Bows and Arrows

Returning from church one Sunday morning, I heard a lot of yelling. “A rugby match?” I thought. Rugby matches can be pretty fierce here, but this sounded more like ‘fight’ than ‘play,’ and besides, it was not from the direction of the rugby pitch that the shouting was coming from.

As I walked towards a spot where I’d have a view across the ravine, I heard a ‘boom.’ Definitely a rifle. Thankfully there was only one boom; the shooter must not have had much ammunition.

Getting closer, I could hear ‘kilim em,’ which you can probably guess can mean ‘kill him.’ It can also mean ‘hit him,’ and hopefully the latter was the case, but it all sounded pretty intense so I couldn’t be sure. By this time I’d seen a number of men running up a ridge into a small wood on the opposite side of the ravine. They were obviously running towards the fight.

I got home and pulled out the camera. To document a fight or not to document a fight, that is the question. I’d witnessed one before, and they’re not really the types of events you glory in. Anger and a desire for revenge drive these encounters, and unfortunately a fight is rarely the end of the matter. On survey we often hear, “Now that Christianity has come, we don’t fight any more.” I’m sure there is much less fighting than there was before, but the human desire to pay back evil for evil remains strong.

As you see these pictures, be grateful for systems of law and order that prevent this from happening in your neighborhood, but also remember the many countries where conflict between ethnic groups is regular and deadly. And don’t forget to pray that people everywhere would hear and learn this: that sin has been atoned for, that peace can reside in the hearts of those who have been wronged, and that—by God’s grace—we need not seek revenge.

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The Limbo

"Limbo lower now! How low can you go?" The song still echoes through my head though it's been years since I heard it. One Monday a month, my crowd of home school friends had control of the Macomb skating rink for the afternoon (while all the normal kids were busy in school). And one of the standard games was the limbo, where we attempted to get as low to the floor as possible without falling off our skates. I did ok, but didn't seem to have the flexibility to flatten myself like some others did. So after the first few rounds of sliding under the stick, I'd usually end up on the sidelines watching with envy my more limbo-adept friends. Limbo apparently was not my forte.

Now, the word "limbo" carries a much heavier meaning for me. It's not just that game that I can't seem to win no matter how hard I try. It is now a state of being that I have to wrestle with much more often than I would like. And lately, after the first few weeks or months of maneuvering under the "limbo stick", I once again end up on the sidelines, watching with envy as my more flexible husband seems to effortlessly glide through this limbo game. Now, to be fair, John has had much more practice at this limbo game than I ever will in my lifetime. As if being a missionary kid isn't tough enough, going back and forth constantly between two countries, John lived in at least 4 different countries during his MK experience. Even during his college years he hopped between Canada, Montana, North Carolina, and Australia in a series of experiences that I still couldn't accurately plot on a timeline. When I first met him in Canada, he had come to the Canada Institute of Linguistics to test out this Bible translation thing after a possible job opportunity left him in limbo for some time.

Me? When I met John, I was on track as planned since childhood for missionary adventures. I'd joined our missions organization soon after graduating from college and had my sights set on survey. I even received an invitation to do survey in an Asian branch during my time in Canada. But I asked if I could postpone my decision till the end of the summer just in case something interesting developed between me and John. And to my shock and amazement, something did develop! Outwardly I was thrilled! Inwardly, I was a mass of confusion. Should I be one of those girls that runs off to the mission field and makes the guy chase her to the other side of the world? Or should I stick around home, leaving my missions plans in limbo, so that John and I would have a better chance at a relationship? And what if I stayed home and it didn't work out? I hated trying to sort through my mess of thoughts to come to a rational conclusion. But as John and I headed away from Canada on our first of many epic trips, I decided to give this relationship thing a shot and put missions on hold somewhat.

As John and I waited in a seemingly endless line to cross the border into the United States, I was reflecting on this "borderland" experience in my own life. "You know," I said to John thoughtfully, "I think this is the first time in my life that I haven't had my next steps planned out." John looked at me and, without any attempt to hide his sarcasm, said "Congratulations." Being the nice person I was, I sort of shut up and thought about how that must have sounded to an MK with his experiences. Looking back, I think I should have just slugged him! Yes, I do need to learn a lot about quieting my busy, purpose driven soul and trusting God to get me through the times that my plans just don't work. But I think it will be a lifelong lesson, much to my husband's frustration.

I don't like limbo. Growing up in a solid family and with consistent friends, I've come to expect stability. And I think it is much more of a real need in my life than I might care to admit. "No, no!" my proud self yells, "I can do this! I can do anything! I will be a good missionary! I don't need stability!" But it's there, it's ingrained - that nagging desire to know where I'll be and what I'll be doing for the rest of my life. To know that the people I love and the people I've known forever will always be around and always be my friends.

All that said, it may be apparent that John and I don't have our next steps planned out. Well, we do have plane tickets to the US and a tentative road trip from West to East coast planned. But beyond that, we’re not sure of much. And it hasn't been like this just the last few weeks. When we first came to PNG 2 1/2 years ago, we expected to stay for at least 3 years. Before the end of our term we figured we would decide whether to stay in PNG. And in the last 10 months, we've been seriously considering and looking at other assignments. 10 months! One particular option looked interesting to us, and as we talked with the people in charge, the shape of that option morphed several times. And then suddenly, yesterday, that option was very definitively taken out of the running. So basically we're back to square one again - attempting to figure out what we want to do with our lives (or at least what we want to do for the next few years.)

I'm not looking forward to more "limbo". But at least this time, I have something to look back on. I can tell myself, "you know what, self? Don't worry. God has brought you through times of great uncertainty before, and he will do it again." It makes me think of a bit in Lamentations - read it, this is good stuff!

Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him.”
The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;
it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the Lord.

Wait? And wait quietly?! Yikes, it looks like I have some work to do. So I'll pray for grace to be faithful, do the next thing, and try not to complain too much as those limbo muscles get stretched once again.

P.S. The picture is Tikvah with some Christmas presents we received in mid-January, caught over Christmas in the limbo which is the PNG postal system :)