I could describe our week at the conference in Natitingou in two very different ways.
I could tell you how the four of us shared a small room with a thin plastic mat over a concrete floor, where the only furniture was three mattresses in a row, a camping table, a row of hooks and a cord to hang up towels. Our nearest water source was a standpipe a few metres from our door, and the washroom down the hill had longdrop toilets and cold-water showers. I could describe exactly how many times we were woken each night by one or both of our boys, or our neighbours' door, or the guard dog growling at our door! I could also share with you how hard it is to entertain small children when it pours with rain all day and there is nowhere really set aside for them.
BUT by now you might be feeling sorry for us, so I'd also like to give you another version, equally true...
I could tell you about the hilltop retreat centre which looks like something out of another, enchanted world. Everyone sleeps in little African huts, surrounded by pebbled paths and brightly coloured flower beds. The water is pumped up from deep within the hill, so it can be drunk straight from taps instead of needing to be filtered. Meetings take place in a central, round, open-air hut with a thatched roof. On sunny days small children can play on the rocks by the meeting place, or can go and see the sheep, ducks, monkeys, cats and dogs that live at the centre. I could tell you about the hospitality of a family who invited parents and small children for breakfast every morning, in a hobbit house where all the walls curved and the doorways were arched, and the dining table was a slab of rock. I could also tell you about the richness of the training we received and the joy of new friendships and deep fellowship. Taizé chants and Communion on a warm evening, discussions on language learning and African culture, delicious Beninese food, chats about the trials of coping with toddler tantrums...
I could tell you how the four of us shared a small room with a thin plastic mat over a concrete floor, where the only furniture was three mattresses in a row, a camping table, a row of hooks and a cord to hang up towels. Our nearest water source was a standpipe a few metres from our door, and the washroom down the hill had longdrop toilets and cold-water showers. I could describe exactly how many times we were woken each night by one or both of our boys, or our neighbours' door, or the guard dog growling at our door! I could also share with you how hard it is to entertain small children when it pours with rain all day and there is nowhere really set aside for them.
BUT by now you might be feeling sorry for us, so I'd also like to give you another version, equally true...
I could tell you about the hilltop retreat centre which looks like something out of another, enchanted world. Everyone sleeps in little African huts, surrounded by pebbled paths and brightly coloured flower beds. The water is pumped up from deep within the hill, so it can be drunk straight from taps instead of needing to be filtered. Meetings take place in a central, round, open-air hut with a thatched roof. On sunny days small children can play on the rocks by the meeting place, or can go and see the sheep, ducks, monkeys, cats and dogs that live at the centre. I could tell you about the hospitality of a family who invited parents and small children for breakfast every morning, in a hobbit house where all the walls curved and the doorways were arched, and the dining table was a slab of rock. I could also tell you about the richness of the training we received and the joy of new friendships and deep fellowship. Taizé chants and Communion on a warm evening, discussions on language learning and African culture, delicious Beninese food, chats about the trials of coping with toddler tantrums...
It was a diverse and challenging week, and we were exhausted at the end of it, yet we also came home full of enthusiasm and vision for our work here in Benin. Praise God, who sustains and renews us!
(And this week we begin learning the Monkolé language!)
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