Our Last Blog Post

So much has happened since I last posted. January and February were a whirlwind of joy and sadness. We overcame a weeklong flu and a secondary chest infection. We sold, packed, gave away, or tossed all of our possessions in Tanzania. We welcomed a team from St. John in Cypress, TX for the opening of the new Mwanza Lutheran Secondary School. We celebrated all that God has accomplished during our time in Tanzania. We shed many tears as we said goodbye to precious friends. We flew 30+ hours back to the U.S. We surprised my dad for his birthday with a layover in Dallas and then continued on to St. Louis.

Less than a week after we arrived, everything began to shut down. I also came down with bronchitis, and we played the game, “Is it COVID-19 or not?” Thankfully, it was not. However, now we do wish we had some of those antibodies. Instead of traveling to all of our partner churches, we spent 10+ weeks living with Eric’s parents while Eric waited for school districts to interview him via Zoom and while we found a rental home in Dallas via virtual tour. In May, we loaded up a U-pack trailer, moved down to Texas, completely repainted the five previously pink rooms and all of the ceilings in our new rental home. As we were unloading, we realized that the garage conversion room, i.e. our playroom where our pantry and two other main closets were located, wreaked of cat pee. It took six weeks of trying various remedies for us to realize that the cat pee was in the walls. Six inches of the wall had to be removed and replaced around the base of the room. Once the floors were treated and the carpet replaced, we could finally begin to fully unpack.

We’ve had many adventures since moving to Texas, some fun and some not so fun--- breaking my baby toe as I tried to maneuver around boxes and tripped on the couch, participating in at-home Vacation Bible School with our kids, camping with my parents several times, enduring the most painful case of chiggers of my life (over 130 bites), teaching our kids to swim at a friend’s pool, celebrating our kids’ first 4^th of July as American citizens, persevering through the entire driver education process again since my license expired while I was in Tanzania, changing many of our habits and food preferences as we are being treated for parasites, sorting through the many boxes that had been stored for us in Eric’s parents’ basement, and Eric beginning a new job at North Garland High School while I help Michael and Julia adjust to online school.

This year is not conducive to closure, but we are trying. We put together one last presentation that friends, family, and supporters could view on YouTube. (If you haven't seen it yet, click here.) We held 14 separate Zoom calls so that we could reconnect with members of our partner churches. (Thank you to all who participated! It meant so much to us.) On July 13-17, we attended an online debriefing retreat through Train International. We are so thankful we had that opportunity to talk with other returning missionaries and to process all that we had been through. Even in the best of times, reverse culture shock and creating a new sense of home is tremendously difficult. We realized through this retreat that we are grieving losses on four levels---

1. We are grieving the loss of our home, work, and community in Tanzania. I spoke at length about that in a previous post. What I failed to realize previously is that many of our family norms were about to change. In Tanzania, Eric and I were partners in ministry. Our friend group was the same. I could call him throughout the day when he wasn’t in class. Sometimes he would come home for lunch or we would go up to school. Now I miss my best friend as he is busy teaching, and the kids and I are home without the company of neighbors who were always eager to interact with our family.
2. We are grieving the loss of moments with family and friends in the U.S. while we were serving in Tanzania. For example, my parents’ home has numerous pictures of family events for which we were not present.  Likewise, my grandmother passed away while we were living in Tanzania, so a fresh wave of grief is hitting as I sort through the items she left for me. Furthermore, relationships have changed while we were away, and we are in many ways trying to figure out what relationships with American family and friends look like when we are not an ocean away.
3. We, like all of you, are grieving the loss of dreams and expectations thanks to COVID-19. We and our children had built up a storehouse of dreams for what life would look like once we moved back to the U.S. Very few of those dreams have become reality, and we are figuring out how to adjust our expectations. For example, we initially planned that I would get a part-time job while our kids attend school in-person. For now, that dream has been put on the back-burner while our kids attend school online.
4. We are grieving the changes that have taken place since we last lived in the U.S. The partisanship, racial injustice, and general ugliness we see regularly as the U.S. approaches an election has made it particularly hard to bring our family here.

The leaders of the retreat normalized so much of what we have been experiencing. They shared that on average it takes missionaries 1-2 years (not months-- years) to establish a new rhythm, a new sense of purpose, and a new sense of community. They shared that if we don’t process these feelings now, we will miss out on all that God can teach us through it and we will inevitably see the effects of unresolved grief later. During the retreat we talked about what we control, what we influence, and what areas of concern we need to simply hand over to God. They helped us to recognize and embrace the paradoxes in our stories. They helped us to articulate our expectations, others’ expectations of us, and God’s expectations (hint: they aren’t the same). We identified the different types of transitions in our lives: anticipated, unanticipated, nonevent (meaning what we expected to happen didn’t) and sleeper (meaning we weren’t even aware of the transition because it happened so gradually). We celebrated all that we have gained and learned during these years of ministry. We talked about ways to cope with stress, how to maintain resilience and spiritual vitality, and how to forgive both ourselves and others. We drew pictures, told stories, meditated on Scripture, prayed for each other, and made new friends. I highly recommend this retreat to any returning missionaries or missionaries in the U.S. for furlough/home service.

We are still very much in the process of transition, both emotionally and practically. We are still trying to sort out our finances, insurance, medical providers, local bank, local activities, and weekly rhythm. We still need to fill out all the paperwork for our kids’ social security cards, Eric’s Texas driver’s license, our last U.S. social worker’s report for our kids’ adoption, state recognition of our kids’ adoption, our kids’ passports, a second car, my social work license, our will, and transfer of medical records. We are still trying to figure out ways for our kids to make friends, while not endangering family members with underlying health conditions. We are still sorting through boxes and organizing closets and drawers. This transition is definitely a marathon-- not a sprint-- with added hurdles related to COVID-19.

Yet, during our retreat we were reminded of this beautiful passage from Jeremiah 6:16.

“Stand at the crossroads and look;

Ask for the ancient paths,

Ask where the good way is, and walk in it,

And you will find rest for your souls.”

We will continue to take each step one at a time. We will continue to stand, to pause, to abide at the crossroads. We will continue to look to Jesus and recall that we are not the first to experience the stress and pain of transition. We will continue to seek out the good way and walk in it, knowing that in all things God will not abandon us. And Lord-willing and by His grace alone, we will find rest for our souls.

The Long Goodbye

Multiple people have asked us recently if we are excited about moving back to the U.S. It is a difficult question for us. Yes, there are aspects of moving back to the U.S. that we are excited about—primarily thoughts of making memories with friends and family there. However, it’s hard to get excited about a new ministry when we don’t have jobs yet. It’s hard to get excited about a new home when we have no idea what that home will look like. So much of our future is still hidden from our vision, and we are simply walking in faith that God will be with us in our next season of life.

Right now, in this season, we have spurts of excitement, but excitement is not the primary feeling. This is a season of grief for us, and that is as it should be. We need to live into this grief in order to be ready for the next season. There will be a time for joyous “hellos,” but first we must walk through our time of “goodbyes.” Tanzania and the friends we have made here mean so incredibly much to us. Eric and I have spent all but one year of our marriage here. These years have formed us and (by God’s grace) strengthened our bond as a couple. Together we turned a dilapidated shell of a house into a home.

Over time, we developed deep, lasting friendships with many people here. We have had the best neighbors these past seven years, the kinds of people that make you want to leave a gap in your fence so that you can more easily talk to them in the backyard, the kinds of people whom you ask when you need a few cups of flour or who come to your house when they need a few tomatoes or a carrot, the kinds of people with whom you celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, and Christmas. The growth of their children has marked our time here. The three-year-old is now ten. We will miss watching them grow, having them over for Christmas cookie and Easter egg decorating, hearing their laughter as they swing in the hammock and play soccer in our backyard.

We have friends here, both Tanzanians and expats alike, who welcomed us as family, who encouraged us when we came to them in tears, who checked on us when we were sick, who brought us vegetables from their gardens, who invited us into their homes, who fed us delicious meals, who prayed with us during each step of our adoption process, who laughed with us, who advised us, who interpreted for us, who helped us better understand Tanzanian culture, and who welcomed and loved our kids as if they were their own kids. We hope and plan to see many of these friends in future visits back to Tanzania. However, I know from my past experience of leaving beloved people in Papua New Guinea that sometimes when you say, “see you later,” later actually means heaven.

We have loved walking around small-town Mwadui, greeting people from our church and Bible study as they pass on the streets. While there have been challenges and times of significant discouragement and burnout, overall we have loved our ministries here. We have felt a deep sense of purpose and have seen God guide our ministries in unexpected directions. Over time, this ministry has become my dream job—what I aimed for when I started my Master of Social Work degree in international development. I wanted to be able to connect needs and resources in meaningful ways, to build bridges of communication between countries and cultures, and to serve people both individually and as a community. I feel like we have done exactly that. We are leaving the many aspects of our ministry in very capable hands, and for that we praise God. Yet, we still grieve that we will not be as involved going forward, that we will not be present to personally witness the growth in all that God has planted.

We brought each of our children home to this house. This is the place where we became parents.  This is a place where Michael and Julia felt safe and loved. They, too, are grieving the loss of this place. Julia has cried at the thought of not sleeping in her bed again, even though she knows that she will have a new bed and we will still be there for her when nightmares come. We cannot bring all of our children’s cherished belongings with us. We will sell the little kitchen set that Eric designed and we hand-painted for nights leading up to Christmas 2017. We pray that it will be a blessing to a new family. The kids’ Lego table that we had custom built for them will also be enjoyed by a new family. Our rocking chair—a spot for reading, singing, and play during the day, a place for cuddles and prayers in the evening, and a source of comfort for our crying babies in the night—that too will bless another home. We will soon sort through our children's toys and books and determine what items will fit into the number of suitcases we have available to us.

This season of grief actually started two years ago, when we first made the decision to pursue the I-600 route to getting U.S. citizenship for our children. Once we made that decision, we knew our time in Tanzania was coming to a close. At first only our families, the leaders of Global Lutheran Outreach, Bishop Makala, and our headmaster Rev. Nzelu knew about our plans. A new level of grief hit as we had to tell our partner churches this past fall, “We are moving back to the U.S.” Every time we said it out loud, there were at least a few shocked and saddened faces in front of us, sometimes accompanied by a small gasp. They have seen the value of our ministry and our love for the people here, and they have joyfully partnered with this ministry. Once we returned to Tanzania, we were faced with an even harder task. Over the next nine months we gradually shared our plans with our community. First, we told our closest friends in over a dozen different personal conversations. Sometimes these conversations included tears. They love us and understand our reasons, but the news also brings them pain. Then the news was shared with the school board in April. Thankfully by then we knew that Cheryl Kruckemeyer would be coming to teach, so our news was tempered by news of a new missionary who will be bringing new skills and passion to work at the school. Then, we started making broader announcements—to our colleagues at school, to our church, to our Facebook community, to our students. In each setting, people were surprised and supportive and sad.

Around Easter, holidays became bittersweet. We began the time of “lasts.” When we gathered together for celebrations, at least one friend always mentioned how much they will miss us at future celebrations. We made plans to show our children more of the beauty of their home country before they travel with us to live in a new country. We traveled to the Serengeti and to Zanzibar, determined to give our children some “firsts” in the middle of this season of lasts.

Grief is funny, because it hits at the oddest moments and in the oddest ways. For example, as we were preparing our house for Cheryl’s first visit to Tanzania, I cleaned and organized at a fevered pace. As we got in the car to travel to Mwanza to pick her up at the airport, the tears came. I realized that my frenzy was due to wanting everything to be perfect for her, wanting her to love this house and this place as much as we do, wanting her to feel at home, and realizing that our time in this house was coming to an end. Likewise, grief sneaks up on us. We can be sitting in church, laughing and clapping along as leaders surprise Evangelist Stanley Dodonda with a cake for his birthday, and then suddenly I look around the room and tears fill my eyes. I am surrounded by people I love and people I will miss.

We are still about seven weeks from departure. There are many more joys to share, memories to make, and tears to cry. Even once we return to the U.S., our re-entry will be a time of joy and sadness. We will visit each of our partner churches one more time, seeing and thanking people who have prayed for us, encouraged us, and supported this ministry for seven amazing years. We will say goodbye to them as well, because we don’t yet know when we will next attend worship at each of these churches. In July we will attend a missionary debriefing retreat put on by Train International. This retreat will help us cope with any reverse culture shock. I know from my past experience of leaving Papua New Guinea, reverse culture shock can be even harder to manage than culture shock. In August I will write our last newsletter—our 101st newsletter since beginning this chapter of our lives—and we will begin new jobs. Our children will start attending school. We will gradually settle into life in the U.S. and start building new dreams and making new memories. As the movie Inside Out so beautifully illustrates, Joy and Sadness are friends. Both can be part of our experience at the same time.

Please be patient with us. This is a big transition. Yet, we know that transitions are fertile fields for growth and that God is going to amaze us with how He brings the right people, jobs, and home into our lives at the right time. We so appreciate all of your prayers and love as we move forward.

Kid-friendly Restaurants in Dar Es Salaam With Playgrounds

While waiting for some of our children’s immigration documents, we spent almost 3 weeks in Dar Es Salaam in October 2019. Since we were staying in Airbnb’s in the Upanga area, our kids (ages 4 & 5) needed places where they could run, jump, climb, and get their energy out. Therefore, we usually went to one restaurant a day with a playground. Often during our trips to Dar, I wished that there was a good list of restaurants with playgrounds. Since I never did find a list like that, I decided to make one for other parents. Here are our recommendations for playgrounds in Dar Es Salaam. Be sure to check hours for each restaurant because several of them close for the afternoon and reopen for the evening.

• Central Park Cafe—A lovely atmosphere with an indoor and outdoor play areas. This was close to where we were staying in Upanga and was one of our favorite places to eat. The outdoor playground is free with a food or drink order. The indoor play area costs 10,000TSH per kid. It is not open on Mondays.
• Gaming Zone, City Mall 3rd floor— Indoor play area which is great for rainy days. Under 3 years old costs 5,000TSH and 4+ years old costs 10,000TSH. You can order food at the Red Onion next door and have them inform you when it is ready. Be sure to tell them if you don’t want the food spicy. There are also other restaurants on that floor of the mall, including a gelato shop.
• Flames—Wonderful Indian food. This was one of our favorite outdoor playgrounds, because they have playground attendants to help keep kids safe. This meant that our kids could go play while we enjoyed a mini-date.
• Zuane—Delicious Italian food with an outdoor playground and fenced area for kicking balls around. It is closed on Sundays.
• Bella Napoli—Another delicious Italian restaurant with a small outdoor playground that is perfect for little kids. They also have playground attendants and an indoor room off to the right with books and toys. It is closed on Tuesdays.
• Marrybrown—This is a fast-food restaurant (similar to McDonalds) with a covered outdoor playground.
• Epi d’or— A wonderful Mediterranean/Lebanese cafe and bakery with an outdoor playground. They have lots of options on the menu.
• Slipway— There are many pricey but delicious restaurants at Slipway, including Thai food, seafood, and a gelato place. In the evenings they open the outdoor playground and have playground attendants. The playground costs 5,000TSH per child.

If you ever want to order-in food, the Jumia Food app is wonderful. It provides a list of available restaurants in the area and a driver will pick it up and deliver your order for a very small fee.

If you are looking for a family-friendly AirBnB around Upanga, here are some we have tried in the past few years and enjoyed.
• My home your home @United Nations Rd
• Elegant Condo
• Stunning penthouse with Sea view (You can also get a single room in this apartment for cheaper. The room sleeps 2 adults and one child, but we brought a cot for our other child to save on costs).

If you are looking for a safe and reliable taxi driver, Felix (+255 774 333 309) is wonderful. If he ever can’t pick you up, he will arrange for his friend Jovin to drive you. Jovin is also a great driver.