My 26th birthday is coming up – don’t worry, I’m not going to tell you to check out my care package page or anything – but I’m feeling more like its my 15th birthday. In someways it is. I have a new job, I’m learning how to drive a car, learning how to cook, learning how to make friends in new social situations – generally learning to live as an adult again.

Please don’t think I’m having a pity party here, these situations provide a lot of laughter that help brighten my day. It’s taken some time but I’m gradually learning where to get certain things and which stores carry what. So far the biggest learning curve has been my truck. I got a great deal on a Toyota Hilux, a great bush vehicle. I’m already planning trans-African journeys and adventures to the unknown. But before I can do that I need to learn how to drive a manual. I mean, I know how to in theory but I’ve only done it a few times and am not ready to hit the roads quite yet.

I’m ready to run, but first I’ve got to put my time in walking.

We’ve got a big weekend ahead of us here in Zambia. We are hosting our first conference for our new group of ACTION Pastors College students. We will work closely and intimately with these 15 pastors over the next 3 years. The pastors and their wives will spend the Saturday at Ciyanjano. I’m going to start a project documenting their lives during their journey through our program so stay tuned.

Please pray for this weekend. Pray that everything works and goes well. And most importantly that relationships between AZ and the pastors and their wives begin to form and solidify.

One of the things I’ve been looking forward to doing in Zambia is living sustainably; eating food I’ve raised and grown with my own hands. I believe we as Christians are called to be good stewards of creation. Yes, “local” and “organic” back in the States usually means you’re paying a premium but here it’s the default. You can’t get more locally sourced than your own backyard.

One of the things I’ll be looking into, for both a possible income generation venture and personal endeavor, is raising chickens. When I say living sustainably, I do include butchering – aka killing and processing – the chicken.

And in order to do this you have to go to the experts. In my case it was my homestay mother, Mrs. Mwale, and her adopted son. We went out in the afternoon to buy the chicken; this is the one we got. For some reason, I expected us to carry it or put it in a cage or something but no, we put it in our grocery bag, along with the celery, lettuce, and onions. I guess the fact it’s still breathing is just semantics, it is food after all.

For the record, the kid in the blue shirt delivered the coup de grace on this one.

When it was time to kill it, I followed the kid in the blue shirt out back. He carried the chicken by its wings in one hand and a knife in the other. As I pinned the chicken’s legs and wings down with my leg I had a hard time understanding what the kid was trying to say so his instructions were lost in translation. I tried cutting the throat but was aiming too low, and the knife was a bit dull. After much struggling, from both the chicken and myself, the kid took the knife from my hand and swiftly slit the chicken’s throat.

I felt ashamed, not because I killed something, but because I failed to do it. This six year old kid had to do it. In my defense, I didn’t know where to cut. I wasn’t scared but I’m sure the kid was scoffing at my complete inability to perform such a primal skill.

I learned an important lesson. There are skills, and then there are skills. Throughout human history these are the skills you want at the end of the day. How many words per minute you can type or what your Klout score is – if you know your Klout score go out and buy a live chicken right now, kill it, then cook and eat it in order to redeem yourself as a functional human being – don’t mean much if you can’t eat.

Then we scalded and plucked it.

Plucked.

And cooked it.

Fried Chicken

Obviously I didn’t take photos of gutting it since my hands were covered in guts but I got the hang of it. I’m looking forward to raising more chickens. Can’t get more organic than this…

One month ago today I landed in Lusaka. This month has been filled with adventure, trials, ups and down, and lots of good lessons. God has proven faithful as always and made this month one I will always remember.

I don’t know where exactly I am at this moment or what I’m doing to mark the occasion. I wrote this blog two weeks ago before I left for my homestay. So, I could be in the compounds of Lusaka, or in a village in Eastern Zambia.

At this point I have a few more days left with my host family. By now, what once was my comfort zone has been brutally shattered and a new one is being established. The way I view myself, Zambians, and the world has changed. My feelings about living here for at least another 17 months may or may not have changed. My emotional condition and stress levels are and have been at the breaking point for almost two months and I’m not sure where I’m at.

Since I’m writing this on April 19th and publishing it today I’m not sure how the above will be valid or true. But one thing is for certain. God is still faithful. I have trusted Him these past two weeks in ways I haven’t in years – or maybe ever in my lifetime.  I can say on April 19th with complete confidence that will have He carried me in His arms through these turbulent times and brought me to this point. Where that is, I am not sure although I know it’s right where He wants me.

I am grateful for the love and support of those who have prayed, sent an word of encouragement, and donated. Thank you. This past month has truly been a special time for me.