Missing Old Navy

On his blog (http://sovgracemin.org/Blog/) C.J. Maheny is posting seven excerpts from his chapter on modesty in his forthcoming book, Worldliness: Resisting the Seduction of a Fallen World (Crossway, Sept. 2008). In the first post he states,

"When it comes to fashion, I’m deliberately out of step. I don’t care if what I’m wearing is trendy or not—in fact, it’s my goal to resist the influence of others (from Paris or Hollywood or anywhere else) over my wardrobe. Like any man’s man, I relish being out of style.

I want to feel comfortable in what I’m wearing, which is why my stained In-N-Out Burger T-shirt and old gray sweatpants are the most well-worn items in my closet second only to my single pair of jeans, which I wear any place a T-shirt and sweatpants would be inappropriate attire."


What a man. And I agree wholeheartedly with him.
His comments make me miss my blue Old-Navy zip-up hoodie I’ve had for over six years and still wore almost everyday to class, my Kansas Jayhawk sweatpants I’ve had for almost six years, my polo shorts I’ve had for almost eight years, and all of my t-shirts.

Kaputa Marathon What?!

This past Thursday afternoon I saw Chomba (the guy that usually runs with me) and he told me that there was a race here the next morning celebrating Malaria Day. I asked him the details and he said that it was going to start at 7:00am and it was a couple of kilometers long. Even though I didn’t want to run on the day I take-off from running and that I had no chance at winning such a short race, I knew the culture experience would be worth it. So the next morning I went to Chomba’s house about 6:30 and he told me that the time had been changed to 8:00. I went home and then back to his house at 7:30. We went to the clinic in the middle of town where people were registering and getting their bib numbers. I asked Chomba who we needed to see and he pointed directly at a really overweight man and said, “The fat man.” It was all I could do not start laughing out loud. Here fat people are pretty uncommon so calling someone ‘fat’ is the like calling someone ‘tall.’
It’s now about 7:45 and I’m thinking we need to hurry because the race starts at 8:00. I don’t know why I forgot I was in Africa and on-time is always an hour late at best. We made our way to the soccer field where the race was going to begin to find hardly anyone there and nothing at all was set-up. But it was now 7:55 and the fat man assured me everything was going to start at 8:00. Sure.
I knew it was going to be a while so I took a seat by myself and watched an African event unfold before my eyes. For the next hour I think I lost some brain cells as I tried to figure out the logic to what was taking place. There were several times I literally laughed out loud. One time was when the race director was handing out printed copies of course map (ummm, the race is 2.5k and you make 3 turns) that at the top said ‘Kaputa Malaria Day Marathon.’
So with the audio equipment running off the battery in the Land Cruiser that was parked by the tent with the two large megaphone speakers that distorted voices and all but two organizers of about 25 working, it was now time to put on my bib. Now I’m used to pinning my bib on with a couple of pins. However, this time it was a huge needle and some thread. Since I didn’t want 10 holes in my shirt, I asked the guy to sew my bib number on the waistline of my shorts. He couldn’t comprehend why I wanted it done that way, but I wasn’t about to explain how much I value my Auburn shirt and tell him it cost the same as the first place prize money for the race. Thankfully the bib got on my shorts.
About 9:00 everything was ready to go except we were still waiting on the ‘Guest of Honor.’ Keep in mind, while according to the fat man, the race is only 2.5k, it’s starting to get real hot and not to mention I’m getting really thirsty and hungry. About 9:15 the District Commissioner (town mayor) shows up as the guest of honor only to give, I mean read, his speech about malaria that someone probably gave him from an outdated encyclopedia. And he read it through the megaphone speakers that distorted his voice so no one heard him at all. Oh, and while he read in English, some other guy alternated with him reading the same speech in Bemba which again no one heard through the distortion of the megaphone speakers.
After the speech was read, they called the runners to the start line. There were male and female categories with the same prizes given to both. That means that according to common sense, everyone can begin at the same time, right? Wrong. The race organizer decided to let the women go first and the men start a minute later. Makes no sense. Well the fat man said the women should finish before the men start. Makes even less sense. Being tired and around no logic, which means I’m double grumpy, which means I know I don’t need to talk, I decided to offer the solution. Mistake. I proposed the idea of everyone starting together but they didn’t understand why when I explained. They wanted the men and women finishing separately. Okay, so then I proposed that the men start first and the women a minute later. The race organizer agreed it was a good idea but the fat man said no. The result was the women started and finished before the men finally started running at 10:00. All 24 of 25 of the men took off on a dead sprint so I was in last place for the first part of the race. Pacing obviously wasn’t part of their logic, I mean strategy. Over half of them ended up basically jogging at the end. Since this was a ‘marathon’ my finishing time definitely qualified me for Boston, which is really exciting. I was really tired of being around so many people all morning so I immediately came home after I crossed the finish line. I think I finished around 8th or 9th. I haven’t sprinted like that in years so the next morning I was actually sorer than I ever am after a long run.
However, the best part of the day was when I was sitting and losing brain cells, an older woman came and sat beside me, put her arm around me, and started talking in perfect English about how disorganized everything was and how she didn’t understand their logic. So not only was I shocked about an older woman speaking perfect English, but that she also felt the same way I did, only she was expressing it. I guess she knew what I was thinking. I asked her where she was from and where she learned English. She said that she went to college in the UK and was from Kasama (a town in the Northern Province of Zambia). She said she was a nurse but is now working for the UN and has lived in Kaputa the last four years. Her mother lives near so that is the main reason she is here. I was really excited to meet her and very glad to know about her nursing background. I’m looking forward to getting to know her more.
Basically something likes this seems to happen on a daily basis to where I literally laugh out loud and say, TIA, ‘This is Africa’ (from Blood Diamond) or as other missionary friends say, TAB, ‘That’s Africa Baby’ Only today it was magnified into an event. Even though I literally felt myself getting dumber from the seemingly lack of common sense, the joke was really on me as everyone here was just fine with the way things were handled. It was so much fun as the people here are great to be around, even though I have no clue, and probably never will of how their logic works.

The Resurrection

This Easter season, and especially this Resurrection Sunday, may you be "sorrowful, yet always rejoicing" (2 Cor. 6:10), in meditating on your sin, the punishment that was upon him, Calvary, the crucified Savior, death, the empty tomb, the Risen Lord, his triumph over death, eternal life, grace, and everything else the crucifixion and resurrection is about. 

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared. And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in dazzling apparel. And as they were frightened and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, "Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and on the third day rise." And they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb they told all these things to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene and Joanna and Mary the mother of James and the other women with them who told these things to the apostles, but these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter rose and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen clothes by themselves; and he went home marveling at what had happened. - Luke 24:1-12

Read:

Isaiah 52:13 - chp.53

The Intensity of Christ's Love and the Intentionality of His Death

Watch the video and listen to the message underneath the video:

Resolved Trailer : Good Friday

My answer: crucifixion. Though I reserve the right to change in 9 months. 

Heavens

The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. - Psalm 19:1

I love creation. These are just a few of the pictures taken from the front door here in Kaputa. Maybe I will show some more pictures of other nature in another blog.  A close friend of mine in ministry reminded me that, "We have been created in the image of God (Genesis 1) and created to glorify his name (Isaiah 48) ... how much eager should we be when we see people? Our hearts should groan to see their eyes opened to the stunning beauty of the Good News!" I couldn't agree with him more. 

Recommended Reading

Keller, Timothy. The Acid Test of Being a Christian.

http://www.monergism.com/acidtest.html

Piper, John. Desiring God.