Tag: Partnership

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Creativity and the Water Jug Car

Lisa Brodie

I can’t tell you the number of times I have heard someone say, “I am not creative.”  I have never really thought about it, but rather just accepted what they were saying. Most people use the phrase in the context of decorating or crafts.  They somehow have gotten it into their brains that they “can’t” create.  And now, they speak it over and over as their accepted lot in life. I never hear any of my African friends say things like this about themselves.  Quite honestly, I have never heard them criticize themselves or anyone else for that matter.  Maybe I miss it since I am not a fluent in Swahili.  Or maybe they just don’t do it?

Guess what I have seen over and over in Africa: CREATIVITY!

  • I have watched women creatively carry multiple items balanced on their heads while carrying babies on their backs.
  • I have seen them use an old soda bottle to store their “fresh from the hive” honey. I have seen old burlap bags used for corn or rice become carrying pouches.
  • I have read of a young boy using discarded scrap metal to create a windmill to power things in his mud hut home.
  • And, I have watched children create little cardboard toy cars and trucks made from old boxes and pulled by scrap string.  With lids from soda bottles as wheels and miniature front axels that turn, their handmade toys entertain.

 

When describing my African friends, “resourceful and creative” are always part of my description.  I have seen it and I know that  they aremade in His image.  Creativity is part of who He is.  Creativity is part of who they are.  And if WE could put aside the lies of the enemy, and go back to the beginning, to who WE were created to be, I am certain a “creative” mind is something that was there at the start.

Resourcefulness often stems from necessity, perhaps handed down from generation to generation.  Maybe even inspired by dreams.  But whatever the beginning, creativity seems to stay with them.  Pablo Picaso said, “Every child is an artist.  The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.” One could almost make that quote fit in this situation by changing a few words: “Everyone is born creative.  The problem is how to remain that way once he grows up.”

Genesis 1:27 “God created mankind in his own image.”

You were made like HIM!  As you go through today, keep that in mind.

Create!

Be creative at work.

Be creative at home.

Be creative with your friends.

 

 

And remember that it is in His likeness that you were created by HIM with the gift of CREATIVITY!

 

—Lisa Brodie

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Mountain of Laundry

Lisa Brodie

Often as I was in the midst of raising 5 young children, the dirty clothes would become a looming impenetrable mountain in my laundry room. Seriously, if I let it get away from me, meaning: “didn’t wash clothes every single day,” there could be laundry a foot deep that I had to maneuver my way through just to get to the washing machine. So many tears…. My tears.  Crying to my husband about how terrible it was that laundry was consuming my entire life.  The struggle was real.  One day, he surprised me with the latest and greatest (and BIGGEST) washing machine and dryer ever made.  These newest appliances were going to save my life. Or at least my sanity.  Or my husband’s sanity.  I literally could dump an entire large basket in and wash.

It was amazing.

For a while.

Those latest and greatest (and bought pre-“DaveRamsey,” I might add) actually weren’t all that great when it came to being dependable.  The washer stopped working right after our warranty ran out.  If we had only been sane enough to read the reviews prior to purchase, we would have seen that every single owner hated those machines with a passion.

However, I learned some great lessons from that season so, I will look on the bright side and share them so that no one has to learn them the hard way like I did.

  • First, I should have been grateful for my five kids and their mountain of laundry because there are many women who are praying in earnest for children.
  • Second, we really didn’t need all of those clothes and some of those clothes weren’t dirty, just worn.  They should have been put back in the closets and drawers.
  • Third, don’t put anything on credit.  If you can’t pay cash for it, you don’t need it. #DaveRamseyRuinedMyLife #JustKidding #DaveRamseyRocks #FPU
  • Finally, there are mamas around the world who walk hours and hours carrying their families’ clothing, to get to a place to do laundry in dirty contaminated water.  Most will fetch water in a bucket from a water source that is murky and shared with the local animals.  These mamas then scrub every piece by hand and lay it over a bush or in a tree to dry. After drying each piece in the African sun, they fold it all and carry it back home.

And I whined about my laundry.

I read a book a few years ago that changed my outlook on my life.  One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voscamp challenged me to look at everything, especially the small things, as “gifts.” She encouraged readers to see the gift of the simple.  She challenged readers to embrace the season they are in.  Love the moment.  Find joy in the journey.  She taught me and millions like me, to be thankful.  As Paul writes in Philippians, “I have learned to be content in whatever the circumstances” (Phil 4:11) we also should have the desire for contentment. David calls us to “Enter His gates with thanksgiving in our hearts” (Psalm 100:4).  We can find similar words throughout the Bible.  But why?  As I learned from “One Thousand Gifts,” if our hearts are focused on our blessings, we will find that sadness, discontentment, depression, jealousy, etc will have no place in our lives.

While I believe that everyone would benefit from making a list of one thousand gifts, I know the idea could seem daunting.  So, today, I encourage you to simply find ten things God has blessed you with and focus on them.  Write them down.  Put the list somewhere you can see over and over.  Thank God for those things. In doing so, you will find “gifts” in the most unlikely places and joy in your journey.

 

–Lisa Brodie

 

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Respect

Lisa Brodie

Respect for the elders

respect: verb; to admire someone or something deeply as a result of their abilities, qualities or achievements.

I have noticed a beautiful thing in Africa:  respect for the elders.  Subtle, yet obvious to those from the outside.

There is a quiet order to things.

The younger submits to the older.

Respect comes with age.

 

And yet with that respect comes responsibility.

The elders are expected to be wise peacemakers and problem solvers within their community.

I witnessed the depth of the respect for the first time, within the Maasai tribe.  When the children approached someone older, respectfully, the children bowed their heads toward them.  The elder would then place their hand on the head of the child. It was explained that this is an act of honor.  Toddlers who could not yet speak would wobble over and silently bow their head toward those who are older. This custom continues as the children grow when the phrase “Shikamo” (shee-kah-mo) is spoken by the younger person, meaning, “I respect you.  I honor you.  I acknowledge your rank.”  And likewise the older returns with the phrase, “Marahaba” (mah-rah-ha-ba) meaning “I accept your greeting of honor and welcome you.”  It is culture.  It is what is done.

In my travels, I use this respectful greeting phrase often.  I love their quiet order of things and have seen the joy and surprise in their faces when a Mzungu (white person) attempts to speak their language and to give honor to those who are older.  It is a wonderful experience to see communities respectfully raise their children together.  Watching over all children as if each child belongs to them personally.  Teaching, training, correcting when needed.  I have seen grandparents snap their fingers and little ones (sometimes related, sometimes not) immediately behave with no questions asked.

The term “old” carries the meaning of respected leader, wise one, honored one, etc.  It is acceptable and common to call an older man “Mzee” (Mm-zay) which literally translated means “Old Man” and just as common to speak to an older woman calling her “Bibi” (Bee-bee) or “Coco” (Ko-ko) which both mean “grandmother.”  There is no offense.  It is not an insult, but a sweet acknowledgement of who they are.

Respect carries past the greetings and is seen in actions.  If an older person enters an area where people are already seated, the younger ones get up quickly and offer their seats.  The older are always served meals first and when an elder speaks, everyone is silent and listens intently.  I once saw an entire village erupt in cheers of joy when an older man in their community was given a sleeping bag and thin cushioned mat to sleep on. Full understanding of that small gift to him did not come until their reaction to the gift was witnessed.   The gift meant the grandfather would no longer be sleeping on a thin woven grass mat laid out on the hard dirt floor of his simple mud hut.

We can learn a lot from our friends in Africa.  It would be wise to take note of this attribute of showing respect.  Our children could benefit greatly if we could teach them to do this well.  Proverbs 16:31 says, “Gray hair is a crown of splendor.”  Let’s make it our goal to truly believe that and to pass that gift on.

—Lisa

 

Africa Stories

Mama Played Kickball That Day

Lisa Brodie

It was a fun game. We wanted the kids to relax around us. To accept us.  (Rumors had been spread by the local witchdoctors that “the Americans were coming to poison the people of the community.”)  Everyone was a little tense, to say the least.

Normally, our team would have been met with smiles, double handed waves and jubilant singing.  This time, no one was around except for a few children.  We pulled out an oversized yellow kickball and coerced some brave nearby souls to join us.   They looked as though they feared for their lives by the way most were hiding among the acacia trees watching from afar.

 

 

A young mama was passing by dressed in her beautifully sewn wax cloth printed top and matching skirt.  Her skirt, of course, was covered modestly with a kanga fabric wrap to protect it from her normal day to day chores.  And even though neither her outfit nor wrap had a hint of pink in them, her slip on dress shoes were the brightest, most beautiful shade of pink. She could not understand a word of the English we were speaking to the children, and yet, she did understand.  Suddenly, much to the surprise of everyone, Mama kicked off her shoes and placed them along with her bag in the hands of her young son.

 

 

Mama jumped right in on that kickball game.  She played.  She kicked.  She pitched.  She even called others to come play too.

 

Mama played kickball that day.  Probably her first time.  Maybe her only time.  She seized the moment.  She didn’t think twice.  She was all in.

 

How often do we get chances to do something wonderful and yet we hold back?

“I am not dressed right.”

“I don’t know how.”

“What will people think?”

“I will look ridiculous.”

“I am not smart enough.”

 

Those voices.  Those words.

 

It is time you kick off your dress shoes and “play.”  Don’t listen to the lies of the enemy keeping you out of the game.  Listen to the One who said, “I have come to give YOU life.  Life to the fullest.”  John 10:10

 

Blessings — Lisa

 

Africa Stories

They Welcomed Us With Singing

Lisa Brodie

I had gone to Africa for 3 summers before my husband finally made the trip with me in 2010.  Up until that point, Africa, was my “thing.”  Don’t get me wrong.  I had his complete blessing to “go.”  He always worked it out so that he was able to care for our five children while I was away.  That task was not easy considering that our youngest children, twin girls, were only three at the time of my first trip.

The summer of 2009 was different.  After three years of going to Africa, praying and crying out for God to show me what I was supposed to do, I finally gave in to that “still small voice” beckoning me to embark on this adventure with Him.  After that third trip, I prayed for God to either take away the passion that He had placed in my heart or implant it deep within my husband.  I knew that God would not call one of us, but both of us.

By August of 2009, it was obvious that God was moving us to start our own nonprofit organization.  God opened every single door that we needed to walk through.  Every time I stated that we needed something, He immediately provided for it.  The only thing I can think of to describe that season is, it was as if He was placing stepping stones directly in front of me to show me exactly where to go.  My husband had come on board wholeheartedly and by Christmas break of that year, I overheard him sharing the dream with someone saying, “WE are starting a nonprofit to do water projects in Africa.”

By the spring of 2010, it became apparent that we were going to have enough money to start our first project.  We decided that four of the seven people in our family would be going on that first trip.  My husband, two sons (ages 16 and 13) and I would be traveling with some close friends on our first water project trip.  I was nervous, excited, somewhat overwhelmed, but most of the time filled with sheer joy that some of “my people” were finally going with me.  It was time for them to experience Africa.

The village was chosen.

The project funds were being raised rather quickly.

The team had come together.

It was time.

After several long exhausting flights and nearly 3 days of travel, my guys were in Africa!!  An overnight stay in a modest hotel in the city was refreshing. Travel out to the village was around 6 hours.  Tarmac roads turned to dusty gravel roads and finally to rocky areas that looked like something I had seen once in Colorado.  The mountainous terrain resembled another planet.  The boulders we had to drive over meant we often had to get out and walk so that our weight didn’t cause the bus to drag.

When we arrived at the village, a group of 40-50 villagers ran up to the bus singing, dancing and welcoming us.   It surely sounded like angels.  Women dressed in an assortment of bright colored floral prints with matching cloth wrapped around their heads framed their smiling faces.  Each one of them greeted us with a strong hug or a kiss on the cheek and the typical women’s sound of rejoicing that is difficult to explain.  It is the way the women show their happiness or the way they cheer when something good happens.  It sounds something like “ye, ye, ye, ye, ye.”  But even seeing that typed out looks ridiculous.  Just ask anyone who is from East Central Africa or anyone who has visited there to demonstrate that sound.  They will know what I am talking about.

The group started forming a line and motioning for us to follow them.  With their choruses of singing, we marched toward a half finished building made of handmade brick.   The building had the beginning of slots for windows with simple rough openings for doors.  No roof, only hand hewn wood beams where metal might someday sit.  It was a work in progress.  As soon as we entered, it was obvious that it was the beginning of a church building.  The floor was made of dirt and rocks.  Small smooth hand cut logs made benches for seating and some of the locals had brought plastic chairs from their homes for extra seating.  Plastic chairs set up front for us.  We were honored guests.

 

What seemed to be the whole village and even some from neighboring areas had gathered to welcome us.  Singing choruses learned from their grandparents, who also had learned from their grandparents they moved in rhythmic dances that gave meaning to the songs.  As I looked at our team, our “first” team, my heart was overflowing.  Each of them had smiles as they clapped their hands to the beat of the African drum and wiped tears away as they stood together in awe.  I looked around the room and saw my husband wiping his own tears away.   You see, the songs were about how thankful they were.  The songs glorified God.  The songs asked God for blessing… not for themselves, but for us.  They waved their hands as if they were throwing something on us.  It was symbolic of the blessings that they were asking God for us.  With song and with motions, they were heaping blessings on our team.

Even today, the memory of this time brings sweet joy to my heart.  I have so many more details in my mind than I can put into words.

That day, we became one with them as they welcomed us with singing.

–Lisa Brodie

Founder/CEO Maji Hope