Back Home

I remember that Sunday well. The only time I can remember that I got up and walked out of church. It was my second Sunday back in the States going to my home church. I had been looking forward to being back for the last two and a half years. I stood and watched everyone around me singing. I couldn’t. Tears filled my eyes as I watched them. I knew I was completely alone. They had no idea the things I had seen and experienced in the last few years. The overwhelming poverty and suffering that I was surrounded with on a daily basis. Things that I could never tell anyone about. I couldn’t do it. I walked out, got into my car and drove. Just drove, and cried. I was so desperately homesick. What I would have given to be home, to hang out with my friends, to not be alone, especially on that day, my birthday. When I finally drove up to my parents’ house, I stopped only long enough to change into running clothes. As I ran, I asked God why. Why did this have to be my life? Why would my life continue to be a cycle of hellos and good byes for as long as I could see? As I started in on the third mile, God gently spoke to my heart. He explained that my homesickness and tears where a good thing. They were a testimony to the work He had done in my heart over the last two and a half years. Somehow, He had changed my heart completely. He had given me a deep love for the country and people he had called me to, something I would have told you was impossible during my first year overseas as I struggled to adjust. He told me that what I was feeling was ok and actually a blessing, something I could prasie Him for. This conversation with God gave me perspecitve during the rest of my time in the States. No, it didn’t help with the homesick thing, but it gave me peace knowing that I was right where God wanted me, no matter how hard it might be. While it was fun to see family and friends, it took three months for me to get to the point where I didn’t cry when thinking of home.

Six months later, as I boarded the plane to finally go home, my heart was fearful that Madagascar, my friends, and my life wouldn’t be the same as how I had left it, that maybe what my heart had been longing for would be no more. I arrived late at night, and the next morning my phone rang. It was my best friends, they passed the phone from one to another and I am pretty sure that we did nothing on that phone call except laugh with joy that we could talk on the phone again and exclaim how amazing it was to hear each others’ voices. I was finally home.  

Every single day I absolutely enjoy everything about life Madagascar. Public transportation. The smell of rice cooking over charcoal fires and bricks being made in the fields. Eating rice. Speaking Malagasy. Every thing is such a joy. Last week during CYIA, my teaching team and I would make our escape each evening and walk to a nearby town and drink coffee and eat fried bread. Walking slowly (and I do mean slooooowly) down the road, talking about everything under the sun and yet nothing at all, and crowding onto a bench at a roadside store front to eat our snack, I couldn’t have been happier. We meandered back to our kids, singing and looking at the stars. My heart overflowed with thanksgiving for the amazing things God had done in my heart over the last three years. I knew Him in a whole new way and He had changed my heart in ways I could have never imagined. Not only that, but He had blessed me above and beyond any thing that I had ever hoped for with my amazing friends, teens, kids and ministry here in Madagascar. I even praised Him for my time in the States and all He had taught me through that storm. It was only in being away that I could truly appreciate on a whole new level what He was doing in me and what amazing gifts He had blessed me with. What a good, loving, and amazing God we serve!

Christian Youth in Action: Antananarivo

A little before 5am, I was awoken by the sounds of someone moving around. I opened my eyes and smiled to see that it was two of the older boys studying the Bible lessons they would be teaching at 5-Day Club that day by the light of a candle. These were just two of the amazing kids that God had brought to CYIA Antananarivo, they were focused and so eager to teach and to teach well.

One of the older boys in particular, Orluce, was constantly studying. He had to be pulled away from his work to stop and eat lunch. He woke up early to study and usually had his outlines in his hand whenever I saw him. It was great to see him grinning after he taught the Bible lesson, explaining to me that he had gotten everything into the lesson and many children had accepted Jesus as their Lord and Savior. Today, I stopped by the Teaching Children Effectively 1 training here in Tana that started today, only to see that two of the students were Orluce and his friend Febrice (Febrice was a second year student at CYIA). I can’t wait to see what God has in store for these two boys.

Sarah studied hard every morning and used every minute of study time to go over what she would be teaching that day. She faithfully taught one certain plant in the yard each morning, even shaking the plant’s “hand” and saying hello to start out. Her supervisor told me, while laughing, that on the first day of club, Sarah was so used to teaching her little plant that when she got up in front of the kids she turned away from the kids and toward one of the trees and began to teach.

Hery was on my team. He told me on the first day that he liked to make people smile and laugh. I was a little concerned that he had just come to CYIA to hang out and have fun, but quickly realized that wasn’t his purpose in coming. Yes, he was constantly making my team laugh and there was never a dull moment, but he studied hard, even getting up early to do so, and would carefully listen to anything I said and apply it. On the first day of club, we walked into the neighborhood that we would be teaching in and there were some adults sitting there. All the kids looked at me wondering what to do, and Hery announced, “don’t you remember what they taught us during training?? We are suppose to go say hello to the adults!!” It’s good to know someone was listening! J Watching him teach, I knew he had it. He had that natural ability to teach kids and have fun doing so. The kids hung on his every word.

Orellie went home each evening because she lived close by. After getting home later than her mother expected the first evening, her mother decided that she couldn’t come anymore. She showed up late the next morning, with out the smile that I had never seen her without. She cried as she explained what her mother had decided and how she had finally changed her mind and let her come. Her enthusiasm for teaching and her obvious love for the kids at 5-day club was amazing. Whenever I saw her after club, she was surrounded by a crowd of happy children.

I wish there was space here to tell you about each of these precious teens and the wonderful time we had at CYIA. There was no electricity, no running water, no one to cook the food, and only enough straw filled mattresses for the girls, the boys, instructors and some of the girls slept on the cement floor. But everyone pitched in, getting water from the well, cooking the food, washing dishes, and keeping everything in order. No one complained, ever. By the time Saturday rolled around, they were pleading to stay at least one more day. Not only did God bring an amazing group to camp, He provided for us in every other way to, especially when it came to the weather. It has been unseasonably cold and rainy (even for winter) here this year. But Tuesday morning, as we headed out to a little village outside of Tana, the sun came out and stayed out through Friday. Saturday, our last day of clubs, it began to get cloudy, it rained while we ate lunch but cleared off for our clubs. Sunday we were back to cold, gray, windy, rainy weather. Today it is absolutely freezing! All that happened last week is a reminder of what a great God we serve. When I think of CYIA Tana, I can’t help but smile and thank Him for the amazing things He did. Thank you so much for being such an important part of our team by praying for us!

Alien Tales

Let me attempt to explain what it means to use your horn while driving in Madagascar versus here in the States.

 Honking at someone in Madagascar usually means move over, I’m trying to get by. Let me in. Hello. Do you need a ride? But honking your horn at someone isn’t usually bad. It is simply a form of communication on the road and usually gets you want you want. Then you pass by, or get in, or whatever with a wave or a friendly shout out as you go by the person you just honked at. You see, a horn is used, not out of anger, but just to get where you need to go.

But here in the States, honking your horn at someone isn’t something you do. It’s rude and often done in frustration, impatience or anger. You don’t honk at someone just because you want them to move over for you or to let you in. I am pretty sure doing so would only make the situation worse.

How many times have I almost used my horn while driving here in the States these last two months? More than I would like to admit. It often looks something like this. I am driving along in the left lane and come upon someone driving slowly. This is the passing lane. You don’t drive in it unless you are passing or driving fast enough. So I want to honk. I am not angry or even frustrated. I simply want to let them know I want to get by. And in Madagascar, they would move over for me and then we would smile and wave as I passed by. I constantly have to remind myself that honking my horn here will not have the same effect and will be taken completely differently.

Each time I am out on the road, I am reminded that I am an alien here. I don’t fit in. I don’t think the same. My reactions to things aren’t the same as everyone else. And yet, aren’t all of us Christ followers in the same boat? Living in this world that we are called to be “in but not of”, we are aliens. We are followers of Jesus. And that radical life we are called to live that involves such things as loving enemies and forgiving all offences makes us aliens. But one day, we will go Home. And then the tales of our alien lives will come to a close as we spend eternity worshiping our Lord. I can’t wait! And in the mean time, I can’t help but laugh at my alien ways, especially when it comes to things like using my horn. So if you happen to see a black car come up behind you in the left lane and honk rudely to get by, it’s probably me. And that will be your cue to let me by and of course return my wave. At which point you would be allowed to laugh and shake your head at my alien ways.

Winter Newsletter: Toilet Paper and Ponchos

Toilet Paper and Ponchos

    Knowing that I would be back in the States in mid-December through the beginning of July for furlough, I used the last few months to try to prepare myself for the culture shock that was sure to come. And while the change has been going fairly well these last two weeks, there have been a few bumps in the road. Seeing toilet paper in a public restroom still totally throws me off. That is definitely a luxury we don’t have in Madagascar. Or there was the time I went shopping with my sisters and we walked by a display of Christmas tree skirts that, in my defense, looked an awful lot like ponchos and I said, “Aw, can’t you see Kelsie wearing that?” And Christa looked at me funny and replied, “Tara, we are in America; those are Christmas tree skirts, not ponchos” then burst into laughter. And while I already can’t wait to go back home, I am totally enjoying the time with my family and can’t wait to see all of you! Be sure to give me a call or send an email so we can find a time to see each other and catch up! I am also available to speak at small groups and churches.

 

 

One of my favorite parts about being back in the States so far has been hanging out with all of my siblings and meeting my new sister and brother. Six is just so much more fun than four!

 

 

 

Followers of Jesus

    Princia and her friends skipped along beside me as we left Good News Club. They chattered excitedly as we walked. “So, we get to do that EVERY Wednesday? It is so much fun learning about God! Why is it just an hour? That is too short, we should make it two hours.” As I listened to their chatter, I couldn’t help but smile. They were new to the school and it had been their first-ever Good News Club. When I gave the invitation, their hands had shot up and stayed up, waving excitedly, even after I told the kids to put their hands down and look up. Then, after explaining that if they had raised their hand to show they wanted to believe in Jesus, that they could stay after club, they reminded me about it the rest of the club. “Zoky Tara, we stay after club, right? Where did you say we should meet you after club? Don’t forget, I want to believe in Jesus afterwards.” And when the end of club rolled around that day, they accepted Jesus as their Savior. And every Wednesday for one hour, in that public school in Madagascar, these precious girls and their classmates learn how to become whole-hearted followers of Jesus. It doesn’t get any better than that!

  Students lining up outside their classrooms at the beginning of the day. At this school, we have    
        Good News Clubs in every grade, preschool through eighth grade over a two-day period.

  It used to be that I could either teach my class or manage it, but not both. Then a few months ago, I realized that I was doing both. It is amazing to have language skills that allow you to teach the class and simultaneously be moving around the room, giving certain little guys the “teacher eye,” putting your hand on them or making eye contact and shaking your head no. Who knew that requires multi-tasking skills??

 

 

 

 

Even though we didn’t get a white Christmas, it was great going to the Christmas Eve service at my church and spending time with family.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My parents, all the siblings and I went on a tour of the Christmas lights at the Coeur D’ Alene Resort. It was very, very cold, especially coming off a tropical island, but lots of fun!

 

 

 

I Would Like to Introduce You to...

     The big question that has been running through my mind lately is, How do I structure the Christian Youth in Action program in Madagascar so that it lives on long after I am gone? As I have prayed about this issue, the answer seems to be creating not only a leadership team among the CYIA students—students who have the potential to eventually help with training—but also getting together a teaching team who will travel with me and train the students. The idea is that they will eventually take over the leadership of Christian Youth in Action. After praying and searching for a teaching team who is passionate about working with teens and has a heart to reach the children of Madagascar, God pointed out Nirina, Rinoh, Landry and Hasina. And while they are all young, their passion for the ministry and heart for God makes them the perfect team. I met three of the four in 2006 when I went to Madagascar on a summer mission trip. It is crazy to think that even as we were teaching 5-Day Clubs together seven years ago, God was placing us together for a reason. Each of them has grown up in Pastor Diavolana’s Good News Club, has taught 5-Day Clubs for years and loves God with all his/her heart.

I can’t wait to see how God uses the CYIA teaching team to train teens and reach children throughout Madagascar! Please be praying that their passion for the ministry of CYIA will continue to grow and that they will be whole-hearted followers of Jesus!

Prayer Requests:

Pray for me as I work on raising support during furlough.

 

Pray for the Christian Youth In Action^® teaching team, that they will follow God whole- heartedly and be diligent in preparing for CYIA™.

 

Pray for the children who have accepted Jesus at Good News Clubs this year—that they will become whole-hearted followers of Jesus.

Praise Reports:

Praise God for each of the Good News Club^® children who have accepted Jesus as their Savior so far this school year.

Praise God for the CYIA teaching team and how He is and will use them to reach children in Madagascar. 

 

 

 

Newsletter: September 2013

A Future Generation

    What will God do with the lives of the teens who come to Christian Youth in Action? That is a question I have been asking myself since God called me to the ministry of CYIA here in Madagascar. I had always felt that the teens who would come to camp would be the future of Madagascar—the pastors, leaders and missionaries of the next generation. How exciting it has been to see God bring that dream into reality. Let me introduce you to just a few of the many teens who came to CYIA in Ranomafana and in Antananarivo.

Setra: The other teens occasionally called Setra, “Pastor.” He is 15 and was the only older boy who came to CYIA in Ranomafana, and to be honest, I was shocked to hear that he was coming since all the other boys were 11 or 12. We asked them why they called him that, and they said, “When the teacher at school asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up, Setra said he wanted to be a pastor.” And all week, as I watched him learn and grow, I could see that God had already called him, and he knew it.















Aina: Aina sat beside me after club one evening and said, ‘Tara, I want to be a missionary. When I teach the kids at club, I know that’s what I want to do with my life.”

 

 

Avotra: Avotra is 17. He couldn’t come to the first three days of training because he was taking what is the equivalent of a GED. But on his lunch breaks, he would come running down to spend lunch time with us then hurry back to the testing location. He caught himself up on everything he missed and was ready to teach with his team when we got to Tamatave. He was sitting by me one day as I watched my team do a demo of their club. When one of the boys was having a hard time reading something out of the missionary story, Avotra told him what it was supposed to say, word for word, from memory. I looked at him in shock since that wasn’t even the part he was teaching that day. He was the Bible lesson teacher that day on his team and that is usually plenty enough to keep someone busy during practice time. He said, “Hey, every part of club is connected and goes together. You have to know all the parts to teach well.” And you should see this kid teach. I had seen his passion since pre-training and knew God already had special plans for him. Avotra only confirmed those suspicions. He knew God had already called him to be a missionary.

   God is working through CYIA and I can’t wait to see what He has planned for these kids’ lives. Thank you for playing a key role in CYIA here in Madagascar through your prayers and support!

CYIA, Malagasy Style

We crowded around the open fire that our giant pot of rice was suspended over, sitting on stones and blowing on the fire in an attempt to get the rice to cook faster. The pitch black sky over us was filled with more stars than I had ever seen. Everything was quiet, except us. The first four days of training were over and we had just arrived in a little town way out in the middle of nowhere to teach 5-Day Clubs. The 12 kids who crowded around the fire with me continually blew my mind. They ranged in age from 11 to 15, most being about 12. They worked so hard and put everything they had into their clubs. If they practiced their lessons in front of rocks and trees, they did so loudly and passionately. And when they were at club, it was no different. They would point out areas they thought would be perfect for open-air ministry and invited everyone in sight to the afternoon clubs. The Child Evangelism Fellowship^® worker in Ranomafana, Henriette, was one of the sweetest, most humble people I had ever met. She did nothing halfway. She went above and beyond with everything and poured her heart into these teens whom she saw as the future of CEF^® in Ranomafana. Seeing all this, I felt so very, very small. I wondered how it was that God had orchestrated this whole thing and had His hand in every part of it. I watched in awe as I saw a passion grow in the hearts of the teens to spread the Gospel. I watched as the club my teens taught, way out in a little village in the rainforest, filled with adults. The adults played the games and participated along with the children and while many children accepted Jesus that week, most of those who accepted Jesus were adults. I talked with the excited host about continuing the club each week during the school year and knew God had plans for that little village. Only God could have brought it all together. And that one sentence sums up everything that has happened at each of the three CYIAs this year. After each one, you can only shake your head in wonder and say, “Only God could have done that!”

 

The first four days of CYIA, the teens learned everything they would need to go out and teach 5-Day Clubs the next week. Here, Henriette is teaching a session during the CYIA in Ranomafana.

 

Each morning they watched demonstrations of what their part of club should look like before going to practice by themselves.

 

Practice time involved finding a quiet place and practicing out loud.

In the afternoons, they went out and taught clubs, putting into practice all they had learned. 

 

A total of eight clubs where taught during both the CYIA in Antananarivo and Ranomafana.

They led children to the Lord who responded to the invitation that was given during the Bible lesson.

This was my amazing team during CYIA in Antananarivo. The teens where split into two teaching groups at the CYIA in Ranomafana where 13 teens attended and five groups at the CYIA in Antananarivo where 31 teens attended.

 

Prayer Requests:

Pray for the students who attended Christian Youth in Action^®—that they will continue to grow in their walk with the Lord.

Pray for me as I plan for CYIA^™ next year and most importantly, put together a teaching team who can travel with me and eventually be in charge of CYIA.

Praise Reports:

Praise God for each of the 31 teens who attended CYIA in Antananarivo and the 13 teens who attended CYIA in Ranomafana, for the work He did in their lives and the many children who accepted Him through 5-Day Clubs.

Praise God for the teens He has called to serve Him!

 

 

 

 

Two Worlds Collide

A little over two weeks ago, I sat in the airport, waiting for my sister’s plane to arrive. Waiting for my two worlds to collide. My heart pounded. I was more nervous than excited. Questions kept popping into my mind. How would this work out? Would she be the same girl who said goodbye to me at an airport on the other side of the world over two years ago? I knew I wasn’t who I was then. Would we still be friends? Would it be awkward? And worst of all, what would she think of my world? Would she love my friends and my CYIA teens as much as I do? After falling in love with Kenya, would she have room in her heart for Madagascar? For my world?

Then, there she was. Standing in the doorway as her passport was checked. But, was it her? She looked so different. I walked toward her, heart still pounding like crazy. What was I suppose to do? For two and a half years, I have greeted people with handshakes no matter how excited I am to see them. Running toward someone and wrapping my arms around them was something the old Tara would do. After a moments hesitation, I walked toward her and gave her a hug. It’s what she would expect. What is expected in the world I used to be a part of. I watched her as we got in the car and wondered, was this really my little sister? The one I have always loved to death and so enjoy talking to? What was I suppose to talk to her about now that we were together for more than two whole week after being apart for more than two whole years? 

 

A little over two weeks later, I walked into the airport with her and a bunch of my friends, my Malagasy family. I couldn’t believe it was already time for her to go. She had loved my friends and my CYIA teens like I do. She laughed with them, talked with them, walked arm and arm with them, and despite language barriers, she was a fast favorite among them all. And when we were alone, it was even better then it used to be. No, she wasn’t the same girl I left behind over two years ago. Neither was I. But we started right where we left off. The laughing, teasing, and fun was never ending. But even more importantly, we could talk about anything. I gained new perspective on ministry and areas I need to be doing a better job in. I heard what she thought about things I am struggling with. She knows me better than pretty much anyone, completely understands my weaknesses, where I have been, and the things I struggle with. As I watched her walk alone, toward the ticket counter, Rinoh standing by me and talking to me, doing what he always does, making sure everyone is ok, I couldn’t believe what a blessing the last two weeks had been, not only in the sense of how much fun we had had and the adventures, but how much I learned about myself and the direction I need to go with CYIA and how to better deal with certain challenges. While my goal was to make her stay here a blessing to her, I knew she had turned the tables. While I was sad to see her disappear past the security gate, I was more happy than anything. Yeah, I’d miss her sooo much, but….. the last few weeks had been so perfect, how could I be sad? And I was sending her to see her family in Kenya for one more day, and then back to the States where her world is, at least for now anyway.

We turned and walked out of the airport, back to my purely Malagasy world. No more English. The girls and I walked arm in arm as usual, everyone laughing and teasing each other as we went to find rice for lunch. We sat in a very Malagasy roadside ‘restaurant’ and ate rice. We talked. Reminisced. They started talking to my about my furlough, and as much as I didn’t want to talk about it, I knew I needed to, for them. They talked to me about how they were going to ask me if we could hang out at my house for independence day next year, since they wouldn't have anywhere else to go, and then realized I wouldn’t be there. They talked about how they wouldn’t be able to stop by my house. Wondered if I would still speak Malagasy when I got back, and how they thought we would all need to wear sunglasses when we went to the airport so no one would see us cry. And then we climbed into the bus to head home. As we road away from the airport, my eyes filled with tears. Not because my sister had left, but because I knew the next time we all traipsed to the airport would be the day I have been dreading. I knew I would be the next one to leave. Furlough loomed just ahead, way closer than I wanted it to be. As Rinoh, Lanto and I discussed the spacing of the hills between the road we were on and the mountain we went to the other day, why we couldn’t see the mountain from where we where and what the distance and height of the hills, the road, and the mountain had to do with it, I wanted to cry. How I wanted to never leave them, to always be there for them, to never hurt them. But I knew, from the perspective Christa had given me about furlough and our faithful loving God, that He and He alone can be their everything and do what I can’t do for them. And I knew I would treasure every minute with them all the more and pray for them even harder and do my best to make the transition easy for everyone.

As we planned for a photo viewing party at my house to look at all the pictures from CYIA and hanging out with Christa, I once again couldn’t believe how perfectly she had collided with my world, how much they all loved her and had so readily accepted her as one of us. What a perfectly wonderful time it was, a beautiful collision.