Lessons from the Tabernacle

Lately I have been in better rhythms about reading from the scriptures, and it's been extremely helpful. (Imagine that?!)

Most recently I've been reading in Exodus about the construction of the Tabernacle, or (in simpler terms) a place where God could live among his people during a time they living outside of their homeland.  In the past as I've read through these chapters I've sort of skimmed through all the details as I found them to be quite tedious.  However, this time I've so appreciated reading about the great task that was before God's people.   I imagine that the details (big and small) that needed to be attended to might have seemed overwhelming.  The monetary resources required were large, and I think an even bigger challenge was getting the right people in the right places to accomplish all of this.

During this season of our lives we are contemplating many "big picture" concepts about ethics in missions, the humility required for cross-cultural living, the value of short-term teams, responsible aid, etc.  The  concepts in this portion of scripture are INCREDIBLY insightful to me and I thought I'd share some of the things I gleaned from it. (Disclaimer:  I am not a trained pastor, teacher, or theologian but these are some of the ideas that have crossed my mind in the past day or so.)

1.  The offerings.  The first thing that was required of God's people when they were to build a place for him to live among them was that the Israelites who were willing were asked to set aside offerings for the construction of this work.  They gathered all sorts of things that were considered precious and monetarily valuable to them-- resources that were anticipated to be needed for the completion of this work.  Often times, people in ministry skip this step.  They believe that God has called them to some great thing but don't have a plan to handle the finances of it.   God provides.  We all know that.  In this case, when a project of this magnitude was about to be started, he asked for the offerings to be made ahead of time.   How would missions/ministry be different if we asked and allowed God's willing people to give sacrificially at the start of a great work to ensure it's completion?

2.  The excellence factor.  Each specific component of this work was incredibly detailed in terms of how it was to be accomplished.  God's people were literally building a place where they could be with the Him.  Isn't that what people in missions/ministry are desiring to do?  To create an environment where people can meet with God?  These things were not done in a rushed, hurried manner.  Quality and details (otherwise known as excellence) were required and expected.  Obviously, degaje (making do) is always going to be necessary at times, but it seems like excellence is the norm we see in this model.  How would missions/ministry be different if we planned and strived for excellence as we carry out the work we've been called to do?

3.  The skilled craftsman principle.   In a few places in the description of the Tabernacle construction, there mentions the need for components to be created by "skilled craftsmen" or "skilled workers."  This work wasn't to be done by just anyone.  All too often in ministry/missions we do not require this of our missionaries/volunteers/short-term teams, etc.  We have the opinion that having someone (skilled or not) is better than having no one. Or even worse, we often see with some (not all) missionaries who bring in a lot of short-term teams, that the bodies present on the ground are really NOT because of the need for the work they are able to accomplish on their trip, but for the money they bring in.  Unskilled "workers"are being used to do jobs that they cannot accomplish well only because of the financial gain that it will bring to the mission/ministry. (I have observed that this happens more in cases where the offering principle mentioned above is not a priority.)  This leads to shoddy workmanship, disintegration of the excellence factor (mentioned above), and frustration for both the worker and the person overseeing the work.  And in a big project, the consequences of this rushed behavior follow us for the rest of the project as we have to find work-arounds and change the plans to work within the realities we find ourselves in.  It is true that finding (or training) skilled people takes time but that's the model we see here.  How would missions/ministry be different if we took the time needed, exercised the patience required, and put in the work needed to fundraise for/find/train skilled people for the tasks we need to accomplish rather than working backwards to correct poorly-executed work?

Think about it.

Wavin' Flag

When I get older, I will be stronger,

They'll call me freedom, 

just like a Waving Flag,

And then it goes back, 

And then it goes back,

And then it goes back

Born to a throne, stronger than Rome

But Violent prone, poor people zone,

But it's my home, all I have known,

Where I got grown, streets we would roam.

But out of the darkness, I came the farthest,

Among the hardest survival.

Learn from these streets, it can be bleak,

Accept no defeat, surrender retreat,

So we struggling, fighting to eat and

We wondering when we'll be free,

So we patiently wait, for that fateful day,

It's not far away, so for now we say

When I get older, I will be stronger,

They'll call me freedom, just like a Waving Flag,

And then it goes back, and then it goes back,

And then it goes back

So many wars, settling scores,

Bringing us promises, leaving us poor,

I heard them say, love is the way,

Love is the answer, that's what they say,

But look how they treat us, Make us believers,

We fight their battles, then they deceive us,

Try to control us, they couldn't hold us, 

Cause we just move forward like Buffalo Soldiers.

But we struggling, fighting to eat,

And we wondering, when we'll be free

So we patiently wait, for that fateful day,

It's not far away, but for now we say,

When I get older, I will be stronger,

They'll call me freedom, just like a Waving Flag,

And then it goes back, and then it goes back,

And then it goes back

When I get older, I will be stronger,

They'll call me freedom, just like a Waving Flag,

And then it goes back, and then it goes back,

And then it goes back

When I get older, I will be stronger,

They'll call me freedom, just like a Waving Flag,

And then it goes back, and then it goes back,

And then it goes back

When I get older, when I get older, 

I will be stronger, just like a Waving Flag,

Just like a Waving Flag,

 just like a Waving flag

Flag, flag, Just like a Waving Flag

lyrics by K'naan

Watershed.

The past two and a half months have been a watershed time for me.  (See definition three.)

wa·ter·shed  (wôtr-shd, wtr-)

n.

1. A ridge of high land dividing two areas that are drained by different river systems. Also called water parting.

2. The region draining into a river, river system, or other body of water.

3. A critical point that marks a division or a change of course; a turning point: "a watershed in modern American history, a time that ... forever changed American social attitudes" (Robert Reinhold).

We hit this point in Haiti where we realized that life can't continue in its current trajectory and have made the decision to step back, try to take an objective look at what we do (with the input of others who love us) and see what changes need to be made in order to move ahead in a way that is sustainable and gives life to us and to those around us.  We'd been on the cusp of this watershed moment for a while.  We knew change would need to come.  But now that we've made this decision to jump in and affect change in our lives, there really is no turning back.  

This has been a lot of work.  I've been in therapy getting to know myself more fully-- my strengths and weaknesses, my successes and failures, the really good parts of my character and the really awful parts of it.    And we're unpacking it all-- the trauma.  The good times.  The bad times.  The hurts.  The joys.  The junk.  The drama.  And in addition to going to therapy, I'm actually WORKING our therapy.  (That's the hard part.)  

I am also doing the work of trying to hear from God everyday.  To give Him the time, through the scriptures, to let him speak into my life.  I am reminded of his perfect plan and how desperately we all need a Savior.  Day by day as creation spins in entropy-- further and further from the life we were created for-- God is there, calling us, whispering our name.  Gently reminding us that while things are out of control, He is not.  

I am doing the work of adopting healthier patterns and lifestyle choices for myself.  Reminding myself that life works best when we embrace the call Jesus gave to his disciples to deny themselves, pick up their cross daily, and follow him.  My natural tendency is to do none of those three things.  If I call it like it is, my natural tendency is to indulge myself, expect someone else to lug around my junk, and follow what I want to do.  My way has proven (over and over again) to NOT lead to the best life possible.  

I am using this time of separation from my kids to ponder the complex familial relationships we have with each of them.  To focus on them as individuals-- their strengths and weaknesses, their character, their preferences, and personalities.  We're usually so focused on our kids as a whole and not our kids as individuals.  We are starting to work on ILP's (individual life plans) for each child God has entrusted to us.  Trying to determine paths and strategies to further their development emotionally, spiritually, physically, educationally, relationally.

I am also using this time to work on my marriage... working on trying to love Nick the way that he needs to be loved.  In my head, I remember being much better at trying to consider his interests.  But somehow that was subject to entropy over time as well.  We're relearning how to love and trust one another more fully.  We're re-learning how to listen, how to work together in a partnership, and to cherish one another.  And I am embarrassed to admit that is difficult at times-- REALLY difficult.

In all these things, I am learning that it's a blessing to feel like I lost my mind, because when my mind was in control, I didn't have space for the mind of Christ.  (1 Cor 2:16)  With very clear indicators that my way wasn't working, I could be free with the process of surrender-- fully knowing and acknowledging that my way is not THE way.  As David says in the Psalms, "It was good for me to be afflicted so that I might learn your decrees." (Psalm 119:71)

I know a lot of people in various situations right now who are likewise at (or are quickly approaching) watershed moments.  People weighted down under health problems, people struggling with addiction, failing marriages,  serious financial trouble, people with un-manageable life or job situations.  I think these people KNOW that life isn't working.  But yet (like I was for a long time) they are still holding on to the shred of hope that if they can stick it out for just a little while longer, then everything will work out... that somehow they will summon the strength to get a hold of things.  But what I am learning is that life isn't about us getting ahold of things.  It's about us letting go of things.  It isn't about us winning or conquering things in our life that are big struggles, it's about us coming to grips the fact that we can't win with the hand we've been dealt.  And so rather than than fight and get knocked down time and time again, we need to embrace surrender.  

It doesn't mean that all of the problems go away.  They won't. I could list out two dozen major problems in my life right now that need solutions.  But when I look at things through the lens of surrender, I stop being paralyzed by the weight of all those unknown solutions.  Instead I approach the Lord with an attitude like, "Well God, now that you're in charge, looks like you have a long list of junk to tackle.  Let me know when and if you want some hands and feet to help with a specific task.  But it's also okay if you want to delegate that to someone else."

Long, long ago I started listening to the Indigo Girls.  (I know you know this because I talk about them like every 2 seconds.)  They have this song called, "Watershed" that I've always loved but didn't really fully understand until this season of my life.  Now it resonates with me like never before.  If you're at a watershed moment, listen to it by clicking here.  It's a really old song (and a really old video), but listening to their soothing harmonies and insightful words this morning was a soothing balm to my ears and mind.  It refocused my mind on the work I need to be doing (daily) to flesh out my circumstances while I am up on the watershed, standing at the fork in the road.

***

Watershed, Indigo Girls 

(Nomads, Indians, Saints Album)

Thought I knew my mind
Like the back of my hand
The gold and the rainbow
But nothing panned out as I planned
And they say only milk and honey's
Gonna make your soul satisfied
Well I better learn how to swim
Cause the crossing is chilly and wide

Twisted guardrails on the highway
Broken glass on the cement
A ghost of someone's tragedy
How recklessly my time has been spent
They say that it's never too late
But you don't, you don't get any younger
Well I better learn how to starve the emptiness
And feed the hunger

Up on the watershed
Standing at the fork in the road
You can stand there and agonize
Till your agony's your heaviest load
You'll never fly as the crow flies
Get used to a country mile
When you're learning to face
The path at your pace
Every choice is worth your while

And there's always retrospect
(when you're looking back)
To light a clearer path
Every five years or so I look back on my life
And I have a good laugh
You start at the top
(start at the top)
Go full circle round
Catch a breeze
Take a spill
But ending up where I started again
Makes me wanna stand still

Up on the watershed
Standing at the fork in the road
You can stand there and agonize
Till your agony's your heaviest load
You'll never fly as the crow flies
Get used to a country mile
When you're learning to face
The path at your pace
Every choice is worth your while

Stepping on a crack
Breaking up and looking back
Till every tree limb overhead just seems to sit and wait
Till every step you take becomes a twist of fate
(twist of fate)

Up on the watershed
Standing at the fork in the road
You can stand there and agonize
Till your agony's your heaviest load
You'll never fly as the crow flies
Get used to a country mile
When you're learning to face
The path at your pace
Every choice is worth your while

**

Four year Haiti-versary.

Four years ago today this young, fresh, bright-eyed, NAIVE family of five moved to Haiti.  We were full of dreams, hope, and answers.

Our dreams were only slightly squashed when (literally MINUTES after arriving in the country) we were robbed for the first time. (I don't think we ever told anyone this story.)  We were driving through Port au Prince and someone jumped on the back, cut the net covering our bags, stole one and ran off.  Fortunately for us (and unfortunately for him), he did it right in front of a police officer who quickly apprehended him. We got the bag back and we just wanted to be on our way to Jacmel, but the police were insistent that we go file a police report so the guy could be prosecuted.  I waited in the car with the kids while Nick was in the police station witnessing the young man who had stolen our suitcase become the victim of police brutality.  I snapped this picture as he left the police station with the bag. Welcome to Haiti, eh? 

Today, we are older, grayer, more wrinkled, and less bright-eyed.  Our dreams have mostly been completely squashed.  We realized we don't have the answers-- in fact, we have more questions than ever before.  And a few weeks ago when we arrived in the States exhausted from nearly four years of hard living (turns out our first run in with crime that first hour in Haiti was just a foreshadowing of things to come), it seemed like our hope had died as well.

But with rest, love from our friends and family, rest, access to first world medical care, rest, care from our home church, (Crosspointe), rest, counseling, and rest, (are you picking up on the theme here?) Nick and I have realized that our hope is not dead because Jesus is still alive.

We are full of joy even when we suffer. We know that our suffering gives us the strength to go on.  The strength to go on produces character. Character produces hope.  And hope will never let us down. God has poured his love into our hearts. He did it through the Holy Spirit, whom he has given to us. --Romans 5:3b-5 (NIrV)  

Additionally, being in better physical and emotional shape these days, we are renewed in our hope for what God has called our family to in Haiti.  It feels weird to spend our Haiti-versary in the states this year.  But we're thankful for the freedom we've been given by the Joy in Hope Board, our home church, and our supporters to take this extended furlough to focus in on rest and health.  It's working.  Day by day we are reminded more and more who we were "before Haiti."  We're remembering why we were hopeful.  We're remembering why we love Haiti.  And we're being reminded about the importance of relying on the Lord.

We're still not sure when we're returning to Haiti for good. We've recently decided to extend our lease here in NC past June 7 (which was when we thought we'd return).  In the meantime we've been returning every 3-4 weeks for short trips to visit the kids and make sure things are running well.  In spite of the fact that we miss our kids more than we can explain in words, we are trying to spend the time we need here to really address future concerns and plans so that we will be set up well for our next long (Lord-willing) jaunt of service in Haiti.  We feel tempted at times to take short-cuts to be able to be re-united sooner, but we are trying to focus on how we can really serve our family best for the long term.

We're thankful for your faithfulness in prayer.  We'd welcome and appreciate your prayers for our family (ALL of us) in the days and weeks to come.  Thank you also for your faithful financial support on behalf of our family.  Our Board was remarking to us earlier in the week how very steady and consistent you've all been to us through all the ups and downs.  We humbly ask your continued faithfulness in giving-- it's been an expensive season of life.  Tax-deductable one-time or ongoing donations can be given securely online at www.joyinhope.org/donate.  (Click on the "Mangine Family" link to make sure your donation goes to our family.)

Nick and I have been listening to a book on cd when we are in the car (without our kids, since it's not a book for children.)  It's called The Island Beneath the Sea and it's a historical fiction that takes place in Saint Domingue (what would become Haiti) around the time of the Haitian Revolution.  In one place in the novel, one of the main characters remarks, "Life on this island has hardened me.  Or let's say it has made me more realistic."  That quote resonated with me.  While I do believe there are parts of me that have been hardened over the past four years, I also believe that it's placed us in the position where the  best is yet to come.  I am excited to think about re-launching life in Haiti with the benefit of experience, but also a renewed sense of focus, health, and wellness.

Thank you for being our supporters, friends, cheerleaders, & co-laborers.  Thank you for your constant encouragement. And thank you for holding up our arms during the times when the weight was too heavy to bear (see Exodus 17:8-13).

With ever-grateful hearts,
Gwenn (for the ENTIRE Mangine Many)

Ti kouri. (Cornrows)

I made it a goal recently that I want to learn how to cornrow.   I have this friend named Aegis who is (like me) a vanilla mom with chocolate babies and she ROCKS this out.  Seriously, I kind of want to be her on this.   I figured that I could practice on Nico since he's growing his hair out.  I tried over and over, but it just seemed like his hair was always too short.  But I knew it wasn't, so yesterday I brought Nico over to Mabele's African Hair braiding and he got his first ever cornrows.  

The people doing all the braiding there were indeed African and it was interesting to listen to them talk to one another while doing hair.  They spoke French, but because of their accents, a lot of it sounded very similar to Kreyol (which is also derived from French).   It took the better part of an hour for Nico's hair to be done.  And he was brave, although it appeared as if it hurt a great deal. :)  Little buddy just hung onto the armrests of the chair like it was a plane going down.

(Exhibit A)

But in the end, he likes the result.  (And I think it's the cutest thing ever.)  It's so tight he still can't look down or up.  (Or even smile.)  And he cried himself to sleep because his scalp hurts to bad.  I even broke out my mom's sage advice, "Sorry buddy, but it hurts to be beautiful."  (To which Nia chimed in with, "Nana says that... A LOT."

But I think he's going to love the next couple of weeks we don't have to do his hair every day.  I am hoping that he will chose to have it done again in spite of the pain, although he insists he is cutting it when the braids come out.  (We'll see.)

I think he looks super handsome. (And I am going to practice on the girls this weekend while I am home in Haiti...  they have tougher scalps at this point and will let me play.)

Reunion.

Our good friends (formerly of Jacmel) the Browns came to visit us during this past week.

We haven't seen them in over a year and it was a happy, happy reunion.

There was all sorts of merry-making over their 4 day visit.  Our kids played.  We played.  We ate our way around the world-- Mexican, Vietnamese, Chinese (and a thwarted attempt at Ethiopian).  We talked for hours on end, laughed a lot, and re-earthed and gave new life to all the conspiracy theories about the Jacmel home invasions in late 2011. (During which Tammi was shot... which certainly was a serious thing, but you would know it by our hours on end of gun jokes.)  We learned more about their plans for their next assignment in Costa Rica, and were so blessed by just being together.

The Browns' trip down to see us was supposed to take around 12 hours, but thanks to transmission trouble, ended up taking closer to 16. (With FOUR kids ages 3-14.)  And then once they got here, they were faced with $4000+ in repairs.  This kind of thing is always a huge bummer, but my heart broke for them knowing that they are missionaries (read: tight budget) and currently raising support.    But they took it all in stride, laughing and making jokes about how the standard gift for a 16th marriage anniversary (which they celebrated while they were here) is a transmission anyway.

Seriously folks, these guys are the real deal.  If you're looking to partner with an experienced missionary family (they've already lived in Kenya and Haiti) headed to Costa Rica, check out their  most recent newsletter for more info on them.

Here's a few pics from our time together--

 Wolfing down fish sticks like they are some sort of delicacy.

The obligatory crazy picture.

Nick looking like psycho about the creamed frozen bananas we made that totally turned into an ice cream-like treat with a Ninja blender someone lent us.   The one-ingredient "recipe" can be found here.

Also, be sure to check out this video because OH MY GOSH.  Nick has got some moves when he's excited about food discoveries.

Check out these Hawaiian fajitas that had fresh pineapple chunks in it?  SO delish.  

(La Rancherita in Apex in case you're interested.)

And this is what happened when the moms went out to lunch and the dads were in charge.

This too.

It was a whirlwind of staying up too late, eating too much, and really tired kids, but man, it was fun.

Scouting flashback.

Back when I was in elementary school I was in the Brownies.  After a few years we moved up to be Girl Scouts with my best friend Amanda Case at my side.  I loved the scouts.  And I was a part of Girl Scout history as I was there during the time they switched from sashes to vests.   I was the top cookie salesgirl a couple of years because my mom used to be the housekeeper at Herder's Insurance company in Three Bridges, and her "in" there allowed me to travel from desk to desk during cookie season and pedal my wares to dozens of people at a time, while all the other girls were going door to door (suckers).  I did that, too, because these were the days when that was okay.  (There was none of this "set a booth up in front of a grocery store" business back then.)  But I digress.

We learned a lot of songs in Brownies.  I remember our leader, (Mrs...  er... S-something...  her first name was Mary... her daughter's name was Lizzie...  Um... can't remember it but it's on the tip of my tongue...) teaching us the Erie Canal song, teaching us how to sing in a round, and teaching us this old song that went like this--

Make new friends
But keep the old
One is silver 
And the other's gold

This past week I found myself reminiscing on the last 25-30 years since I learned that song and I must say I am an incredibly blessed woman to have lived a life up until this point absolutely surrounded by loving and loyal friends.  So many silver friends, so many gold friends...  it's impossible to describe all of the people who have woven in and out of my lives.  Dozens (hundreds?) of names are popping into my head right now-- and quite honestly, I feel like listing some of them out.  But I won't, because, quite frankly, I am afraid that, at this hour of the night, (about 2:00AM), I will forget to list someone deserving of being there.

But you know who you are-- friends of mine from the neighborhood in Three Bridges, elementary school friends, middle school friends, Creation friends, church friends, high school friends, college friends, family friends, Crosspointe friends and other Triangle area friends, social media friends, Haiti friends...

And to you (all of you), tonight I just felt I needed to say, "Thank you."

It is a certainty of this life that we all will face trouble.  Thank you that I have never had to face trouble alone.  Thank you for loving me in spite of all of the drama that is my life.  Thank you for being there for me and my family during the best of times and the worst.  You are loved and appreciated.

Friends love through all kinds of weather, and families stick together in all kinds of trouble. - Proverbs 17:17 (The Message)

****
Edited to add: Stalman was her last name.  Mrs. Stalman.