Motherhood, Ministry, and Comparison

The following is a portion of the transcript from a talk I gave to Stoney Creek Baptist Church's women's bible study:

(After introducing myself and our ministry...)

What I really wanted to share was what God has been teaching me over the last four years (our first four years in the mission field). Surprisingly, that has been a difficult question to answer. Actually, I feel like there are a million answers, and the problem is just deciding on one. I’ve had since November to think about this talk and what I would say. Honestly, it took me until last week to decide on a topic. I’m calling that topic, “Motherhood, ministry and comparison”. It has come out of my struggle to determine, what does it mean to be an effective missionary or for that matter, and effective Christian? I’ve summed up what I want to talk about in one catch all statement:

If you want to measure what it means to be an effective Christian, stop comparing yourself to those around you and start submitting yourself to God.  

What do I mean by this and how does it apply to my life?  Well, I’m just going to be honest. I’ve struggled with comparison all my life. I hope I’m not alone in this—I think it’s quite a universal problem. In my case, I’ve known it since I was a child. It started with sibling comparison—I was the oldest of three girls. It was the constant striving to be the smartest of the girls, or the prettiest, or the most petty of things—the TALLEST. As if I had any say and ability to affect how tall I was! It then progressed into highschool and university—and I wasn’t popular there (thankfully). It was comparing myself to the class, comparing myself to models on magazines, or the popular girls in school. It was the persistent pursuit of success—success in school, success in work, success in relationships.  And it all hinged on comparison—so long as I was better than those around me, I felt happy and content. But if I felt that I wasn’t matching up, if I was inferior to those around me, then it was a nagging feeling of disappointment. I was a Christian—most certainly, but that didn’t mean I was always willing and happy to turn this all over to Christ and sink myself in to deep scriptural truths about my identity. It often led to poor decisions, and I was aware of this—but I wanted to rebalance the scales, so I could compare myself to those around me and say with certainty, “Yes! I’m doing okay because I’m doing better than these people in these areas.” 

Once I was out of school and into the real adult world, I thought all this might be over, but, wow, I certainly wasn’t prepared for the dragon of comparison to rear its head again—and with much more vigour and power—when I entered motherhood. Motherhood perhaps is the ultimate test of contentment, perseverance, patience, and humility. It’s all too easy in motherhood to play the comparison game: are my kids hitting their milestones, or better yet, hitting them early? Are they smarter than so and so’s kids? Or if not smarter, are they happier? Kinder? More photogenic? Better at going to bed or eating or faster at potty training? There’s an entire industry built up to compare your children to those around you. And what about yourself? Are you succeeding as a mom—hosting the best parties? Preparing the healthiest snacks? Keeping the house clean? Are you doing better than your parents financially? Is your house keeping up to the same standards as the rest of the neighbourhood? Are you playing enough with your kids? Spending enough time with your spouse? Praying enough, serving enough, contributing enough to society? 

Now, I thank God that I moved overseas, because I will tell you one saving grace in my life—very few, to none of you, will ever see my clean or unclean house. Few of you will ever sit to a meal with me to know if I’m a good cook or not. You all have no idea if my kids behave well in front of strangers in Angola or listen to me *the first time* I ask for something or if my kids fight more or less than the average kid. I actually feel guilty for how nice my house is in Angola, because *compared* to the houses of average Angolans, my house seems like a dream … even though it’s very simple by North American standards.  

But despite moving overseas, I do still struggle with comparison—and in an area that, as I wrote this, and as I say it, almost seems laughable, but maybe some of you will laugh and then completely agree with me. I struggle with comparison in something I’m going to call the “sainthood scale”. What do I mean by this? It’s that “works-righteousness scale” that many of us, inevitably and only sub-consciously, form to evaluate ourselves on how we are doing as a Christian (based on everybody around us, or at times, every other living person in history). In our faulty logic, we’ve got mediocre Christians down here, you know, your relative who only makes feeble attempts to make it to church a couple times of year but made a commitment to Christ years ago. We’ve got the rest of us, just based on our sin from that day and how many minutes we’ve prayed, floating somewhere in here. And then we’ve got pastors and missionaries and Christian leaders up here. And at the top … Jesus. 

So, as a missionary teacher, working in a one room school house in a third world country, you wouldn’t think that I would struggle with comparison. Doesn’t this put me at the top of this so called “sainthood scale”? The problem is there’s always a million ways for our pride and comparison to sneak in. For example, I’m surrounded by amazing colleagues in Angola who are doing incredible work for the kingdom of God. There are doctors who are literally working all hours of the day performing amazing surgeries, giving life to those who face near death. They work so hard that sometimes I feel guilty being around them because my job doesn’t demand as much as theirs. Then there are those doing discipleship in their neighborhoods, or with the poorest of the poor. These people are the real saints to me. I look at my work at the school, where I’m working with middle-class kids and most of the time just dealing with their behaviour problems. And I think, what value is my work in the light of eternity, compared to theirs? Am I even worthy of calling myself a missionary? Then we have colleagues who are doing evangelism amongst unreached people groups. They go out for days camping in the wilderness sharing the gospel through the use of translators with a tribal group that has no church amongst them. I should be happy for them, encouraging them because they are doing very difficult work with little recognition. But instead sometimes I find myself feeling jealous that their work fits into the exact definition of what it means to be a missionary, while my work sometimes feels so mundane. Some days I get to preach the gospel, some days I’m just hunting down the students to get their work done, or marking a million wrong answers on an evaluation and wondering, “Were you even listening to me when I explained this?”, or just trying to get my own son to cooperate and not throw a temper tantrum.

All of this is compounded by the fact that surrounding us in Angola is an endless amount of need. Sometimes the poverty can feel so suffocating. There are hundreds and thousands of people around us that lack basic infrastructure, or fighting preventable diseases, or whose children don’t even own a single toy. One could literally pour themselves out day and night and barely make a dent in the level of social injustice in the country. And this isn’t even discussing spiritual matters. While many Angolans are Christians, this doesn’t mean that all of them really know Christ. Just as there is in Canada, there is a heavy burden of religion—people calling themselves Christians simply because they go to church on Sunday, but deep down they haven’t heard or understood the gospel. Again, this is compounded by the fact that people are poor and under resourced, many people don’t own a Bible or have never read a Christian book to help them understand the Bible. If they can read it all. When I look around at my surroundings, I feel overwhelmed. Am I doing enough? How could I do enough? Should I just drop what I’m doing at the school, to do more meaningful work amongst the poorest people?

I want to blame my issues with comparison and pride on what is going on around me but I know that the actual problem is in my heart. The problem is pride. The problem is works righteousness. I’m trying to base my value as a Christian on how much I am doing for the kingdom and when I compare myself to those around me and the immense need around me, I’m not doing enough. I could be doing so much more. I could be doing so much more with more joy. Perhaps I’ve struck a chord with some of you as I’ve shared my own struggles with comparison and pride.  

So, what is the cure to this problem—no, this SIN—of comparison and pride?

Well, as I alluded to in the beginning, step one is to stop comparing yourself to others. When has comparison realistically ever got us anywhere? When has it made us feel happier, more content? When has it brought me to my knees in prayer or confession? When has it spurred me on to the right actions—to loving my enemies, offering my coat, turning my cheek? When has it turned me upward to God and outward to others instead of inward to myself?

Stopping the comparison game requires practical steps, like opening your Bible and reading about your true identity in Christ. Here’s a passage to get you going, one of my favourites, 2 Corinthians 2:16-17:

¹⁶ So we have stopped evaluating others from a human point of view. At one time we thought of Christ merely from a human point of view. How differently we know him now! ¹⁷ This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!
Other practical steps that I have found useful include expressing more gratitude, whether in a journal, in your prayers, or in your words. It may mean changing the way you talk to yourself and others—battling back against those voices that say you are not enough or you are not worthy. Scripture tells us we are NOT enough, we are NOT worthy, save for the finished work of Christ on the cross. On the cross, he made us right with God, so that we don’t have to earn our salvation by anything we do or say or are. I love Ephesians 2:8-10.

⁸ For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, ⁹ not a result of works, so that no one may boast. ¹⁰ For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

We are enough because of him. We don’t have to work to earn our salvation—we GET to work because of our salvation. It frees us up to do work out of joy and not out of obligation. And he DOES have good work planned for you—starting right where you are!

Changing our own self-talk is important, even changing the way we talk to others—not always talking about people, not always talking about ourselves or trying to invoke pity—changing the habits of our tongue can have a big effect on our internal satisfaction.

But the most important step is submitting to God. This is the biggest area that I have felt convicted to work on. Daily, saying in prayer, “Holy Spirit, come fill me for today, that I may be an effective Christian in all I do. God, please guide me today to follow your leading, and the prompting of your Spirit.”

When we are open to listening and following the prompting of the Spirit, when we are asking Him to make even our mundane tasks meaningful, when we are looking for the work of God around us—that is what matters. That is what makes our ministry or our lives meaningful. We could be doing all the work in the world to save lives, serve the poor, building wells, or preaching the gospel—but if we aren’t in tune to God and submitting ourselves to Him, we may be missing out.

We're In Canada!!!

Happy New Year!!! What are the rules for how long you can say that for?

The December rush is over, and we're not just talking about Christmas. The end of our first 4 year contract meant multiple debriefs, medicals, and evaluations over the last 4 weeks; and now we get to settle into a bit more of a routine in London ON.

A big thank you to everyone who helped us with finding a place to stay, we found a place in London that is generously supplied by some new friends of ours who have opened up their home.

Some quick details on what we are doing for the next 3 months can be heard in the latest podcast episode linked below. Basically, if you want to hear from us, then we want to hear from you!

https://www.spreaker.com/episode/21439891

Rural medicine, medevacs, and more...

In early March, I (Marcel) had the opportunity to join a medical trip with Dr Tim Kubacki to the southeast province of Angola, Cuando Cubango.

These trips take place several times per year, where Dr Kubacki will travel via MAF to several small villages, performing rural medicine.

In an effort to describe as best as possible what goes on during these trips and explain what rural medicine / medevac flights / and some of the logistics behind a trip like this, I attempted to video document the four days as best I could in order to share the story of some of MAF Angola's most important work with you. You can also hear about it on the April 2 episode of "Breakfast with the Boers" podcast (find the link on the right side of this page).

"MAF Angola - Southeast Angola" on Youtube

 I hope you enjoy!

Three years here!

This last week, we celebrated three years in Angola! Can you believe it? Time flies ... and yet, looking back, they have been a busy, full three years!

Allow me to take a few minutes to reflect on the journey.

How has our ministry changed or grown over the last three years?

Two years ago, we were in a very different place emotionally and physically: exhausted by work, stressed out, overwhelmed, inexperienced. Marcel's health suffered because of his heavy learning curve and feelings of incompetence. There were big projects to be done--a Caravan engine overhaul, for one--and there were many small projects on the to-do list. We were surviving, but definitely not thriving. Yet, God was faithful--flights arrived safely, projects were completed, and even in the toughest moments, God would remind us of our calling here to Angola.

Incredibly, the amount of flying has steadily increased over the last three years--reflecting an overall growth in the MAF ministry. The number of flight hours reflects a growth in medical, church, and NGO flying to the far reaches of Angola. Yet, by God's grace, Marcel has not drowned in work. Since returning from our home assignment, things have gone much smoother. We've been much healthier in all realms, and much less stressed. God gave us rest, and it was just what we needed.

At the school, there have been several milestones to celebrate over the last three years. Our first graduate, Odon, finished his high school degree last year, and even attended the graduation ceremony in Nebraska. He is now studying business in Spain.

Over the summer, we were able to move into a new school building, which also allowed us to clean up, reorganize, and essentially have a "fresh start". While the last school year ended very well, this new school year started even better--we have four teachers for the year (Helena, myself, a German short-term teacher, Michelle, and a young Angolan, Crisio, who worked for us last year). We have 35 full-time or part-time students. Our internet has improved dramatically over the last three years. And most excitedly, we have had a gradual shift in the spiritual climate at the school--from anger and apathy towards God to much more interest in following God and seeing fruit in the lives of some of our "baby Christians" ... how awesome is that!

Thank you so much for your support through the ups and downs over the last three years! We are so ridiculously blessed, that's it's impossible to stay sad or mad with God when we consider how kind He has been to us in all the little and big ways!

Much love,
Marcel, Kelly, Ethan and Avro

P.S. We have started a podcast to help stay in touch through a different media--a podcast! We love to listen to podcasts, so we thought it would be a good idea! Go to iTunes and search, "Breakfast with the Boers"--we only have one episode so far, but there will be more on a monthly basis!

Then ... (2015, look how chubby, cute and bald Ethan is!)

... and now! (2018, at Tchincombe farm, my how we've grown and developed
bags under our eyes!)

Prayer and Praise Updates

Praise:

• Life has been a lot easier in this second half of our term. Returning from Canada was much smoother and easier that the first time we came, and both in work and in life outside work, things feel much easier and more familiar. Though it may seem silly, we praise God for things like better Internet, reliable energy, and filled potholes!
• The end of the school year was very enjoyable, and it felt like everyone left on a very positive, happy note. Students were enthusiastic for their year-end presentations to parents, and we had our first graduate--Junior--prove to all the other students that it is possible to finish and move on! He even went to the US for his graduation ceremony through the University of Nebraska High School!
• The school is also moving into a different building and this is exciting for us as it is larger and has more access to amenities. Praise God for a young German teacher coming this school year, and pray that the transition goes well for everyone.
• We've had great safety and impact in the last few months of flying--always a reason to praise God. Praise Him for lives healed through many of our medical flights!

Prayer:

• We recently had a team meeting to discuss future directives for MAF Angola, so pray for wisdom and open doors for our strategic plans! It was good to come together and discuss where we'd like to see MAF go over the next few years.
• Pray for a busy month of flying and maintenance coming--August is sure to fly by with training, and a new propellor for one of the 182s.
• Pray for our German teacher, who is due to arrive in August. She is waiting for her visa! Pray she will be a good fit with us at the school for the year.
• Pray for all our key partners--CEML hospital, the churches of Angola, and SIM--that we may bring glory to God here in Angola!
• Pray for more workers--particularly doctors and teachers--to develop a heart for Angola and join us here. 

On being a missionary mom ... a few unorganized thoughts

Ugh. I've determined something that many of you already know: the best way to get very little done is to have little ones that haven't got enough sleep.

Raise your hand if you just groaned there!

Today felt like a very mom-ish day. Not very missionary-ish. It's only now at 9:45 pm that I'm finally sitting down to answer emails and do "productive stuff".

But, I need to remind myself that this is a beautiful, difficult, valuable part of being a missionary too. My kids are my number one ministry--even if I'm tired of playing "airplane" with my three-year-old, and playing "Don't put that in your mouth!" with my 9-month-old.

As some of you know, my life is normally this awesome mish-mash of working at the school and being a mom. I say awesome because I really love the balance I have between school (8-3:30 pm) and being at home with my family (at break and lunch, and literally 2 minutes after I leave the school). It's kind of a teacher's dream!

Now that we're on holidays, I'm really appreciative of some of the extra time with the boys, but also in awe of moms who do this full-time. Good for you, stay at home moms! You are heroes! You might not speak to another adult for hours ... you clean only to have a messy kitchen minutes later ... you play games that make no sense at all ... and when your kids are really young, you're not even sure what they'll ever remember!

Well, I've reached the end of my "rant" ... I really just wanted to write a blog (long overdue) and couldn't think of anything else, so ... that's what came out. Kind of therapeutic I guess ... I promise a better blog later!

One of my favourite weekly "holiday" activities:
taking Ethan and Siena to the bread store, and then sitting and
people watching outside the compound. They love it too!

Up a creek with more than we deserve

Recently, we were able to get out of town for a few days at the beach. Something we always look forward to. This particular trip brought on a little more adventure than we anticipated. Here are some thoughts I took note of while on that trip...

The scene in front of my right now is one I think many people would pay big money for, and yet we get to do this on a bi-annual basis - On a beach, no one else, just Kelly, Ethan, Avro, and myself. There are 4 fishing boats way out on the water as waves gently roll in. A calm breeze passes under out shade tent, protecting us from a harsh sun. Birds are chirping somewhere behind me as I sit here watching for any whales on the ocean horizon.

This was far from the scene 2 days ago on our drive here. Our initial plan was to leave Lubango and meet Alex & Isaline at the beach. We were heading out by ourselves to this beach we've been to once before (a year and 4 months ago). We had a GPS track, and I figured that was good enough to find the beach again. As we travelled, we made the turn off the main road for the final hour and a half leg off-road. Things didn't quite seem familiar, but we credited it to the green scenery which was not in bloom last time. Things didn't seem familiar was confirmed when we reached a river that would require crossing. We drew near over some rough terrain which should have been our first sign to turn around, before stopping to get out and inspect the river. It was maybe 6" deep at the most, however it was soft sand on the bottom. At first I said we need to turn around when Kelly re-examined the GPS track and found there was an alternate way, the way we intended to take, but it was hard to ignore the signs for Piambo Beach. Examining the river once more, I decided it looked good, and the solid road on the other side looked inviting; definitely more inviting than the hour + we would have to backtrack, so I went for it. It started well, maintaining engine RPM and speed over the first 20 meters before... I got stuck. There was seriously maybe 1 or 2 more meters before reaching "solid" sand on the opposite side, but that didn't matter. Where we were was not solid.

I've tried to imagine what getting stuck would be like, since I knew living in Angola it is basically inevitable. I didn't think it would happen on a road nobody expected us to take (not even us), in an area without cell coverage, on a trip where we weren't convoying. For the next hour and a half, we attempted to get unstuck. Some local kids came, curious who/what/why we were here, and helped us to gather rocks to try and create a footing for the truck, but more importantly, they kept all of our spirits up. After that hour and a half, we had a decision to make: Keep trying to dig out, which was only getting us deeper (it was clear we needed something to pull us out. Note: next Windhoek trip, BUY A WINCH). Or hike the 17km to the beach where our friends were. So we grabbed water, some food, and headed out at 1:45pm. The first km was all uphill and took about an hour. Kelly carrying Avro, and I was carrying Ethan. I've done a couple big hikes before, but not with kids. Once we reached the top of the hill, I was gassed and trying not to let Kelly know. I had to lie down, so we took a 10 minute break before continuing in only t-shirt and boxers. Fortunately the rest of the trek was fairly level ground. At 4pm, Kelly's sandal broke, so I tied her sweater around her foot to offer some protection from the stoney road. We were quite a sight I'm sure.


After 9.5 km's of walking (3 hours that felt like all day) we heard a vehicle coming toward us. It was a couple of fishermen heading back inland, so we stopped them and pleaded our case with them. They offered us a ride and took us to a small fishing village near our intended campsite. There was several small huts and one house, the latter which belonged to a Portuguese man named Carlos. We explained our situation to him, but no one wanted to take us the 1km over to the beach, saying that there was nobody camping there. Eventually they sent someone to look, and it was confirmed to their surprise that yes, someone WAS camping there. We wrote a note for Alex to come get us, which was taken by another messenger. I noticed the logo on Carlos' shirt as the same company Alex works for, so I asked Carlos about it, and told him that our friends on the beach we were trying to contact is Alex - his co-worker! Alex arrived, and together with Carlos and another Angolan (also named Carlos) we went back to the river where we pulled the truck out. Hallelujah.

Throughout the whole day, Kelly and the boys were amazing. Ethan walked 4-5 of the km's himself. Kelly had the idea that we should pray for someone who's name corresponded with each letter fo the alphabet, which helped us make good use of the time, and Avro pretty much slept the whole day.

Next time you do this, Marcel, have a winch or take a tracker!

Thank you God for giving us more than we deserve.
--Marcel

A few thoughts from Kelly:

I don't need to recount what happened ... Marcel did a pretty good job of giving all the details. But I want to expand on Marcel's last point ... "Thank you God for giving us more than we deserve." This sentence may make very little sense to those who aren't Christians. What do you mean, "more than we deserve"? I think most of us hold the opinion that if we are decent, kind people who work hard and do our best, then we deserve "good karma"--good should come our way. But throughout the walk, the reality of what the Bible teaches struck me hard. "The wages of sin is death." (Romans 3:23) In light of our almighty Creator, who is wholly good and wholly just (because a god that is anything less is no worthy god at all ...), we are NOT good enough. We are not just kind of bad and mostly good. I think most of us know, deep in our hearts, that we are very, VERY broken. Disobedient. Selfish. Looking for answers in the wrong places and denying God in our day-to-day actions. Sinful.

The reality is we deserve death. But God mercifully provides us with good things every day--sunshine, food, shelter, providence when we are STUCK in a desert with no cell reception. Furthermore, He provided a way to be made right with Him through Jesus Christ. Perhaps you've heard it a million times, but it bears repeating one more time--through Christ, we can find peace and forgiveness with God. And that is no "small hope"--in the middle of a desert, walking with two small children, and ACTUALLY wondering, "What if something SERIOUS happens?"--it was not the hope of finding our friends on the beach that carried us through. It was the hope that NOTHING, not even DEATH, could separate us from Christ. For the Christian, death is not the end. Suffering is not reason to lose hope. Everything is secure and peaceful in Christ, and though we were once an enemy of God, we have been brought over to his kingdom, and we can rest secure there. He truly gives us more than we deserve.

Deep stuff ... eh? Well, that's the sort of thing you think about in the "desert places of life".

Ephesians 2:1-10, "As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, 2 in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. 3 All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our flesh[a] and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. 4 But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, 5 made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. 6 And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, 7 in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus.8 For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— 9 not by works, so that no one can boast. 10 For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do."