Canadians

Canadians are wonderful folks, don't you think. I suppose I may be a bit biased, but ...

In September and October we had guests from Canada. It was a delight to share your home and time with them.

In August of 2009, when we were back in Canada, we met a couple from the Vancouver area. At the time we met, their hopes to adopt a Mosotho baby had just been dashed. They had been matched with a baby but then things happened here, and it just did not work out. However, they did not give up, and when in Lesotho in September of this year it was to be united with their children, a brother and sister. I think their wait has been worthwhile, the brother and sister are a most delightful pair.

Delightful you say? ... her? Humph!

The folks, Garry and Tracy, along with an older son (Tyler), were staying in a guest house in Lesotho.

Garry and Tracy, and their children.

But a guest house, even a nice once is still only a step up from a motel, and we tried to have them over often to give the children a place to run, and them a place to hopefully relax a bit. (Maybe Tracy would not say "relaxed" when she thinks of the day we dragged her and Tyler and the two little ones up a mountain.) The days were hot, and the water hose helped the children cool off. They had a sandbox to dig in; Tsepiso, the boy, did his best watering the garden and helping light the braii (charcoal barbecue); and he and Reitumetse, the sister, knew exactly where our toy box was and what was in it.

...delightful??? You bet I am!

What contributed to the "wonderful" designation was how the family made themselves at home. After a meal, Tracy would be up and in the sink washing the dishes. She never asked, she just quietyl made our home, her home. We did not have to entertain. Wendy and I could just 'be' and that made for wonderful times together.

Then a few weeks later we had guests over from our home church in Canada. No busy little ones this time, but we had G-POP . Check him out on U-Tube. It was a busy week, sharing with them our lives in Lesotho, and introducing them to our friends here. Again, what contributed to making their visit wonderful was that they quietly made themselves at home. Both Wendy and I tended to be busy or away in the mornings. No problem! George figured out the coffee maker right quick, it didn't take Esther long to sort out what was where in the kitchen, and Anton found his role in the sink washing up. They had their own little routine for breakfast and even when I was home, I just stayed out of the way.

When they weren't fending for themselves we enjoyed good fellowship together as we traveled about, shared meals together, and chatted and talked about life and things and the God we serve.

Nkono (grandmother) was very excited to have

guests from Canada visit her home.

Memories of Lesotho.

Both visits have left me with a warm and comforable feeling. Some might say it is just latent desires to return home to Canada, or that there is something special in connecting with compatriots, and they may be right to a point, but I also say that Canadians know how to make themselves comfortably at home, away from home, ... at least these Canadians did and that made our time with them that much more relaxing and enjoyable.

Yeah, Canadians.

Cameras always draw excited attention.

~ Benno ~

Ho Haha - Reprise

Here is a further update on Ausi Moselentja's house and family.

I was out to the home on Friday to pick up the last of the tools the Machabeng volunteers had used when they created the garden plots. I picked up a few packets of garden seeds to take along.

When I arrived at the house, Ausi Moselentja's younger brother, Lehlohonolo, was forlornly wandering about the yard with a hoe hacking at weeds and grass here and there. The garden plots were ready, we had had a nice rain, and he was ready and wanting to get to planting their garden. But there were no seeds. Moselentja related how he had been asking when they might get some seeds. I spent M70, (about $11 Cdn) on the seeds. A paltry sum by Canadian standards, but an amount which would have been out of the reach of Ausi Moselentja. Anyways, when I arrived with the seeds it was almost like Christmas.

As he brought each seed packet from the shopping bag, Lehlohonolo would whoop with delight and show it to Moselentja, just like a child at Christmas might show another the gift he had just unwrapped. Then he was off and back in a few moments with a knotted piece of string and a couple of sticks with which he staked out a straight line and he was planting his seeds. I got to enjoy seeing his broad smile as I helped him with planting the corn/maize, then he was onto the pumpkin and beet-root while I was loading the vehicle.

Meanwhile Moselentja was busy waxing the floor and the steps to her house. She has also been busy adding some other touches, making her tiny house a home. What a pleasure it has been for me to be part of this project and witness the delighted smiles on the faces of Ausi Moselentja and her siblings. So little, really, has brought so much hope and delight to this little family.

~ Benno ~

Ho Haha

Ho haha - 'to build', in Sesotho. Something I though I might never do was build a house, but I have had the joy of seeing a little house built for Ausi Moselentja, the young girl whose house was flooded, whose family and life was split between a number of neighbors. I have written about her situation before, and now I can provide a delightful update.

In writing about our life in Lesotho, surrounded by so much need, I try not to specifically solicit support for projects or situations. So when funds do come, it must be God. That is what has happened with the house for Moselentja. A person here in Lesotho was aware of her need, and that started the process. There was a time when the funds committed would barely get the house built, but as an organization the Mustard Seed decided we would proceed and then other funds came in. The last donation truly was God reminding me that he is our provider.

I was writing a letter. I was sharing about Moselentja's house and though at that time we had enough funds to build the house, there were no funds for extras like painting the interior and having the city water brought on to her site. I wanted to hint in my letter that it would be nice to be able to do that for Moselentja, but the little promptings in the recesses of my mind said not to. So I didn't. The very next day I received an e-mail from friends saying they were sending some funds to use as we chose, but they then suggested maybe the funds could be used to add a few extras for Moselentja's house. God had truly provided.

The building site. Unfortunately Moselentja's garden had to go.

The old hut that would come down.

The preparations began in August, getting materials quotes, and lining up the workers. First was to bring down an old hut on the site and the initial materials were paid for and delivered on August 17. Then we were delayed about a week waiting for the bricks to be made, but by the end of August we were under way.

Laying the foundation.

We hit a snag when one of our workman, a small time contractor, was offered a contract elsewhere. I like to think that God blessed him. Even, though he had not been working, he had a tough time coming on board with our little project at the rates we could pay him. But he said he would do it for the sake of helping an orphan family. Well, just after they got the floor poured he received a contract offer to do painting at the new national hospital being built (another story for another entry). There he has about three months of work for him and about seven other men from his community.

The walls going up.

That left us with our friend Ntate Kuena, the helper, not the trained builder, but he struggled along for a couple of days on his own, and then God provided again. Through our new staff member, some unemployed, but accomplished builders, offered to assist. Up went that little house. They even asked to do the painting, which we now had the funds for.

On October 01, the house was ready for Moselentja to move in. She is so happy to have a place of her own. It is tiny, the size of a bedroom in Canada, 12' x 10.5', but it is hers and her family's. She shared how they all snuggle together in their bed and chat happily, together, before drifting off to sleep.

Moselentja and her brothers and sister in front of their new home.

(With a little visitor in the corner.)

Then another blessing. Students at Wendy's school need to do service hours. So for three days we had five of them, under Ntate Kuena's supervision. They cleared stones and debris, and needed to wield a pick axe to dig into the baked, hard packed ground. As with any group of volunteers, Ntate Kuena's assessment was that two worked very hard, two did some work, and the fifth student's role was to entertain the others with her non stop chatting. Nonetheless, today, waiting for the rains and a few seeds, are three little Lesotho garden beds that would have taken Moselentja untold days to develop.

Thank-you to those who have prayed for this project, and others who supported it. The water installation fees have been paid and now it will be waiting for a couple of months for the installation. And there are a few funds remaining to add another one or two more touches to the inside of of the house.

Ho haha. It was a lot of work and a learning curve for me. My pencil is not as sharp as the Australian woman who provided the plans and materials list. Nonetheless, amidst the struggles and challenges I referenced in my last entry, it has been a joy to seen Moselentja in her own home.

Jehovah-jireh; the LORD Will Provide.

~ Benno ~

Doing My Duty

I would like to say that I have not been adding to the blog for the past six weeks because I have been busy. Yes, I have been busy, however my lack of writing reflects more my reticence to write about the struggles of my soul.

I left Canada three years ago. I remember even then part of the struggle. In leaving Canada was I just "doing my duty"?1 At that time that was how I sometimes felt. I even considering calling our blog, "Just Doing Our Duty." The passage in Luke1 is a tough one, inferring I serve a demanding master who seems disinterested in my needs and burdens. Following God 'step by step' sounded more of an adventure, not as mundane and uninspiring as just 'doing my duty'. The last six weeks has been struggling to come to grips with a God who promises no recognition or reward, who expects that I just "do my duty".

A number of the girls the Mustard Seed serves have been making poor life choices. They have not had the strength and courage to follow the narrow way, but have followed the crowd. We talk of peer pressure in Canada, but I think it is even harder here, in a culture that demands greater compliance with group expectations. So we have one girl stealing, another dabbling in drugs, a third pregnant, another couple - I'm not sure I want to know what they have been up to. My response was to question God. I am still smarting from the Amy Carmichael story and it was easy to question his plan and purpose when things seemed to be going wrong.

I had thought I was following God 'step by step', that the people and situations he brought across my path were not coincidences but part of his direction for my life. Now seeing the behaviour of the girls it all seemed to have been so in vain. Allegations of a lack of integrity concerning one of our board members added to my disappointment and discouragement. Maybe I had not heard God. Maybe I was just using His name in vain, suggesting that 'coincidences' were anything more than just that, coincidences. I felt let down by God. I had completed my part in leaving home and friends and family, and what had he done. Not much it appeared. I argued with God.

I was not just questioning God, I was angry at him. I still have not resolved the story of Amy Carmichael, and it was easy to let my anger at God's seeming injustice in her life be rekindled.

So God, I left Canada, seeking to follow you one step at a time, and after three years of trying to understand and obey your desires this is all I get, failure.

You promise to hear my prayers.2 Well I have been praying for the Mustard Seed girls. Is your arm to short to save and protect them?

You promise life to the full3, but what do I get, discouragment and disappointment and questions.

On one hand you say that I am fearfully and wonderfully4 made but more often you remind me of my worthlessness5 and unrighteousness. An unworthy servant expected to just do my duty6.

You call me friend7, but it seems always conditional8. What kind of friend is that? Where is the friend that "always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres"9?

God, if you do not exist or cannot change situations, then life is truly a chasing after the wind10, pointless and futile, where the one with the most toys wins. Is this all that life is?

How does God speak? When do we hear the voice of God? A day came when I was confronting God with my questions. "Jesus you said, your sheep hear your voice."11 I had sought to hear and understand his voice and to obey it, yet all around me seems to be failing. I was discouraged. If what I was doing is just chasing the wind, I wanted to quit. How does God speak? In the midst of my muttering and bemoaning it was like I caught a phrase from an over heard conversation, "I am not finished yet." Was it my imagaination? Was I grasping at straws? Yet there was something in the words that compelled me to listen. I opened my Bible, I was reading in Matthew, and I prayed, "Lord give me something more, something in addition to a barely audible, 'I am not finished yet.'"

That day I was reading in Matthew 14. John the Baptist, the man who had boldly proclaimed of Jesus, "Behold the Lamb of God",12 was now cast aside, in a prison for declaring the word of God, about to be executed. This John who had boldly proclaimed Jesus' messiahship was struggling with doubt and uncertainty. He had sent his disciples to ask of Jesus, "Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?"13 John died in prison, never having heard Christ's final cry, "It is finished!"14 John had went about in rough clothing, living on what he could, and never saw the finish. Who was I then, to demand that I see the finished result of God's work in and through my life. And as if to tempt me at that moment I received a phone call telling me of another disappointing decision of one of our girls. "God," I wondered, "are you just playing games with me?"

A couple days later as I continued to struggle, I thought of Paul the apostle. How must he have felt at times? Flogged, beaten, imprisoned, shipwrecked, toiling without sleep or food, and carrying the concern of the churches.15 What am I experiencing compared to Paul's struggles?

I can't say that since that day, all has been well. I continue to struggle with setbacks, and discouragements. But, I have let go of some of my anger and distrust of God. John the Baptist's picture of what Jesus, the messiah, would accomplish must have been very different that what occured, causing John to question. My challange is to let go of what I expect God to accomplish and to trust that he has a finish planned for what he has begun.16 There are good things happening, and I need to not let the discouragements cloud the good things. (We finished the house for Ausi Moselentja and her siblings. There are some God things in that story that I will share in a later entry.)

I will leave the last work to Solomon. "A man's steps are directed by the LORD. How then can anyone understand his own way?" Proverbs 20:24

~ Benno ~

1 Luke 17:7-10; 2 Matthew 7:13, 14;

3 John 10:10; 4 Psalm 139:13-16;

5 Romans 3:10-12; 6 Luke 17:7-10;

7 John 15:15; 8 John 15:14;

9 I Corinthians 13:7; 10 Ecclesiastes 2:17;

11 John 10:3 (KJV); 12 John 1:29;

13 Matthew 11: 2,3; 14 John 19:30;

15 II Cor. 11:23-28; 16 Philippians 1:6