Recently I had a dream where I was trying to paint on other people's canvases and I couldn't find my own. As I was trying to find my own, I was tripping over everyone else's in the cluttered room. I woke understanding this dream to be about what I'm trying to do with my days. I had been trying to tag along with different people, seeing the 'educating educators' work happening in schools, visiting Fulani villages where other missionaries do 'bank' work with the local women, some sewing groups learning skills... all good things and all somewhat connected with my skill set. It is easy to look at the ways everyone else does things and change our expectations of what we should be doing and how. But the Godly expectation is simply that you would be yourself. I had felt God asking me to be myself, and perhaps looking into all these things was 'tripping me up' and I just needed to 'paint my own canvas' - not to mention the main theme of the dream encouraging me that to be myself, at least in this season, is to be an artist. Partnered with that, I had lost a lot of capacity as I tried some new headache medication, and art was about the only thing I could manage to do. So I finally acted on the idea of painting the wall on the side of our house with an image of a wise man looking at the star of Bethlehem. At some point I may add the other two but I didn’t manage that before Christmas. Lots of people and kids stop to watch or ask questions, a pretty strange occurrence for them that a white person would be painting in the street... It was after my obedience to this that a young artist found Brad on the street and asked if he could please meet me. This country is so poor that art is the last thing on people’s minds—it is something out of their world, so to meet someone who wants to do art for a living is pretty crazy. But here God brought him along, and I’ve been teaching him to paint. He is part of a group of artists opening a gallery soon but is wanting to improve his skills. So here we've been painting the same image of some wodabbe Fulani - still not finished but the most recent photo is below. I've been so encouraged that God brought along exactly enough that I am able to do in this season. I remember a friend among you writing and praying for “Andy-bite-sized” opportunities to come along—your prayers prayed back home are answered here. We are so grateful for you!
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I tried the suggestion of our local friend's headache remedy. Rub a bullfrog's stomache on your forehead. One evening a messenger was sent to our house from our local boutiques - send Brad over right now! Oh no we were worried something was wrong. But no, it was just that they had found a bullfrog and were trying to catch it for me. Brad assured them there were plenty under our house and not to worry. The next day, mid migraine, drugs weren't helping and I was getting desperate, so Belle and I decided to look for bullfrogs under the house... but weren't successful. As Brad walked home, midday, one jumped across his path. I took this randomness as a sign. I closed my eyes before I could see the animal and told him just to do it, and quickly. It felt cold and alive and pretty gross. It didn’t help. Afterwards our animal loving daughter chased the creature around our yard. Our friends were very pleased I’d tried but sorry it hadn’t worked. The next suggestion is the local witch doctor. No, no, thank you, I’d rather have a migraine!
All sorts of ridiculous things happen while Brad sits on the street chatting with his friends. One time a man walked up demanding money. One of our friends gives him the equivalent of 5c and he seemed satisfied. He turns his attention to Brad and demands again. (The white man has money) Brad shows that he has nothing on him. So the man pulls up his shirt and shows Brad that he has an axe with him. Is this a threat? Hmm… Brad remains super cool, and in his newly learnt French, decided to ask the man, would he like a banana? Brad grabs a banana from our friends stall and hands it to the axe man. The axe man mellows, bows in gratitude and says ‘merci, merci, merci “boss”.’ The next day Brad sees him again, still with his axe though this time over his shoulder… he is smiling and waving Brad down trying to get a lift. Ahhh, no, sorry mr. axe man, no lift for you. Each morning I go in our ‘guards’ quarters and get some millet to feed the rabbits. But one morning there is a horrible smell in there. Presently Brad and I discover some sort of “cooked” animal – it has been roasted on coals the night before in an old used fan cover (a popular grilling plate and bowl for locals) and it is in several pieces, some of which still have paws and claws. What on earth is it – has our guard trapped someone’s dog for dinner? That evening we find out it is some sort of African mongoose he has proudly captured, and yes, is planning to eat. But we accidently shame him by explaining Brad nearly vomited when he saw it, and so he throws it away. Nearly vomiting has become much more frequent for me here… seeing the worms still crawling in the cats diarrhea, regurgitated lizards or half eaten kittens left on the front porch, fermenting grass from sheep’s stomaches which have been killed for dinner dumped in the alley beside our house, driving constantly through open sewrage… our friend once even accidently stepped in a human poo!!! Dry retching, but laughing… what a crazy normality we live with now?! |
AuthorWe are Brad, Andy, Hunter and Belle. Hoping to keep you connected! Archives
May 2019
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