26.6.10
Le Karite
“Si le chevre mange du Karite c’est grace au vente” (If the goat eats shea it is thanks to the wind”
This is the Mossi saying one of Pastor’s introduced us to today. He offered thanks, for the work Sheltering Wings is doing recognizing that is because of God and his people (both in Burkina, and those who are involved from across the world through prayer and financial support) that things like the sponsorship distribution (and program in general) are possible.
I think, that’s a pretty beautiful way to say thank you.
There were tons of fun moments at today’s distribution. For a few minutes it started raining, and we feared a torrential downpour, but as quickly as the rain came it disappeared. And for that, we were grateful for the way in which the Lord provided and allowed the distribution to continue.
The picture above (pink dress) is a girl in our sponsorship program. A real cutie.
The second is a bunch of kids that aren’t in our sponsorship program but were hanging around outside the church. I had a couple minutes because no one was doing crafts, and they were right near me. I picked up my camera and went to take a picture of them, and they all disappeared. Then, they all reappeared, giggling hysterically. I’d started a game. I snapped a picture of them anyway and when I showed it to them they fell to the ground laughing. They wanted more. We spent a few minutes, playing: they pretended they didn’t want their pictures taken (when really they fought each other for a better spot in front of the lens) and I showed them each shot and waited for their hysterical laughter to die down.
I am a big fan of such moments.
P.S. if you’ll let me piggyback on the pastor’s words... If serving here in Burkina is my shea then you guys (and our Lord) are my wind. Thanks so much for having my back team!
P.S.S. I ate shea the other day (the fruit that surrounds the nut that is used to extract the oil that is used to make shea butter) and it’s absolutely delicious!
This is the Mossi saying one of Pastor’s introduced us to today. He offered thanks, for the work Sheltering Wings is doing recognizing that is because of God and his people (both in Burkina, and those who are involved from across the world through prayer and financial support) that things like the sponsorship distribution (and program in general) are possible.
I think, that’s a pretty beautiful way to say thank you.
There were tons of fun moments at today’s distribution. For a few minutes it started raining, and we feared a torrential downpour, but as quickly as the rain came it disappeared. And for that, we were grateful for the way in which the Lord provided and allowed the distribution to continue.
The picture above (pink dress) is a girl in our sponsorship program. A real cutie.
The second is a bunch of kids that aren’t in our sponsorship program but were hanging around outside the church. I had a couple minutes because no one was doing crafts, and they were right near me. I picked up my camera and went to take a picture of them, and they all disappeared. Then, they all reappeared, giggling hysterically. I’d started a game. I snapped a picture of them anyway and when I showed it to them they fell to the ground laughing. They wanted more. We spent a few minutes, playing: they pretended they didn’t want their pictures taken (when really they fought each other for a better spot in front of the lens) and I showed them each shot and waited for their hysterical laughter to die down.
I am a big fan of such moments.
P.S. if you’ll let me piggyback on the pastor’s words... If serving here in Burkina is my shea then you guys (and our Lord) are my wind. Thanks so much for having my back team!
P.S.S. I ate shea the other day (the fruit that surrounds the nut that is used to extract the oil that is used to make shea butter) and it’s absolutely delicious!
25.6.10
Sponsorship Distributions
Yesterday was the first day of our two-day sponsorship distributions with Sheltering Wings (SW). The distributions provide time for SW to connect with all sponsorship children, for families to connect with each other, and for the SW team to work with children on correspondence to their sponsors.
Before & After the distribution.
As we distributed bars of soap and sacks of grain to each sponsored child I noticed some sacks were frayed around the edges. When the bags were moved small amounts of grain would slip past these frayed edges and onto the dusty ground.
The image of corn amidst the rocks brought back a memory I have fought with since the distributions in 2009. It’s the kind of memory that brings with it intense sadness, but that also creates renewed understanding.
While visiting the house of a young boy in the sponsorship program we divided a 100kg sack of corn into the family’s storage bowls. While doing so a handful of grain landed outside the bowl; I thought nothing of it.
The boy helped his mother carry the grain into their courtyard, and then returned to the street. I smiled while he shook his hands and when his mother thanked us profusely replied “It’s nothing.”
And as I climbed into the back of the pickup to return home the little boy dropped softly to his knees: one by one he picked up the kernels of scattered corn with his right hand, and drop them wordlessly into his left hand. I’d been so wrong: it wasn’t nothing.
This is what I was thinking today when I watched a mother, or maybe grandmother, begin to scoop up spilled grain off the cement floor of the church. She too worked silently, but had a fierce look in her eyes; perhaps a combination of shame and her desire to protect.
a sponsored child and family leaving with grain
OOne might suggest I am simply a result of a culture that places little emphasis on the things we are entrusted with. This suggestion could explain why I am so struck by the way in which the people here have gathered up every last piece of spilled grain. However, I would boldly suggest, I have also been struck by the realization that there is a poverty mentality at work that I am not privy to understand. Perhaps, there is an understanding of the world that I simply cannot hold because I will never know what it is to be without. Maybe this poverty mentality is derived from the basic desire to survive.
My lack of this understanding of poverty is why seeing a small boy, and an aging woman, meticulously picking up grain piece by piece from the dirt, strikes such a chord in my heart. And perhaps another way in which I can know that this work is not done in vain.
these children live in a village recently added to the SW sponsorship program
Check out sheltering-wings.org for more information about the sponsorship program and to see bios for children in need of sponsorship.
24.6.10
Bobo
Yesterday morning I arrived home from a week-long trip to Bobo-Dialossou and Banfora. Miriah, her brother Jordan and our friend Lazar (Jordan’s good friend and our fellow Yako-ite) all traveled down to beautiful southern Burkina to visit with friends and see some of Burkina’s touristy sights.
A couple highlights...
I loved visiting the old quartier (constructed in the 11th century) and seeing the ‘old bobo’. It felt more ‘village-esque’ to me, as opposed to the busy Bobo just outside, and I appreciated the change of pace, as well as the chance to learn about some of Burkina’s history . We saw the old mosque (the Imam panicked that we would hit our heads on everything so spent the entire tour saying ‘watch your head!’ every three seconds), and all four sections of the old quartier (muslim, animist, blacksmith and griot).
A cute story too (I suppose?): a little girl grabbed my hand in one of the first courtyards we visited in the old quartier. I held her hand as we walked around the courtyard together and said goodbye to her as we left her courtyard but, she followed me for our entire tour. She would quietly take my hand, sometimes disappear for a moment when I needed to go into a building where it appeared she wasn’t invited, but always reappear to take my hand again and walk with me. We didn’t have a common language (she spoke almost no French, and Dioula is the heart language of Bobo) but it didn’t matter. It was just a simple moment that put a smile on my face.
We spent an afternoon swimming in a river just near Bobo. As I sat on the rocks I watched an older man spear fishing and another climb palm trees to gather fruit, a few children splashing in the water by the bridge and their mothers washing clothes by laboriously pounding them against the rocks. When we climbed in the river we let the river pull us downstream, and I watched as the jungle transformed around me. It was tranquil and it was stunning. Months ago a friend emailed me and told me that every time I see ‘a majestic tree or beautiful flower’ in Burkina I should let myself be reminded of God’s awesome love for me and for his people here. I couldn’t help but be overcome by an overwhelming sense of this as I took in God’s creation on the quiet banks of the river Gingette.
There are so many other highlights I wish I could write about them all. Perhaps, with pictures, I will be able to better describe to you what my small trip was like. It was a wonderful experience and I was very excited to see Bobo and Banfora (places I had wanted to visit last year but didn’t make time to see). However, as trips always go, I was thrilled to step off the bus into Yako. I came back to Yako just in time for the sponsorship distributions (today and Saturday) that I’ve been looking forward to for so long.
Can’t wait to update you on the happenings of the distributions!
A couple highlights...
I loved visiting the old quartier (constructed in the 11th century) and seeing the ‘old bobo’. It felt more ‘village-esque’ to me, as opposed to the busy Bobo just outside, and I appreciated the change of pace, as well as the chance to learn about some of Burkina’s history . We saw the old mosque (the Imam panicked that we would hit our heads on everything so spent the entire tour saying ‘watch your head!’ every three seconds), and all four sections of the old quartier (muslim, animist, blacksmith and griot).
A cute story too (I suppose?): a little girl grabbed my hand in one of the first courtyards we visited in the old quartier. I held her hand as we walked around the courtyard together and said goodbye to her as we left her courtyard but, she followed me for our entire tour. She would quietly take my hand, sometimes disappear for a moment when I needed to go into a building where it appeared she wasn’t invited, but always reappear to take my hand again and walk with me. We didn’t have a common language (she spoke almost no French, and Dioula is the heart language of Bobo) but it didn’t matter. It was just a simple moment that put a smile on my face.
We spent an afternoon swimming in a river just near Bobo. As I sat on the rocks I watched an older man spear fishing and another climb palm trees to gather fruit, a few children splashing in the water by the bridge and their mothers washing clothes by laboriously pounding them against the rocks. When we climbed in the river we let the river pull us downstream, and I watched as the jungle transformed around me. It was tranquil and it was stunning. Months ago a friend emailed me and told me that every time I see ‘a majestic tree or beautiful flower’ in Burkina I should let myself be reminded of God’s awesome love for me and for his people here. I couldn’t help but be overcome by an overwhelming sense of this as I took in God’s creation on the quiet banks of the river Gingette.
There are so many other highlights I wish I could write about them all. Perhaps, with pictures, I will be able to better describe to you what my small trip was like. It was a wonderful experience and I was very excited to see Bobo and Banfora (places I had wanted to visit last year but didn’t make time to see). However, as trips always go, I was thrilled to step off the bus into Yako. I came back to Yako just in time for the sponsorship distributions (today and Saturday) that I’ve been looking forward to for so long.
Can’t wait to update you on the happenings of the distributions!
12.6.10
Go
Thursday we set out to Peligtanga once again, with a plan to tour the gold mines. It didn’t go ‘as planned’ but ended up being a most amazing morning...
I took a tour of the mines last year and so, at first, I wasn’t sure whether or not I would go along with Sarah’s family or stay at the orphanage for the morning. However, I recognized the immediate tug Peligtanga has on my heart (alongside a personal desire to go as I thought it would be a cool experience to be guided around the mines by one of the children from the orphanage) and opted to go along with the team.
As the team began forming to go to the mines, we recognized we didn’t feel totally ease with just a tourist walk around the mines. Instead, we hoped to be able to offer to pray for the women that worked in the mines as we walked.
Once in Peligtanga we went first to the pastor’s house, and then walked together to the mines. We walked through where some places where they work to extract the gold from mud- a process that involves sifting, lots of water and noisy machines.
Then we were stopped, by the head of the mines, as we hadn’t gone through his post before commencing our tour. He told us we couldn’t continue the tour.
As Abraham, George and the Pastor spoke with him to try to remedy the situation I saw a welcome and friendly figure pull up on his moto: our friend the Chief of Peligtanga! (he has been involved in the prayer meetings and come to some of the evangelism days). He smiled, greeted us all, and joined in on the conversation.
After a few minutes we were back on our ‘tour’ and seeing how they weigh the gold powder (if there is ever a next time for touring the mines I will surely pass by the post and avoid needing the chief to intervene...we were simply unaware).
We were then told we wouldn’t be allowed to go to the mines themselves (for various reasons). And, after consulting with the Pastor and the Chief, we determined a prayer walk wouldn’t be appropriate considering the number of women practicing Islam and Animism- and knowledge that they would feel uncomfortable.
Rather than doing this, we found a spot within the area we already were, and started a small program- allowing women to come to us. George gave a short message, and Sarah prayed. A woman asked us to pray over her sick child. At this point the majority of the team, following an invitation from some of the women, went over under a hangar and continued praying. Women and children (and one man) came to the team to ask for prayer.
Because there were so many children around this is when Edouard and I stayed back from the rest of the team to conduct a small children’s program. We sang with the children, played games and told stories. Edouard shared the story of the Good Shepard, and I asked him to the story of Joseph’s life (coat of many colours). As he spoke about Joseph’s life, I asked him to tell the children it’s a demonstration of God’s plan for our lives- that Joseph couldn’t have known when he was in the well what God would do with his life and how he would use him in Egypt, and that God has amazing plans for us. All of this was a continuation of previous messages we’ve done with the children in Peligtanga.
These are children that have been on my heart and in a village that has been on my heart. It is amazing to me, how God orchestrated this morning with them. Were we to have been permitted to tour the mines this morning of prayer (for the rest of the team) and children’s programming (for Edouard and I) would not have happened.
It was as if God was saying to us: You can go, but you will do what I have asked of you. And He has asked us to do just what we did yesterday. For Sarah prayer over the women has been on her hearts, for me it has been the children.
[Proverbs 16:9 'The heart of man plans his course but the Lord determines his steps']
As we left the children followed us out to the road. As I looked behind me I could see clouds over the horizon, and tons of laughing, jumping, children running between down the road, between the rows of hangars. It was a perfect, simple, ending to an amazing morning.
I took a tour of the mines last year and so, at first, I wasn’t sure whether or not I would go along with Sarah’s family or stay at the orphanage for the morning. However, I recognized the immediate tug Peligtanga has on my heart (alongside a personal desire to go as I thought it would be a cool experience to be guided around the mines by one of the children from the orphanage) and opted to go along with the team.
As the team began forming to go to the mines, we recognized we didn’t feel totally ease with just a tourist walk around the mines. Instead, we hoped to be able to offer to pray for the women that worked in the mines as we walked.
Once in Peligtanga we went first to the pastor’s house, and then walked together to the mines. We walked through where some places where they work to extract the gold from mud- a process that involves sifting, lots of water and noisy machines.
Then we were stopped, by the head of the mines, as we hadn’t gone through his post before commencing our tour. He told us we couldn’t continue the tour.
As Abraham, George and the Pastor spoke with him to try to remedy the situation I saw a welcome and friendly figure pull up on his moto: our friend the Chief of Peligtanga! (he has been involved in the prayer meetings and come to some of the evangelism days). He smiled, greeted us all, and joined in on the conversation.
After a few minutes we were back on our ‘tour’ and seeing how they weigh the gold powder (if there is ever a next time for touring the mines I will surely pass by the post and avoid needing the chief to intervene...we were simply unaware).
We were then told we wouldn’t be allowed to go to the mines themselves (for various reasons). And, after consulting with the Pastor and the Chief, we determined a prayer walk wouldn’t be appropriate considering the number of women practicing Islam and Animism- and knowledge that they would feel uncomfortable.
Rather than doing this, we found a spot within the area we already were, and started a small program- allowing women to come to us. George gave a short message, and Sarah prayed. A woman asked us to pray over her sick child. At this point the majority of the team, following an invitation from some of the women, went over under a hangar and continued praying. Women and children (and one man) came to the team to ask for prayer.
Because there were so many children around this is when Edouard and I stayed back from the rest of the team to conduct a small children’s program. We sang with the children, played games and told stories. Edouard shared the story of the Good Shepard, and I asked him to the story of Joseph’s life (coat of many colours). As he spoke about Joseph’s life, I asked him to tell the children it’s a demonstration of God’s plan for our lives- that Joseph couldn’t have known when he was in the well what God would do with his life and how he would use him in Egypt, and that God has amazing plans for us. All of this was a continuation of previous messages we’ve done with the children in Peligtanga.
These are children that have been on my heart and in a village that has been on my heart. It is amazing to me, how God orchestrated this morning with them. Were we to have been permitted to tour the mines this morning of prayer (for the rest of the team) and children’s programming (for Edouard and I) would not have happened.
It was as if God was saying to us: You can go, but you will do what I have asked of you. And He has asked us to do just what we did yesterday. For Sarah prayer over the women has been on her hearts, for me it has been the children.
[Proverbs 16:9 'The heart of man plans his course but the Lord determines his steps']
As we left the children followed us out to the road. As I looked behind me I could see clouds over the horizon, and tons of laughing, jumping, children running between down the road, between the rows of hangars. It was a perfect, simple, ending to an amazing morning.
9.6.10
7.6.10
from africa to america....
The other day, as we biked home from a long morning spent winding our ways through the intricate alley-ways of Yako's Grande-Marché, Josue and I found ourselves 'chased' by a group of local children."Nasara! Nasara bonbons!" they shouted.
As they began to lag behind and we were left with only the faint whispers of 'Nasara bonbons' behind us Josue turned me: "Que des blancs sont devenus des dieus" (The whites have become like gods.) he said.
"Josue," I said "We are not! We have faults and we make mistakes. We're human just like everyone else. You and I have the same blood running through our veins."
"I know," he said 'But in Colonial times..." His voice drifted off.
"Well, I hope now people recognize how much we are all the same, regardless of our skin colour." I said to him. He nodded in agreement and we pedaled in a brief moment of silence, through a soccer pitch that has been erected in the middle of the road. Just before turning the corner, I told him to what Georges-Louis Leclerc de Buffon had to say about man.
(the below is my best ability to translate from the original French- apologies if it is in error)
"Man, white in Europe, black in Africa, yellow in Asia, and red in America, is nothing but the same man stained by the colour of the climate."
As we turned the last corner, onto our street, we discussed Buffon's thoughts (beautiful imagery) and then discussed our creator. It wasn't hard to agree we're all the same because God created us equal (and in his image!), loves us equally and that Jesus came each of us.
Maybe I wrote this because it's been on my mind... Josue isn't the only one that has made a comment like this to me, and in their way, the comments have broken my heart. I have tried to follow these comments with a brief discussion about the fact that these kids are beautiful, loved, cherished children of God. I have tried to reinforce for them that they are just as their creator intended them to be, and that we are all equal. And then... I lift it up in prayer: A prayer that these children will see their identity is in Christ and in nothing else.
As they began to lag behind and we were left with only the faint whispers of 'Nasara bonbons' behind us Josue turned me: "Que des blancs sont devenus des dieus" (The whites have become like gods.) he said.
"Josue," I said "We are not! We have faults and we make mistakes. We're human just like everyone else. You and I have the same blood running through our veins."
"I know," he said 'But in Colonial times..." His voice drifted off.
"Well, I hope now people recognize how much we are all the same, regardless of our skin colour." I said to him. He nodded in agreement and we pedaled in a brief moment of silence, through a soccer pitch that has been erected in the middle of the road. Just before turning the corner, I told him to what Georges-Louis Leclerc de Buffon had to say about man.
(the below is my best ability to translate from the original French- apologies if it is in error)
"Man, white in Europe, black in Africa, yellow in Asia, and red in America, is nothing but the same man stained by the colour of the climate."
As we turned the last corner, onto our street, we discussed Buffon's thoughts (beautiful imagery) and then discussed our creator. It wasn't hard to agree we're all the same because God created us equal (and in his image!), loves us equally and that Jesus came each of us.
Maybe I wrote this because it's been on my mind... Josue isn't the only one that has made a comment like this to me, and in their way, the comments have broken my heart. I have tried to follow these comments with a brief discussion about the fact that these kids are beautiful, loved, cherished children of God. I have tried to reinforce for them that they are just as their creator intended them to be, and that we are all equal. And then... I lift it up in prayer: A prayer that these children will see their identity is in Christ and in nothing else.
***
Danouta
We have just brought baby Danouta to the hospital in Ouahigouya. Please pray for God's healing touch on this precious one. Pray for wisdom for the medical staff and those caring for him.
Danouta
We have just brought baby Danouta to the hospital in Ouahigouya. Please pray for God's healing touch on this precious one. Pray for wisdom for the medical staff and those caring for him.
3.6.10
Peligtanga
I've been promising an update for so long now! My apologies for the tardiness of this post.
Last Thursday and Friday (the 27 & 28) I was privileged to be part of evangelism in a village near to Yako: Peligantga, a grouping of villages near the gold mines. Sara, one of the other short termers here, had Peligtanga on her heart, and began the process of investigating how she might reach out to the village. I have recently joined her in working with the children’s outreach, and she also planned a women’s evangelism.
Last Thursday and Friday (the 27 & 28) I was privileged to be part of evangelism in a village near to Yako: Peligantga, a grouping of villages near the gold mines. Sara, one of the other short termers here, had Peligtanga on her heart, and began the process of investigating how she might reach out to the village. I have recently joined her in working with the children’s outreach, and she also planned a women’s evangelism.
This past Thursday we had an exciting morning that would have looked a little like a day from VBS at home. Many children from SW came along to help with the day's events that included worship time, bible story, games time and a snack, the children in Peligtanga had even prepared some songs, and a little theatre production. We shared with the children about God's immense love for them, and about how he has a plan for their lives, one of the boys from SW told the story of David&Goliath.
Below are some pictures of our games time in Peligtanga. (Photos by Lisa) 
Friday for the women's evangelism, and the goal was simply to bless the women and express love for them. Similar to the previous day there was a worship time and a time for messages and afterwards the four of us from SW washed the women's feet. As we sat washing feet and praying for the woman whose feet we were washing, the women filled the church with songs of worship and praise to the Lord. The presence of the Lord was powerful! Please pray for this ministry. Pray for the lives that were touched by last week's outreach, and the previous children's outreaches. Pray that God would continue to provide us with vision for Peligtanga (and other villages) in which He is calling us to share His love.
Here is a picture (taken by one of the pastors).
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