Distance Running

One of my joys these past weeks has been the chance to run. I ran around a beautiful lake and beside a forest. I ran along paved streets and easy sidewalks. I even ran down the tree-lined street with my friend Stephanie riding her bike alongside me. But these past weeks, as I enjoyed easy runs and reflected on some of the harder times in my life, I started thinking about how and why I started running. I actually started running twenty-two years ago because I wasn’t acing PE due to low endurance, so my friend dragged me on afterschool runs around our bus stops. I thought I needed to be a distance runner because she was. I dragged my body up hills and on hour-long runs. One summer, I ran twice a day so that I could get 500 miles in before school started up. My life was a constant battle with shin injuries and ankle injuries. I was okay if I put in more effort than most, but it wasn’t easy. Like my body wasn’t made for it.

And then I discovered the quarter mile. I loved the feeling of flying just one lap around the track. And I was good at it. My math teacher introduced ten hurdles into that race, and I was in my element. As a freshman in high school, I went from struggling to be in the school’s top ten to easily winning races for my team. “Most Improved” they awarded me the first year as we won our league and went onto state. But it wasn’t so much that I improved – I had just found my fit. I was a middle-distance runner. I was a hurdler.

I’ve been thinking about good fits this past year. Sometimes I wish I could be a missionary or a doctor like the people I see around me, or the people who came before me. It’s easy for me to do things that most doctors don’t like to do, like research, grant writing, systems-level improvements, and protocols. I get a rush of excitement when looking at statistics and trying to solve problems that arise through numbers. But I don’t get that rush when a patient comes in with a traumatic injury or when I have to make the first cut for a surgery. Other things are harder for me than just work hours and living conditions. It is hard for me to work day after day in a system that is broken, especially a system that wears out its components and shows little promise of improving. Some doctors can persist in any sort of environment as long as they can help one patient a day, or as long as a hospital stays open one more day. But I crave a bigger impact.

I understand that a strong team needs individuals with all kinds of strengths just like a track team needs all types of runners. I know what it feels like to be in a place that is not a good fit. I’ve prayed a lot about wisdom to know what things I can fix and what things cannot be fixed and what to do with myself in between them. I know that I shouldn’t try to fit myself into someone else’s mission or calling. But what is the next step if I know I’m a middle distance runner and I find myself on a cross country team? I could survive for a while, but I couldn’t thrive. I remember the joy of a good fit, and the pain of being in a place where I have to struggle to stay afloat. As long as a potential exists for me to use my talents to help bring healing in a way that fits my mission, I cannot continue struggling to accommodate to a vision that is inconsistent with my values. If there are things I cannot change that are so integral to me that I cannot thrive without them, if I cannot justify changing the parts of myself necessary to fit where I am, then I need to change that. This year is ending, and I think many people are happy to see it go. Nobody knows what the future will hold. But I think I will be striding over some hurdles and embracing whatever changes are necessary to achieve a better ministry fit.

December 2020 Update: A Time to Rest

Merry Christmas! We pray that everyone has been able to find a way to share this time with family and friends. Christina and I are blessed to be able to be near some of our own family as we are back in the states for a little while.

Two weeks of quarantine, or more accurately, two weeks of rest, two weeks of reflecting on the past year and looking forward to the next. That is how we spent the last two weeks at a friend’s house outside of Houston. We originally traveled to Texas for a meeting with our organization, but due to Covid, the meeting was canceled, the necessary talks were instead held over the phone. And so, we found ourselves in Sugarland, with nowhere to be and nothing needing to be done. For the first time in over a year, Christina found herself forced to relax, unable to pick up pieces or solve problems. Since living in Malawi, Christina has become more and more interested in the concept of Sabbath. Of a time of rest, to be able to praise our God, and to think upon who we are and where we belong within His creation. Despite such interest, she is rather bad at the practice of it. She has gotten much better, with usually one day each weekend reserved to just trying to relax, but it is not an easy task for those who are so goal oriented. While we were in Sugarland, relaxing and reflecting seemed to be the only options. Perhaps this is why the last two weeks in Texas felt so unique, and ultimately felt like such a blessing. Near the end of our stay, we were plotting how to miss our plane flight and remain in a safe and comfortable bubble for the foreseeable future.

This last year has been filled with challenges of nearly every type, both before and after we decided to stay in Malawi through the first wave of the pandemic. Now that the second wave is hitting the northern hemisphere, we still have some weeks of furlough left in America. As long as travel remains open, we plan to return to Malawi on Feb 15th, hopefully with some fresh perspectives, renewed energy, and intentional strategies. Before then, we should still have some time to connect with our partners and loved ones over zoom or in person as possible. Let us know if you would like to chat, and please join us in prayer for safety and wisdom in Malawi as decisions are made about covid-19 prevention

Thanks for your prayers and support,

Greg and Christina

Converting Christians

Greg sat on our porch in the mid-afternoon, a pot of tea and generous bowl of sugar between him and the student. This student was in Greg’s Systematic Theology class last semester, but made an appointment to talk with Greg today about Church History. He wanted to see what from the history of Christianity could give insight into life today in Malawi. The conversation led quickly to the age of Constantine, the first Christian Roman Emperor, and how much concepts of Christianity changed when it became the official state religion, when there were incentives to be gained for being a Christian rather than persecution. “It’s a lot like Malawi today” the student observed. “Many people say they are Christians without even knowing what that means.” He estimated that only one out of ten Christian church-goers in Malawi could tell you what it means to be a Christian. In contrast, he said, the majority of Muslims, who make up about 15% of the population, probably have a better idea of what they believe and why.

We tested this theory over the weekend while driving with our Malawian friend, a Christian of 3 years who grew up with a Muslim father. He estimated that about 40% of Christians in Malawi could tell you the Gospel message - that Jesus died to reconcile mankind to God. But only ten percent, he said, live their lives to please God and serve others. People go to church for mostly social reasons, and to absolve themselves of sins committed in the 6 other days of the week. He has noticed that some pastors go into communities largely expecting to be served. A church might give a pastor a chicken or raise funds so he could have a car, but they leave a poor family in their community without food. “For people who already are Christians but not living a life that pleases God,” our friend said, “it is hard to change their minds.” It reminded me of the podcast sermon we listened to last week which shared the conclusion: it is hard to convert Christians to new ways of thinking and service.

Back on the porch, after a discussion about servant leadership and theology, Greg’s student verbalized agreement that pastors should serve their church instead of expecting to be served. “But how do we know how to serve if we don’t see that?” the student asked. For this, Greg had a few examples readily available from Malawian pastors who are really living out lives of service, such as pastors Thoko and Nixon Nzunga, whose stories we share often. Greg shared about how they brought a borehole along with their church, brought food along with their children’s program, and brought businesses and education to their community. They share what they have and bring healing to the whole community rather than living in comfort like chiefs because of their spiritual positions. In Chichewa, the word for pastor is the same word as Shepard, and we can point to some pastors who are really guiding their flocks toward wellness.

It is our prayer that this is only the beginning of finding practical ways to help pastors help their communities through teaching theology and community development. Please pray for us as we try to schedule our first training session with local pastors before we return to the US this year for the holidays.

Thank you for your prayers and support,

Greg and Christina