Daily Bread

“Give us this day our daily bread” is a prayer that takes on new layers of meaning when living in the village. For the people around me, bread is a special treat, not a daily event. Daily sago on the other hand, is what makes a meal. In fact the word for sago is the word for food, as it’s not a real meal unless it involves sago.

Although I am from a more bread-based tradition, I still do not have daily bread in the village. Instead, I have Saturday bread, as that is the day on which I have time and energy for baking. With no stove, I make my bread in the frypan as a series of foccacias. With no refrigeration, I make enough bread for a few days, but not enough to start a mould farm. Fresh bread lasts three days, and even then it pays to double check for furry spots before eating lunch on Monday. After that I eat crackers for lunch until baking day comes around the following Saturday.

Even without daily bread, my daily needs are well met, which is what the prayer is really about. I am well set up in the village, with both the food I bring with me and the food others give to me. I am not in want and with a little forethought and planning, can have a healthy balanced diet. In fact, more often than not, my daily bread (or crackers) comes with my daily nutella, which is a luxury item, but one which softens the edge of each day J

Welcome Home

Returning to Ubuoo village after a seven month absence I was touched by the warm welcome that I was given. I came on the back of a string of other visitors, so there had been plenty of welcomes already that week, but still I received a warm and heartfelt welcome back. This was a huge encouragement to me as I transitioned back into field work after four months in Australia.

Almost everyone welcomed me with a big hug, even the men. People didn't just wish me good morning, but wished me a very good morning. One or two families who had been away said they had come back specifically because they knew that I was coming. How lovely!

At the same time, I was enjoying seeing people again, and realising how much people have become friends and family over the last 18 months. There was joy in once again being around the gentle generosity of Pastor Aduma, the firm hand shake of Pastor Mark, and the smile and fellowship of the Goiravi ladies. There was a lot of joy in coming home to Ubuoo.

A few weeks after returning to Ubuoo, I visited an Ubuoo friend in the village where she and her husband now live. Gabido did not know I was coming, so when she saw me round the corner by her house, it was a huge surprise. Her response was to stand on the top step smiling and dancing with tears in her eyes as she called out "Mo merebehe! Mo merebehe!" or "My daughter! My daughter!" I felt like the Prodigal Daughter, and it was only nine months since we'd last met!

The idea of home is increasingly complex for me, as is the definition of family, but returning to Ubuoo at the start of October, I knew that I had come home to my family, even while I had just been at home in Australia with my family there.

 

PS. Apologies for the lack of photos of late. I keep writing posts when I have little time and limited internet.

Feet of Clay

Living and working in Gulf Province I am well familiar with having my feet covered in mud and clay, but that is not my theme. Rather, it is the reality of my human fallibility as I put one foot in front of the other living my life and using my gifts in the way I can and the place where I have made my home. Do not put me on a pedestal, I do not deserve it!

Travelling in Australia for four months and speaking about my work to churches and other groups, I was encouraged by how much interest people had in my work, and humbled by the kind things people said about me. In many ways though, it is easier to live out my Christian faith in PNG than it is for my friends at home in Australia. I deal with challenges of power, water, communication and culture. You deal with disinterest and prejudice.

Here, people are interested in the spiritual world, and want to talk with me about God. They want the Bible in a language they can understand so that they can read it and make sense of it in their daily lives. At home, where there are many Bible options and Christian resources, raising the issue of Christian faith and life is not easy. I think this disinterest is a bigger challenge than the physical challenges I deal with.

Compared to PNG, Australia has a limited sense of the eternal. Here, most things tie in to a picture that stretches back to ancestors and forward to descendants. In my Australian home, "life is short and then you die" is the philosophy of many. To talk about a life lived for God now, and with God eternally, is not a popular topic.

In Australia, we are so rich in resources and opportunities that we forget our reliance on God. In PNG, that is a lot harder to forget. I am regularly faced with the reality of tasks and situations which are well beyond my means. Even the daily things of life are not guaranteed, and teach me to trust. It also shows me how much I try to rely on my own strength and planning, and not on God.

When it comes to a life lived by faith, we are all on a journey. I have my good days as well as my bad days, situations where I trust God and situations where I rely on human wisdom and practice. In this I am no different to anyone else. Knowing myself I know I do not deserve the pedestal that some place me on at times. I have feet of clay.

Being part of God's mission in the world is not about going to the other, although some of us are called to go across to the other side. It is about being salt and light in the world, wherever you are and whatever you are doing.  I am not the only one in mission, you are too, and I hope that we can inspire each other to keep putting one foot in front of the other as we walk by faith, each in our own situation.

‘you must’

Living and moving between worlds can be … interesting. It is full of challenges and joys, but rarely is it predictable. This was something I came up against while I was home in Australia for four months of furlough/home assignment and people would comment that ‘you must…’. I tried to be gracious about their comments, but how well I achieved that was closely tied to how tired I was.

The ‘you musts’ often were most often  a comment on the wealth of Australia and the very different lifestyle that is lead there. I do not begrudge others the opportunity to live by a different standard when they can. Yes, I did have points of being overwhelmed by choice or richness, but that does not in and of itself makes those things bad, just something I’d not had a lot of exposure to recently. Yes, I had times of longing that people in PNG had the same access to opportunities and resources that Australians have, but that does not mean Australians can’t have them.

Australia and life there is most certainly different to life in PNG, in either Ukarumpa or the village, but that does not make it bad. Neither does it make it right. It means it is something we always need to be willing to reassess and not take for granted. It also means taking stock of where our hearts are at in relation to our stuff.

 My village house, for which I am very thankful.

I found myself having to take stock of my heart-state when it came to houses. I am so thankful for my village house, where I have space and privacy. My water tanks, solar power, gas cooker and indoor toilet are greatly appreciated and give me an easier lifestyle than everyone around me.

When I leave the village though, and return to my home in Ukarumpa, I am so thankful for hot water, 240V power that run my fridge and washing machine, a flushing toilet, a soft couch, a comfortable bed and a lot less bugs in the house. I am truly happy with my village house, but appreciate the comforts of Ukarumpa when I return there.

Coming to Australia, I was reminded of how simple my Ukarumpa house is in comparison, that my couch is not really that soft and that my mattress could be improved. I had to stop and take stock, remind myself to be thankful for the incredible blessing of my two houses and not get caught up in comparisons that would only make me discontent.

 My Ukarumpa house, for which I am also very thankful.

Australia sure is different to PNG, but both are places that I love, even as I become more comfortable in PNG than in Australia. My home country is an old friend, whose quirks I know fairly well, and sometimes think of endearingly, and at other times with annoyance. It is an old friend who I differ with at times, but who I still love as she is, difference and all.