The Way
But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed.
Isaiah 53: 5
It's the first day back at school after a two week break and I can honestly say, just as I felt at the end of our last two week break, I am ready to go back to school. I have learned here how differently a "break" feels when your work does not constantly keep you running. When it doesn't leave you collapsing in bed exhausted at the end of the day and groaning at the alarm clock the next morning. Of course my job keeps me busy and there are days where I am dead tired- but there's something different about it. I think that means I'm doing what I should be doing.
The first week of the break I went to Zanzibar with a group of my friends. Zanzibar is a small island that used to be it's own country, but is now part of Tanzania. We took a bus from Morogoro to Dar es Salaam and then we took a small plane to the island. This was my friends' first experience flying and their reactions were priceless. And although all of my friends were born in Tanzania, none of them had been to Zanzibar before. We stayed in an AirBnB with a water view (and AC and the most comfortable bed I've ever slept in) and spent five days together swimming, laughing, and eating yummy seafood. We spent one day snorkeling (also a first for all of us) in the clearest, bluest water I've ever seen. It was the color that you see in ads on TV for cruises or beach resorts, that looks too blue to be real- and yet it was. Watching my friends- some of whom had only swam once or twice before- wearing full on scuba suits, flippers, and masks, floating around the Indian ocean finding fish and anemones, only popping out of the water to laugh and express their excitement- it was an awesome experience. Something we all wish we could've done again and again. Another day we took a boat to what is known as 'Prison Island'. The small island was once home to a prison which was later used to quarantine people suffering from yellow fever. Now however, the island is inhabited by giant turtles. Hundreds of them. We spent over an hour walking around the turtle sanctuary finding as many turtles as we could, checking for the age that was written on their back. The oldest one we found was 186 years old! At the end of the trip, none of us were ready to come back to reality.
We came home on Good Friday and spent Easter here with our church family. It was a hard day for me. Maybe the hardest since moving here. Over the past ten years our family has established a pretty great Easter weekend celebration. We start on Maundy Thursday and spend the whole weekend together. We stay up late talking and laughing. We cook every meal together. We dye eggs and make flower nests. We sing and play games and on Easter morning we celebrate the glorious resurrection of our Savior together in worship. While I love Christmas and Thanksgiving and Mother's and Father's Day, Easter has become my favorite holiday. Something I look forward to every year. Just as I'm sure it is for every family- Easter is different here. We didn't celebrate in any special way. We went to worship on Easter morning where we sang the same songs we normally sang. Attendance was actually low as many people were travelling to be with their families. The pastor preached on readings from Revelation and Colossians. We didn't hear the resurrection story and there were no shouts of "Christ is Risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia!" We came home from church and had a normal day. And it broke my heart. I called to talk with my family who was gathered together for lunch after church. I held it together while my mom told me about their morning, but when she put my grandma on the phone I couldn't anymore. I hung up and burst into tears.
This past week I rested and got things done around the house. I slept in. I played with my dog and cat. I binged episodes of The Good Wife on Netflix. I cleaned out my closet. And by Wednesday I was starting to feel guilty. I hadn't had that much down time since our last two week break back in September. I pushed the guilt away with prayers of thanksgiving for time to rest.
The truth is, the break, the time of rest, came at the most needed time. I say that because the weeks leading up to it were full of hard conversations and difficult decisions. Although I knew at least in part even before I moved here, since moving here God has shown me that he wants me here. And not just in a one year, educational experience, great memories kind of way, but in a make a life, build relationships, long term kind of way. I felt it when I first came here, I felt it when I moved here, and it was reaffirmed when I visited the U.S. for Christmas. In my mind, if God was calling me to serve here long term, that meant doing exactly what I'm doing, exactly where I am doing it. But as 2019 has unfolded, God has shown me that a year here is enough. He has another place for me to serve. It wasn't one moment all of a sudden where I heard a loud voice telling me it was time- it was months of little signs, time spent in prayer, time spent in tears, and time spent in silence. And I fought it. I love being here in Morogoro. I love my home and my friends and my kids. My heart wanted to stay here, at times regardless of the obvious signs that were telling me, "No." But the week before our trip, I decided to listen. I informed the pastors that I would not be extending my time, but indeed be leaving in June as originally planned.
Finally making the decision or rather, finally listening to God's guidance, brought me great peace. Much more than I expected to feel. But it also brought out my human fears. If not here, where? Do I go home? Do I stay and try to teach somewhere else? What about money? My resources are depleted. I have to earn money somehow. What about insurance? My medications are all running out. June is just over a month away. How can I find something so quickly? Of course I called my mom and asked her several of these questions to which she responded with her usual, great advice. She told me, "I spend the most time worrying about the things of this world. Money. Jobs. Healthcare. That's what keeps me up at night. And yet those are things that God has shown me over and over again not to worry about." And as usual, she was right.
God has always provided for us. Even when it seems there is no way, he finds a way. That's the power of the resurrection. In a world where it seems nothing can mend our brokenness, God sent his son to mend it all. He was the way where there was no way. It doesn't matter if we practice all the right traditions or sing all the right songs or read all the right bible verses- Jesus is indeed still risen, and through him we have life.
In this week of rest, God has already shown his provision for me. And while I don't know yet exactly what the next six months or year or five years are going to look like, I trust that God will make a way. I ask for your prayers as I discern where God is calling me next and your continued prayers for my community here in Morogoro.
Mungu akubariki,
Allee
Isaiah 53: 5
It's the first day back at school after a two week break and I can honestly say, just as I felt at the end of our last two week break, I am ready to go back to school. I have learned here how differently a "break" feels when your work does not constantly keep you running. When it doesn't leave you collapsing in bed exhausted at the end of the day and groaning at the alarm clock the next morning. Of course my job keeps me busy and there are days where I am dead tired- but there's something different about it. I think that means I'm doing what I should be doing.
The first week of the break I went to Zanzibar with a group of my friends. Zanzibar is a small island that used to be it's own country, but is now part of Tanzania. We took a bus from Morogoro to Dar es Salaam and then we took a small plane to the island. This was my friends' first experience flying and their reactions were priceless. And although all of my friends were born in Tanzania, none of them had been to Zanzibar before. We stayed in an AirBnB with a water view (and AC and the most comfortable bed I've ever slept in) and spent five days together swimming, laughing, and eating yummy seafood. We spent one day snorkeling (also a first for all of us) in the clearest, bluest water I've ever seen. It was the color that you see in ads on TV for cruises or beach resorts, that looks too blue to be real- and yet it was. Watching my friends- some of whom had only swam once or twice before- wearing full on scuba suits, flippers, and masks, floating around the Indian ocean finding fish and anemones, only popping out of the water to laugh and express their excitement- it was an awesome experience. Something we all wish we could've done again and again. Another day we took a boat to what is known as 'Prison Island'. The small island was once home to a prison which was later used to quarantine people suffering from yellow fever. Now however, the island is inhabited by giant turtles. Hundreds of them. We spent over an hour walking around the turtle sanctuary finding as many turtles as we could, checking for the age that was written on their back. The oldest one we found was 186 years old! At the end of the trip, none of us were ready to come back to reality.
We came home on Good Friday and spent Easter here with our church family. It was a hard day for me. Maybe the hardest since moving here. Over the past ten years our family has established a pretty great Easter weekend celebration. We start on Maundy Thursday and spend the whole weekend together. We stay up late talking and laughing. We cook every meal together. We dye eggs and make flower nests. We sing and play games and on Easter morning we celebrate the glorious resurrection of our Savior together in worship. While I love Christmas and Thanksgiving and Mother's and Father's Day, Easter has become my favorite holiday. Something I look forward to every year. Just as I'm sure it is for every family- Easter is different here. We didn't celebrate in any special way. We went to worship on Easter morning where we sang the same songs we normally sang. Attendance was actually low as many people were travelling to be with their families. The pastor preached on readings from Revelation and Colossians. We didn't hear the resurrection story and there were no shouts of "Christ is Risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia!" We came home from church and had a normal day. And it broke my heart. I called to talk with my family who was gathered together for lunch after church. I held it together while my mom told me about their morning, but when she put my grandma on the phone I couldn't anymore. I hung up and burst into tears.
This past week I rested and got things done around the house. I slept in. I played with my dog and cat. I binged episodes of The Good Wife on Netflix. I cleaned out my closet. And by Wednesday I was starting to feel guilty. I hadn't had that much down time since our last two week break back in September. I pushed the guilt away with prayers of thanksgiving for time to rest.
The truth is, the break, the time of rest, came at the most needed time. I say that because the weeks leading up to it were full of hard conversations and difficult decisions. Although I knew at least in part even before I moved here, since moving here God has shown me that he wants me here. And not just in a one year, educational experience, great memories kind of way, but in a make a life, build relationships, long term kind of way. I felt it when I first came here, I felt it when I moved here, and it was reaffirmed when I visited the U.S. for Christmas. In my mind, if God was calling me to serve here long term, that meant doing exactly what I'm doing, exactly where I am doing it. But as 2019 has unfolded, God has shown me that a year here is enough. He has another place for me to serve. It wasn't one moment all of a sudden where I heard a loud voice telling me it was time- it was months of little signs, time spent in prayer, time spent in tears, and time spent in silence. And I fought it. I love being here in Morogoro. I love my home and my friends and my kids. My heart wanted to stay here, at times regardless of the obvious signs that were telling me, "No." But the week before our trip, I decided to listen. I informed the pastors that I would not be extending my time, but indeed be leaving in June as originally planned.
Finally making the decision or rather, finally listening to God's guidance, brought me great peace. Much more than I expected to feel. But it also brought out my human fears. If not here, where? Do I go home? Do I stay and try to teach somewhere else? What about money? My resources are depleted. I have to earn money somehow. What about insurance? My medications are all running out. June is just over a month away. How can I find something so quickly? Of course I called my mom and asked her several of these questions to which she responded with her usual, great advice. She told me, "I spend the most time worrying about the things of this world. Money. Jobs. Healthcare. That's what keeps me up at night. And yet those are things that God has shown me over and over again not to worry about." And as usual, she was right.
God has always provided for us. Even when it seems there is no way, he finds a way. That's the power of the resurrection. In a world where it seems nothing can mend our brokenness, God sent his son to mend it all. He was the way where there was no way. It doesn't matter if we practice all the right traditions or sing all the right songs or read all the right bible verses- Jesus is indeed still risen, and through him we have life.
In this week of rest, God has already shown his provision for me. And while I don't know yet exactly what the next six months or year or five years are going to look like, I trust that God will make a way. I ask for your prayers as I discern where God is calling me next and your continued prayers for my community here in Morogoro.
Mungu akubariki,
Allee
If you would like to donate towards my work in Tanzania, you can send donations electronically through the Venmo app.
My username is @Alison-Gomulka.
If you would prefer to send a check, you can mail it to
Alison Gomulka
15601 Shady Brook Lane
College Station, TX
77845
 |
After Easter service pictures with some of my Tanzanian family <3 |
❤
ReplyDelete