The Promised Land

I spent this last week in a different city in the northern part of the country. We are establishing a relationship there for further work there in the future, one of whom will be yours truly! I hope to move to this city after my time studying in America. There's much involved in this vision that I hope to communicate more of when I'm back in the country. So, for now, I'll just say it was a successful trip and we really enjoyed our time there. It's beautiful, full of trees and surrounded by hills. It is quite the change from the hot, dry desert platte that I live on now! Here are some pictures:









This last picture is of some of the nomadic tribes that live on the way to this city. It's incredible. They live in these tents made of sheepskin and when they need to move they pack everything up on the back of their camels and move on. When I see these I think if the journey that Abram and Sarai (before God renamed them Abraham and Sarah) made when they moved their family from Ur to the promised land. I would love to spend a month or two just traveling with these tribes. Their lives are so intriguing.

the roller coaster of life

Living here is so crazy. Some days are just fantastic and other days my heart is so heavy. I don't feel like I have inbetween days at all....makes me feel a bit bipolar some days.

This week, our dog died. Not only did he die, but we figure he was poisoned by our neighbors. They kept tossing food over the wall to where our dog is and a day later, the dog started foaming at the mouth and vomiting. The next day he was dead. I cried. Our dog was great. He was the best dog I've ever seen here in Afghanistan. We have had dogs before but they've always been a little mean and scrappy. This one was gentle and playful and was great with the kids. I have no idea why they poisoned the dog...if he barked too much or if it was something against us because we believe differently. Either way, it makes me sad.
Here's a picture of the dog. His name was Tozik (a Russian name, named by our Uzbek family).



This week I'm also saddened by some more stories I've heard from the women's prison. Some of my co-workers go there every week. I'm not able to go most times because my work doesn't let me. But, this week one of my co-workers was telling me about a woman who was put in there. She was engaged to one man (which was arranged by her family) but she was in love with another man. She was going to marry the man she was engaged to because it would bring shame to her family otherwise, but she didn't love him; she loved this other man. Because she could not love him, she was sent to prison, probably by her family. Aghhhhhh!!! There is so much injustice here. They also told us that the police who patrol the street there saw that there were many beautiful women coming into the prison so at night they come in and "use" them like prostitutes. I cried last night when I heard about that. I can't imagine how heavy God's heart is for this place when he sees all of this going on. This place so desperately needs your prayers. Some days I feel like coming here was like coming to a crowd of thousands who are dying of thirst and I have one small cup of water in my hand. I can give them that water, but there is so many around me who are still thirsting.

So, yeah, depressing post, but maybe people can understand why the ups and downs here. and keep praying!!!

My home

Well, after much time, here are the photos I promised of my current house that I just moved into about a month and a half ago and which I will be leaving in about a month and a half. We affectionately call it "the palace" because compared to the mud homes around us, it is like a palace. And it's Pakistani-style with the woodwork and the moulding on the ceiling. (which when we moved in one of the children looked up and said "Look mommy, cake!" (I've included a picture for you to see.)

A little bit of a rant

You know, I really don’t like it when people used terns like “closed countries.” What it really means is that it’s a bit difficult and more effort than is worth anyone’s time to be there. I live in one of your so-called “closed countries.” And yes, I’m not going to say it’s all sunshine and roses and warm-fuzzy feelings (because the sun causes heat that escalates up to 125 degrees, the roses are surrounded by dust and piles of trash and the warm-fuzzy feeling you are experiencing most likely means you are about to get sick with a foreign friend that invaded your tummy during the last indulgence on street food). But, I wish people would not talk about places and people like the people that I know and live with like God has rejected them and there is no hope for them. The truth is I talk about God all day long…you know what a closed country is? America. We have so politically-corrected ourselves so you can never say what is truly on your heart and you can’t talk about the deep stuff of life because it may conflict with someone elses’ view and would deem you “intolerant.”

So these countries, these places are not closed. They are not locked and existing outside your own little world. They are real places, with real people and often times, they are the most open places for God to do what he wants because it is full of people who are in desperate need of Him. There’s no where else to turn and we get the priviledge of sharing the message of the One who is There. He is not limited by borders and governments. Our God laughs at man-made political boundaries because His kingdom has no end.