My Black Stretchy Pants

When I moved to Jamaica to go to Bible School in 2001, you might be surprised to know that Bible College was really not a passion of mine.  My goal was not to live here permanently  it was to get out of -41 degree weather and into a great pair of shorts.  Little did I know that the school didn't permit me to wear even a quarter of my wardrobe.  This was no beach party (someone could have told me.) Knee length skirts and my mothers shirts were pretty much the accepted apparel.  It did not end up mattering anyway as the first semester I put on about 45 pounds and could only fit into one pair of black stretchy pants.  I wore those pants till they cried out for help!  

So much has changed since those first days of hard dough bread, rice and chicken (and lots of it.)  I came and was quickly overwhelmed by all that I saw that I didn't recognize.  I remember the first time I was brought downtown Montego Bay.  Seeing all the street vendors and crowded sidewalks was so different from the streets of cars and snow I left.  Even more so than that was the poverty that I was confronted with for the first time in my life.  I can admit now that I was a pretty typical first world kid.  Poverty hit me in the face and I was about to strike back and save the nation of Jamaica!  I helped in children's homes and gave away my clothes to random people. I guess if they couldn't fit me, it wasn't as noble of a sacrifice.  I made promises to people that I really didn't know how to fulfill.  I was on my way to adopting enough children to fill a 15 passenger van.  My heart was in the right place......my understanding...was not.  

Dwight and I got married 3 and a half years later and I can't count the number of times I gave away all the food in our house and all he came home to was a smiling wife, which apparently isn't as fulfilling as it sounds.  Dwight was so gracious.  He gave me the necessary time to learn without pressuring me. We were apart of opening a soup kitchen and reading program and I continued to give away our food as it was asked of me.  Which turned out to be often. 

Each time it was asked of me to give, I felt a sense of accomplishment to be able to do just that.  Over the years though, the feeling began to evolve in my heart into suspicion as I was lied to over and over.  Then into resentment that no real relationship was developing beyond what I could give.  I didn't know what I was doing wrong.  As I looked around at all those I "helped" I saw that it was producing less fruit then I had hoped.  I began to see the ministry as a bottomless hole, with my efforts having little effect on those around me.   I even began to feel that we might even be compiling the problem by handing out all these material things and creating a culture that was effecting the community to the negative.  

If you live in Jamaica you are all to familiar to the overwhelming need that surrounds us.  For some people it can even become so familiar, it becomes invisible.  That may sound harsh but I believe that it can be a survival tactic.  In fact it became my tactic.  After God moved us on to establish a new ministry in Mandeville, the only thing I took with me was regret, disillusionment and the feeling that I knew a lot less after 3 years in ministry there then when I started.  In order to survive through what felt like a very emotional roller coaster and the hopeless feeling I had, I began to ignore the very purpose I felt I was brought here to be apart of.

11 years later and since planting Generations Church as God had asked us to do, God has taught me so much in regards to how I am to respond to the needs around me. 

1. I am not, nor will I ever come close to being SAVIOR. Sometimes we like to act like it and even enjoy the dependancy.  Of course that is only until we see the depth of the need, know we can't begin to scratch the surface and run like Usain Bolt.  

2.  If my actions, no matter how noble they may look, point to me as the source to meet your needs instead of pointing to God the meeter of all needs, then I'm doing it wrong.  

3.  God wants to show himself to people, he cares about them more then I ever could.  So before you are quick to problem solve, pray. Pray with them.  He wants the opportunity to show people that he truly is the source.  The question to me has often been...."Do I trust him enough to pray, and believe He can and will meet their needs?"

4. Taking the burden off of my shoulders and putting them on God's can prevent the type of nervous breakdown that causes you to see purple and green ducks flying around in your room. 

5. People's needs are more so then not greater then the material things we can provide.    Sometimes it's the easiest thing to just hand out something to someone.  It's a totally different challenge to tell them you will walk with them.  That's why we first have to know our God as provider, we need his wisdom, patience and strength.

I'm not saying not to give to material needs, that's always going to be important. I just feel a lot less frustrated now that I'm pointing to the right source. 

  Now I come back to my black stretchy pants.  There was a time when those pants hung gently off my tiny body.  They were comfy and I wore them mostly to lounge in.  What they thought they were meant for was far different then what they came to be.  Many loaves of dense Hard dough bread later they had to be stretched far past where they were comfortable to meet the real need.  I thought I was meant to meet people's needs, turns out HE is.  Whatever I do, I pray it points that person to HIM.  It's not fun being savior, that's a big lonely cross to fill. Thank God he already did it!!

Shanda the Immigrant

I have spent much of my time in Jamaica being very careful of what I say and how I share my experiences here. I've been reluctant as to not sound over dramatic to my Jamaican friends but then in the same breath not wanting to belittle my experience to my Canadian friends who have no frame of reference.  Just recently I was inspired to just share my thoughts and feelings when I received a letter from a friend that shared stories of her missionary experience with me.  I realized that it's okay that I feel these things and it's okay that I'm not fully Jamaican or even fully Canadian anymore.  I see life as both.

I remember the first time I went to Immigration to get permission to stay on the island long term.  I had just got married and therefore had full right to call Jamaica home.  After filling out some paper work, handing in my passport, it was done.  With a stamp my title here changed from "visitor" to "Landed Immigrant."  I never thought I would be an Immigrant.  It is kind of an "in" but not "of" title.  Like, we are letting you stay here, even though you belong somewhere else.

I've gone through my phases since being an "immigrant."  Phase one: Bewilderment of the culture.  Phase two: Loving the novelty of the culture.  Phase three: Confusion and frustration with the culture.  Phase four: Resentment of the culture.  Phase five:  Missing my culture.  Phase six: Acceptance of the culture.  Phase seven: Be the Culture.  Phase eight: Accepting that you will never be the culture but willing to submit to the culture to save your own sanity!!

Jamaica has changed me and I would say for the better in most ways.  I do feel like I really don't put expectations on anything anymore.  I mean, it will get done when it gets done and everyone will accept that it's not done.  There are things that I have got used to in Jamaica that I don't think I would want to change anymore.  One of them being the sense of community I feel here.  We have an amazing church and they are identified by their hospitality.  There is this open door feeling and I know I'm welcome into their lives as I hope they know they are welcome into mine.

Somethings I miss are simple:  I miss the general feeling of safety.  I know crime happens in Canada but it seems like death, corruption and violence are apart of the everyday life here.  If it's not happening to you, then it's happening around you or you can't help but hear of the latest on the street.   I have witnessed murders, I've seen dead people, I've been robbed by gun point, had our home and church robbed and I've witnessed corruption.  Those things have changed me also.  Yes, my desire for justice has increased but a side effect has been the toll it has taken on my thought life.  I didn't realize how much it had effected me until I went back to Canada last October.  I had gone to Starbucks to spend some time alone, reading and drinking a coffee.  I found a perfect seat by the window just before a huge rush of people came in.  It was packed in what seemed like seconds.  A man came and sat on the other side of the window outside.  I noticed him glancing in my direction several times.  I began to feel really uncomfortable, and then I felt my heart start beating out of my chest as my safety radar was going off.  Was he going to rob me, or worse, abduct me as I was going to my car??   I knew I had to get out of there.  As he was turned around, I quickly packed up my stuff, put on my coat as smooth and quick as any ninja would and I jetted out the side door running with all I had to my car.  I had already pressed the unlock key, got in and quickly locked the doors. I peered back at the place of my torture, and saw the man swiftly get up, run inside and steal my chair.  Yup, he wanted my seat!

I think I have had a severe reaction to all I have seen happen in Jamaica.  Jamaicans seem to be quite calm and collected about all that goes on around them.  They can decipher when they are in trouble and when they have to use wisdom from when they are safe.  I don't have these skills.  I have gone from a place in Canada where I don't have to lock my house doors to where I am barred in to a house with bolts and gates.  I guess I don't know where to draw the line.    I do miss the safety of my childhood, and even more I ache that my daughter won't see life the same way I did as a child.  That she probably won't ride her bike up and down the street to a neighbourhood friend.  Or that it is likely she will be confronted with the horrible things that human beings do to each other on a more regular basis.  On the other hand she will experience many more days playing on a beach.  She will also grow up with a great sense of community and belonging.  And we will prepare ourselves the best that we can to answer all her questions.

This brings me back to my friends letter:  One realization they came to as a couple was that the only safe place for us is heaven.  We can't be overcome by fear here on earth, we keep moving, living and pursuing the people that God loves so much.  We serve them, love them, give to them and that is our calling until our last breath here.  The amazing truth is that THIS IS NOT IT!!  One day we will see justice brought to this earth and it will be complete.  But we can't expect to always see it here.

Oh, and the second safest place for us, is right where God asked us to be.

My Beef with Facebook

I have been thinking about starting a blog for quite sometime.  I just had to sort through some personal issues I have with sharing information about myself.  I struggle with not wanting to be too shallow and on the other hand I don't want the masses to know too much.  I feel like a blog might be a way for me to share a little bit about my life but I can proof read before hitting the "publish" button.


The title of my first entry is a little deceiving because this is a lot more about my own feelings then it is about my dislike for Facebook.  In November of 2011 I went off Facebook because I felt like it was distracting me from more important tasks in my day.  It was only after going off that I realized the tremendous pressure that Facebook brought into my life.  I know that sounds a wee dramatic but I had this amazing sense of relief when I no longer had to keep track of the masses.  Let me explain.


When I was 18......11 years ago now, I moved to Jamaica which would have been roughly the 20th move in my life.  I came to Montego Bay to go to Bible College for what I believed to be a 4 month adventure and my beginning to tour the huge world we live in.  I didn't know at the time it was my stop.  I met my husband, and we got married almost 4 years later.  This was it, we felt like God had called us to stay on this tiny island.  I had no consistent access to my life back home.  I would pay to sit at stuffy internet cafe's with dial up slower then we can now fathom.  There were times I could afford half an hour and I spent most of that time watching the word "loading" on the screen.  It just was not a very effecient use of my time or money.  I slowly felt like I lost touch with people that mattered so much to me.  


In January 2006, Dwight and I moved to a bigger community, which seemed like metropolis in comparison the fishing village we were living in before.  Mandeville was going to be the place I finally settled down.  I knew it.  I asked God for it.  I needed a home.  We finally got internet and one day in 2007 someone told me of this amazing thing called Facebook.  I signed my life away and within days I realized the trail of relationships I had left behind.  It was incredible to come on every morning and see that someone else had found me on my island!!  Friends from Chilliwack B.C, where I spent my childhood years.  Friends from Princeton and Eckville, Red Deer and Springbrook!  Simply amazing.


Anyway I don't want to drag this out but over the years on Facebook I started to see that I was incapable of maintaining all these relationships.  I would get messages and have time just to read them before I would have to sign off and go on with life here.  I learned people don't like it when you don't reply. I have come to terms with the fact that I am an inadequate Facebook friend.  


Another reason for that great sense of releif after quitting was that it was hard for me to see life unfold in Canada and know I was missing it.  My family, my nieces and nephews, my friends having babies, or getting married.  Pictures of kids playing in parks where people don't poop in the tunnel or steal the swings.  I know that's not my life anymore but I still miss it.  As much as I thank God everyday for all he has blessed me with, there is still apart of me that is simply Canadian and there are days where I wonder what my life would be like there.  I want to be where God wants me to be and I have peace knowing that I am.  It doesn't make it easy.  


I'm writing this blog so I can share with others both near and far, a little about my life.