Journal from the Edge: By Cailyn Ozier*

April 12
Yesterday Mom, Dad, my little brother and I drove down to Waco, Texas, to meet Dad’s family for a goodbye dinner. Before we parted ways, they wanted to circle around me and pray. One little cousin clung to me the whole time. My little cousins are going to be huge a couple years from now when I get back from this assignment. In fact, two of them are already taller than I am!

One thing that really stuck out to me was that after the prayer time my aunt looked truly moved even though she and my uncle aren’t believers. She took my head between her hands, touched my forehead to hers, and said, “Our thoughts are with you.”

All at once, it hit me how much that meant to me and yet how meaningless those thoughts are with no reason to hope, without the Lord. My Lord is my hope. I want them to understand that – to have that.

Now I am leaving my lost uncle, aunt and cousins, who have heard and denied, to go around the world to give the opportunity to other lost people.

Saying goodbye to my brothers was very hard. I love them and will miss them so much.

April 15
This morning as I tried to finish all my last-minute packing and other responsibilities. The little girl inside me kicked and screamed. I don’t want to fly on my own to Germany! I don’t want to have to be this responsible. I don’t want to go anywhere! The panic never came outward.

Then in the car, as I sat in the back writing thank you cards to generous church family, trying to get yet one more item in my carry-on and realizing I needed to call a company for logistical/responsible-type stuff. I freaked out a little inwardly again, felt car sick, and quit writing.

I just needed to stop – stop working on something, stop thinking about it all, and just pray for strength. “Get me through this.”

I feel much better, excited even, in a calm sort of way.

April 16 (4:10 am German time)
I encountered a lady who was freaking out more than me in the airport. A Muslim couple stood in front of me in line to board the plane. They looked so confused as to who was allowed to board, and the woman had tears in her eyes.

I smiled, and she weakly returned it. When I said asalaam aleykum (the Muslim greeting), a wave of emotion welled up in both of their faces. Though the husband had minimal English, I was able to ask what seats they were in and tell them it wasn’t their turn to board yet.

I motioned crying and waving goodbye to ask if they had left family and that was why she was so sad. I don’t think they quite understood, but they knew I was being kind and I could see the gratitude.

When it was my turn to go, I told them, “Maybe next group; not yet” and told them what numbers to listen for.

I wish I could speak to them more! I challenge you to look for opportunities to help internationals you see. Even without being able to speak one another’s language, it can go a long way. To you women out there – don’t fear a woman with a head covering, but treat her as a sister.

April 20
I’ve arrived in South Asia and am undergoing two weeks of Edge training before heading to my country of assignment.

Since coming here, I’ve been dealing partly with culture shock but more with job shock. I know that I am inadequate and that I’m supposed to be so that He can do all things through me, but it hasn’t been much of a comfort.

I’ve been moving toward this point for so long that I suppose I’ve gotten a little over-confident, or at least been on autopilot, in spite of myself.

Now here I am in South Asia for more training, and I don’t want to go out and talk to strangers. I mean, engaging a classroom of people with whom I’ll spend six weeks, like I did on a previous summer trip, is one thing. I’ve become more of an extravert for things like that. But going out into the streets of a big city and approaching total strangers to learn a few words in their language and the thought of taking it even further to steer the conversation toward the Good News is a whole different matter. It’s kind of like writing with your left hand when you’re right-handed, awkward and messy.

Nevertheless, I know that God has made me who I am and will use me. I know that I’m not supposed to stay in my comfort zone but to stretch and grow. I know that He’ll show me what He wants from me, and that I need to be obedient in it, with His grace and strength.

My supervisor is coming today, which I am so thankful for. It’s so much harder to feel excited about what we’re doing without the presence of that leadership. I need someone who’s a visionary, because I’m not, and who inspires confidence. I feel like a lot of my situation will improve when I actually get into my country of service, when I get to see it and meet the girls on our team and all that.

I don’t want to be here in this city. I’m not prepared for this culture. I know very little about Hindus, and I don’t want to invest in learning a city where I’m not going to be living and serving. But I’m here for now, learning helpful things, and people need to hear the Good News here, too, and who knows, I could end up here again for some period of time. Things happen.  Oh, expectations and plans….

April 23

Today, all of the Edgers in the training met in small groups and talked about Revelation 5. 
“Weep no more; behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the root of David, has conquered…” (Revelation 5:5, ESV).

Our small group leader spoke of the Great Commission in Matthew as a battle cry, and I pictured Narnia.

I didn’t come here just because I care about people, but to glorify God and make Him known, to make Him visible in a land of darkness.

“You, Lord, have called me in righteousness; you will take hold of my hand. You will keep me and make me to be a covenant for the people and a light for the Gentiles, to open eyes that are blind, to free captives from prison, and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness” (Isaiah 42:6-7, paraphrase).

You are my joy.

Fun moment today – three of us had to find a rickshaw back to the house we’re staying in. We had previously discovered that it’s easier and cheaper to cross the street to catch the rickshaws already heading in the right direction. This particular street is a busy main road with a cement median separating the traffic headed each direction. So we crossed half of the street and stood in the median. Then came the really busy section. Traffic was slow, but cars were moving, and eventually we just stepped out in front of them. It sure feels like an accomplishment, stepping out to the other side alive! Have you ever felt like you’re living the game Frogger? That’s what it’s like.

April 25
Yesterday was our community trip. We were paired up and sent out into the city to prayerwalk and share the Story, with Muslim women specifically.

We took a rickshaw to one area of town, got to the outskirts of the market and talked to a family with minimal English. They told their son to deliver us to the masjid (mosque) to answer our questions. We didn’t really want to go there; we wanted to talk to Muslim women. However, we couldn’t refuse, so to the masjid we went. Once there, we had to ritually cleanse ourselves. That was a first. We only rinsed our feet and hands, and then a couple of preteen boys led us into the women’s area of the mosque… and didn’t leave.

No one else was in that part of the building. It was a madrasa during the day, a school for boys to learn the Quran.  We tried to talk to them a little, but it was going nowhere – they didn’t speak a word of English – so we decided to pray. They wouldn’t leave. I tried to be polite, then I motioned, “We pray. You GO” very firmly.

They still wouldn’t go. So we gave up and just prayed for about three minutes. Then I heard water being poured. I opened my eyes soon after, to find about seven to 10 boys just staring at us and talking.

So we drank their water of hospitality and got out of there. We walked to a park to re-gather and rethink our approach. Even after that, the first area wasn’t working so well, and we decided to move on to another part of town.

When we got to another area, we ran into a woman who spoke no English and turned out not to be Muslim herself, but took us up to her home to meet a lady who was Muslim and spoke English!

Sapphire* and her children and nieces sat on the tiny floor and talked with us as we sat on the bed/couch. I told the stories of the little children coming to Jesus and then how He calmed the storm. I motioned the stories with added sound effects, and Sapphire translated. It was so fun!
The oldest girl stayed the whole time with her mother, even when the rest trickled out. If everything wasn’t translated, she’d poke her mom in the side to remind her. I had the feeling that even if no one else is a seeker, this little girl might grow up to believe!

We got to talking about the differences in our beliefs, and Alayna*, my partner for the next two years, told the basics of the overarching Story. By the time we left, Sapphire asked us to come back on Sunday. I’ve never tried harder to remember my way back somewhere! Left, right, down this dark alley and that; turn at the pottery shop….

I felt so in my element telling stories to those children. Who knew? It was truly a neat experience, and I’m excited about going back. She wanted us to meet her husband, so I’m hoping he’ll turn out to be searching as well.

April 27
Alayna and I went back to see Sapphire’s family, and they brought in an imam to answer our questions, which turned out alright. He’d been in America most of his life, so communication was easier, and he didn’t stay long. After he left, we were served chai, and I was bummed.
“Did we really only come here to be passed off to an imam? Will the family talk to us?”
When a South Asian family serves you hot drinks, it generally cues the end of your visit. But while we drank, the husband, Asif*, began to talk to us. He said he was so happy we had come.

We talked about our different holy books and asked if he would like one of ours in his language, to which he said yes. I asked if I could pray for them and their family, which was a beautiful moment, and Asif told me he would read every day. I said that I read every day too and that when I do, I will pray for him and his family and that he would learn truth.

Then we were invited to eat a meal, so we sat with him and two older women who asked questions about us. They were shocked we aren’t married yet, and said that I look Middle Eastern. Apparently I was a big hit for that reason.

After we all ate, we were invited to stay the rest of the day and eat dinner with them too, but we needed to go. If and when we visit this city again, we will definitely take them up on the offer to visit again. As we left, each woman took our hand in hers and then placed her own on her heart, and I followed suit. What a cool day!

April 29 – Big Day
Alayna and I flew with our supervisor, another single woman, to a city close to the border of our country of service where we met our luggage. A driver had taken our big bags the night before. After meeting up with him, we drove to the border, filled out our paperwork, and six porters took our 50-pound (at least!) bags, one on each man’s head. The oldest man even rolled a suitcase too.

There’s a long stretch between the gate on one side, the gate at the actual borderline, and the gate on the other side, and it’s all done on foot. When we got to the actual border, the porters handed the bags and trunks off to six porters on the other side. We stopped to sign the books, walked some more, then came to a building and sat for a while, and then a man who recognized our supervisor took us to do some more paperwork and then to talk to the boss.

Our supervisor has a good rapport with one of the officers who is gone right now, but this one had met her once before as well. He invited us to have some tea or Coke, and we took the latter considering the temperature! So we sat in his office, along with another person from our city who came to pick us up, and we all talked for a while. Not a bad introduction to our country. How many times have you been asked to tea by an American Customs officer? No way!

Just driving 30 minutes on the other side and 30 minutes on this side made us like our new country better. It’s a bit more structured and looks nicer or something. Then we had delicious kababs for dinner!

April 30
And then I threw up those delicious kababs. I haven’t been this sick for a long while. It wasn’t the food; we think it might be a virus because now Alayna has it, too, or it could be the water we drank in the mosque or the family’s home. Oh, misery!

And then the changes we’ve heard about for our team turned out to be bigger than we thought. Our supervisor has been asked to step into another role, which is a great opportunity, but means she won’t be our supervisor anymore and that we’re not going up north with her this month. And right now, miserably sick in the midst of this heat, that last part comes as a hard blow.

So here I am, sick at both ends (pardon the graphics), bummed in general and disappointed, and all I want is my mommy.

Two verses comfort me:
“There is none like God, O Jeshurun, who rides through the heavens to your help, through the skies in his majesty. The eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms” (Deuteronomy 33:26-27a, ESV).
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9, ESV).
Our old supervisor came in later and asked how I was, and I just started crying – I hate being sick – and she prayed for me. God truly is my only comforter.

May 1
This day, fifteen years ago I think, is the day I was baptized. I’m a fifteen-year-old believer, and I’ve seen growth to show for it, but I haven’t seen new births because of that change. It’s not because He can’t or doesn’t want to bring people to Himself, so my question is: What am I doing to hinder His work?

I think I’ve given lost friends a better impression of His people. I’ve encouraged and nurtured other believers, but I don’t want to be a barren woman, nor do I want to wait until I’m elderly like Sarah to see that promise. What stops me from bearing that fruit now?

May 2
Yesterday, we had dinner with our new supervisors, which definitely helped me feel better about things. I figured it would. It helped so much to hear their ideas and how they see us on their team and what we’ll be up to for the next month. I’m really excited now about the opportunities this change could bring.

Tomorrow, we plan to move into the house with the other girls here. I’m excited about that! They’ll leave soon, but until then we have some help getting adjusted.

I still want to have a real, informative and brainstorming talk with Uncle, my new supervisor, about what I can do and strategy stuff.  (They call any man uncle who has responsibility for you or is just older, and females are baji, sister, including our house helper. She’s a much older woman than us and speaks about three words of English, and I like her a lot. I can’t wait to be able to speak her heart language with her.)

Oh, I haven’t mentioned a big part of our lives here, load shedding! This is when the power goes out for about an hour or two, or maybe more, throughout the day. It’s mostly scheduled where you can count on it, but not always. You just hope your air-conditioned room doesn’t get too hot before it comes back on again.

May 3
First birthday overseas – Not too shabby!

Woke up and my temporary roomie, Marni*, and I made birthday pancakes, and the four of us sat down to a great breakfast (with pomegranates and coffee, too). And Marni left me a card and little gift from Bath & Body Works on my pillow!

The girls took us driving around town to get a feel for the city. I’m sad they’re leaving so soon, not just because we won’t have them around but also because we’ll have less time to learn from them how to get around and all the other little tips I’d love to have. Oh well, we’ll figure it out like they did.

Then we went to our team meeting, which turned out to be a surprise party, including cake and a few presents. Alayna and Marni had to sneak out from the party on an errand to get my presents because we’re always together. I can’t say I didn’t suspect, but they did a good job. My college friends always did surprise parties, so they began to be not so surprising.

I felt very welcomed to the team. It was nice; especially considering I just learned my address yesterday and had no chance of receiving anything from friends or family back home yet.

May 9
There’s a girl here whom I haven’t met yet, but she loves Jesus, has heard the full story and shares it with her family, wants a JESUS film, and speaks great English. Wow, huh? She’s really open, but how do we get her from that point, loving Him, to accepting Him as the only one and casting aside the old? I had the same dilemma with a friend I have from the Middle East. I have kept up with her for years and it seems she’s still at the same place or has quit caring. And these are educated, more free-thinking, English-speaking girls than what we’ll find in many villages.

How will these women hear, and begin to ponder things they may never have thought themselves worthy of, and accept?  The second is my big question at the moment. I mean, even if you or a national can communicate the story and issues, they haven’t been allowed to question or even taught to know the religion they are brought up in. I get that accepting comes down to the Spirit. This does, too. It’s huge. Of course, so is the way salvation works!
Father, how can they believe? Father, help them believe. They can believe.

It’s impossible. With Him, all things are possible.

May 19
It’s hard to figure out how to get something going or just to do it without figuring it out. It is for me anyway.

How many weeks have I been here? Three. And what have I done? Today we’re going out to meet people, engage in conversation, find out how they tick and what they believe. That same stubborn, scared child within me is kicking and screaming again, like the day on my way to the airport. I don’t want to go into the unknown and try to meet people randomly like this. Why? Why is this so hard for me internally now? I haven’t always been this bad; I don’t think.

I didn’t come all the way here to sit in a house and chill or read. I didn’t come here to hang out with other international Christians. I didn’t even come to build a friendship with my house helper who is very sweet and kissed my hand this morning when she left. (I doubt she’s ever worked for people who treat her kindly and as an equal like we do, and we can’t even communicate well with her.) I came to tell the Good News. What is stopping me? What is this wall that I’ve hit? Just get out there and do it.

And we did. Later today we had a fun two-hour-long conversation with a couple of girls in a coffee shop, and it’s not so hard to start things like that here.

During the last couple of weeks, we have traveled to different parts of the country and met lots of national believers – both from Christian and Muslim backgrounds. We met a national Christian couple who do work in a mixed village where Alayna will do nursing and I will teach in a school three days a month. If things work out, we may even go for longer amounts of time, but we’ll just see.

We had dinner in the home of a national Christian family who does radio broadcasts in multiple languages, including those of the tribal and more fundamental peoples. After dinner, the wife sat and helped us learn new words in her language. We spent two days with a national Christian family who took in a Muslim-background believer as their own son and secured his marriage to a sweet bride. We sat with the couple and prayed for their marriage as I held her traditionally henna-dyed hands.

I want to talk to these sisters of mine. I want to meet them, hear their stories, encourage them, challenge them to share, find out how they came to believe and how to reach others. That’s the thought that keeps coming up, the one that excites me. How do I travel around to them and make something of that?

*Name changed for security purposes.

Cailyn Ozier is a Journeyman serving on theEdge in South Asia.