia, a desperate prostitute. Sonia, looking into the wretched, despairing eyes of Raskolnikov, reads St. John’s account of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead and at the same time opening the blind eyes of the disbelieving Jews. The story brings magnificent hope to Sonia as she considers this man before her whom she has begun to love: “And he, he—too, is blinded and unbelieving, he, too, will hear, he, too, will believe, yes, yes! At once, now," was what she was dreaming, and she was quivering with happy anticipation.”

My recent thought processes and experiences have led me to remember my love for Dostoevsky, especially the beauty with which he composed this scene (indeed, I intend to begin the novel again immediately upon finishing this blog post).  I’m coming to understand more deeply the needs and hurts of my students, friends, and neighbors around the world.  Finding myself without the capacity to heal, nurture, and satisfy them, yet having the desire to see them enjoy life abundant, I, like Sonia, find great hope in the John 11 passage.  Sure, I have serious flaws and limitations, but Jesus… JESUS!!!  Perhaps, contrary to my too-frequent opinion, my job is not be the Jesus in the story, but to be the Martha who called upon Jesus and—though the Savior did not arrive until after her brother’s death—trusted completely in the power that Jesus had to bring life from death.

I think it no coincidence that, at the same time that I had been dwelling upon the story of Christ’s resurrecting power, my Bible Curriculum told me to teach on John 11. Perhaps He’s trying to teach me something here… What a joy it has been this past week to begin reading the story of Lazarus and the unbelieving onlookers with my students, many of whom desperately need to hear the voice of Jesus clearly saying, “Come forth!” and need to be freed from the stinking grave clothes which bind them. It is with great hope that I read this story to those before me whom I have begun to love: “And these, these—too, are blinded and unbelieving, these, too, will hear, these, too, will believe, yes, yes! At once, now!”

Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in Me though he were dead, yet shall he live. – John 11: 25

"Fixing our eyes on Him..."

Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” (Matt. 14:29-30).

I find questions inquiring about my status, such as “How are you?” and “How’s life?” to be a bit difficult to answer these days. The most honest answer I can give is, “It depends on who or what I’m looking at.” When Peter was walking on water but surrounded by crashing waves, his answer to such questions may have greatly varied from one moment to the next. He most likely felt utter euphoria as his arms and gaze extended towards Jesus; after all, Peter was manifesting the power of God as he miraculously stepped out onto the water. Yet, when the torrential storm and tumultuous waters won his attention, his elation quickly turned to extreme trepidation and desperation. I, like Peter, have a tendency of submitting to the winds which vie for my attention.  The truth is that God’s power and grace is being constantly displayed in and around me. My appreciation of such beautiful works is less constant.

            The past month at the American Christian Academy has been busy, hectic, and awesome for “Ms. Lee Anne” (again, depending on where my focus lands). If I’m not mistaken, this is the first time that I’ve been able to sit down without school work for more than thirty minutes without feeling guilty. The day after I arrived (Jan. 2) I began teaching a full load of classes, hoping that my Jet Lag would not cause too much teacher absurdity. My diverse class schedule keeps me on my toes—in one day, literally, jumping from 12^th grade composition to 4^th grade English to 8^th Grade literature to Preschool music to 2^nd and 3^rd grade Bible to 10^th grade debate (stringy sentences such as these, I tell my students, are exhausting to read—but so is my schedule). I’m lovin’ it.

            Perhaps my favorite twenty minutes of the week comes on Thursdays when I make my way to the pre-nursery and nursery classes (my students from last year). I’m still so in love with those kiddos. Their smiles, hugs, and giggles brighten my week. Best moment? When, in the middle of “I just want to be a Sheep” I begin “crying” because “I don’t want to be a SADduccee” and all 30 kids attack me, patting my head and saying “Sorry, Ms. Lee Anne! Sorry!” They say you need so many meaningful touches a day; well, that moment lasts me a week.

            Some of my senior school classes have had the opposite effect on my mental and emotional state over the past couple of weeks. Trying to motivate students to, say, learn to write or develop a debate case, when they find it an unnecessary and impossible task, is a constant uphill battle. I’m just begging for God’s continued grace and patience as I engage in such battles.

            On the spiritual front, God has been blasting away at the enemy. It’s been awesome to see Him softening hearts and creating within them a hunger for His deliverance. Two weeks ago began a series of conversations and talks with the second grade class after Bible class which resulted in several of them (including a couple from Muslim families) choosing to believe in and follow Jesus. Though I had not yet told them of Jesus’ death and resurrection, they were desperate to know this Jesus whom we have been reading about in Bible. At one point, I was walking by the playground when I was startled by several young girls running at me and yelling, “We want to know God!! We want to know God!!” Well, my friends, He wants that, too! It is the greatest privilege and blessing to be a part of the expansion of the Kingdom of God in this way.

            In other news, I had my first pedicure ever today… in Nigeria; odd, I know. My feet feel…soft. Also, our well is dry. In case you’re wondering, going four days without washing your hair is not THE greatest feeling.

            Overall, I am thankful for the ways that God is showing me His grace, using me, and drawing me closer to Himself. I’m grateful for multiplying opportunities to speak into the lives of several senior-school girls who are struggling to figure out life. I praise God for this environment in which He is stretching and molding me more into His likeness. The key, I reckon, is for me to continue fixing my eyes on Him, the author and perfector of my faith (Heb 12:2).

Thank you for your continued prayer.

Seasonal Felicitations from Nigeria!

The Christmas season has officially commenced. Tonight’s commemoration of the start of Christmastime included a big screen viewing of Elf with A/Cs on full blast while sipping hot chocolate. We are amazingly blessed to have the capabilities of creating such a serene atmosphere in the African heat. With power out for most of the last couple of days, the playing of Christmas music has failed to give our sweating bodies the feeling of a Winter Wonderland. But we thank God for the comforts and small pleasures that he grants us. 

Thursday’s holiday did indeed give rise to much giving of thanks. Our Thanksgiving feast took place at the South African compound. About 25 friends (many of whom have become like family) joined in the festivities, representing a total of 10 different countries. It was definitely the most international Thanksgiving that I’ve ever had. While I wasn’t feeling quite up to par, I surely was feeling thankful. For, Thursday was the first day of the week that I wasn’t severely suffering from the effects of malaria.

Ah, yes, Malaria. It’s pretty much a given that, upon living here for any significant amount of time, you’ll experience the ever-common illness. I had supposedly contracted it briefly last spring, but it wasn’t anything like this week. They called it GI Malaria. Upon my first visit to the hospital, they more than sufficiently medicated me (by “more than sufficiently” I may mean OVER-medicated…). After the first couple days of malaria symptoms, the side effects of the drugs took over—that is, COMPLETE fatigue. I was wiped out to the point that I couldn’t teach for the majority of the week. Sitting at home, waiting for my body to heal was agonizing. But, I am ever so thankful for the care that my comrades here in the compound showed me—multiple visits to the hospital, waiting on me hand-and-foot, forcing me to rest. They were a huge blessing. During the Thanksgiving meal, I gave thanks, in all sincerity, not just for my improving health, but also for my sickness—for two reasons. First, though it seemed miserable most of the time, I’m thankful that I was forced to slow down and just sit. In so doing, I came to the realization that, in fact, the world does NOT depend upon me, and I don’t have to feel the weight of supposed dire responsibilities as heavily as I had been. Secondly, my sickness gave me a great appreciation for health and the ability to work. I mean, honestly, I was never so happy to work as I was on Friday when I stepped foot into class with a mostly cleared mind and a somewhat energized body. What fools we are to take such things for granted. So, this Thanksgiving week, I am, INDEED, grateful to God for His inestimable blessings.

This upcoming week is the final full week of school for the term. What a wonderful term it has been.  I am extremely thankful for the meaningful relationships that I’ve been able to form with many of my students. I am prayerfully trusting that God is using such relationships to produce fruit which is pleasing to Him. I am thankful for the awesome discussions that I’ve been able to lead in various classes—discussions, which, I hope, have pointed students towards God’s beautiful plan for their lives. I am thankful to be a part of the most important mission in the world—that of bringing souls out of the darkness and into the light. I have grown to love my students deeply this year and want nothing less than for them to understand fully what is the height and the depth, the length and the width, of our Father’s love for them. Please join me in praying this week for those in my Bible classes who will hear of the opportunity to be “born-again” into real, soul-satisfying LIFE through Jesus Christ.

October Happenings and Visitors

Apparently, it’s been over a month since I last updated my blog.  I don’t know about in America, but time is flying in Nigeria. Every moment has been filled with grace (recently defined to me as “God working”), and most have been extremely enjoyable.  I’ll attempt a brief update.

       I continue to thrive in my teaching situation. Some (including myself) have expressed concern that I might kill myself with the amount of work that I have to do, but somehow God is keeping me afloat and quite content in the hustle and bustle of  my eight different class subjects. My students, while sometimes a challenge behaviorally and academically, stave away any semblance of a dull moment and bring joyous purpose to each day. 2^nd -7^th grade students are currently being introduced, along with the followers of John the Baptist, to “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.” It’s too cool to see kids begin to make connections between Old Testament law and miracles involving a lamb, and the Deliverer to whom they are now being introduced.  The 11^th and 12^th grade composition class has been a blast so far.  As we begin studying logic and argument in depth, my passion for the subject has been reignited by a passage in 2 Corinthians, “ We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ” (2 Cor 10:5).  I find it an awesome privilege to be involved in the sharing of tools, like argumentation, which will be used to destroy lies and darkness in order that light and life might prevail. I just completed my first debate unit with 8^th graders, which had similar purpose in developing students’ understanding of argument. We had some rough days preparing, but the public debate last week was a success. A great highlight of the debate was the “international adjudicator,” which leads to the major excitement of the month—a visit from my parents!

       Last Monday, October 22, my parents arrived in Lagos for a nine day visit to Nigeria. It was an awesome, jam-packed trip for them. Those who live near Morristown or happen to phone my mom will no doubt hear a full account of the many adventures that they had. I’ll not spoil any of her stories, but give a brief overview. I was extremely pleased to introduce Mom and Dad to my life in Ibadan—my fellow teachers, my students, my friends, my compound, my bible study, my city, and my weekly market experience. Mom even got to dress in Ancara (the traditional Nigerian clothing) and sing with me in a church choir concert. After a few days at ACA, where I think they received QUITE the education, my parents and I began a 14 hour journey up to the Nigerian/Cameroon border-town of Obudu with fellow teachers and friends. 

Mountains in Obudu, Nigeria

After a week (or 1.5 years for me) in a big dirty city, we were stupefied at the beauty that we found there. We stayed in a lovely little chalet in the “Obudu Cattle Ranch Resort” which was situated in the most stunning mountains I’ve ever beheld (save, MAYBE, the Alps).

After one day of hanging out and swimming, we spent the second day hiking over about twelve small mountains until we reached a quiet village in Cameroon. We couldn’t believe our eyes. 

The hiking crew with the village chief (who has at least 6 wives and 30- children).  

We found a primary school in session and observed about 150 precious children who were released for lunch break with shouts of joy. These kids, we found out, were in extreme poverty—some barely able to pay the $2.00 per year for school fees, while their peers were kicked out for not coming up with the sum. Hunger, the schoolmaster said, was a huge problem. Indeed, none of the kids ate a bite during “lunch break.” It was a sobering experience, to say the least. But, we did get to teach them a few songs, play a bit of “football” with them, and meet the chief of their small village. We are now considering organizing an outreach for ACA students to go and assist, in someway, these beloveds of God.

Cameroonian Kids at a small village school 

       My parents’ trip was full of sights and opportunities that even I had not experienced before. I am so blessed to have incredible support from such awesome loving parents. I’ve said “Goodbye” for now, but amazingly, I only have another five weeks before I will be the one boarding the plane for America.