Mason Finds Hope

Eight-year-old Mason wiped the tears from his cheeks. He stared at the mound of dirt where his first pet hamster named Champ was buried.

His mother placed an arm around his shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Tears stained her face as she wrapped him in a hug.

Mason closed his eyes and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Why did Champ have to die on Easter morning? It wasn’t fair. It hurt so much. Worse than the time he collided with the goalie from the opposing team for the game winning shot. Worse than getting his tonsils out. He knew it was possible to injury his body and that it could heal. But he didn’t know that his heart could hurt this badly. Did hearts get better too?

Read the full story in StarLight magazine.

SUMMER CAMP: SPEAKING THE GOSPEL CLEARLY

Madison breathed in the crisp mountain air. Pine needles crunched underneath her shoes as she skipped toward the car trunk. She grabbed her green backpack dappled with rainbow butterflies and matching duffle bag. A smile spread across her freckled face.

Barely able to contain her excitement—and nervousness—she bounced from foot to foot. This soon-to-be fourth grader couldn’t wait to check-in for her first overnight summer camp!

“Mom!” Madison exclaimed. “Let’s go!”

“I’m coming!” her mother called back in a singsong voice. Madison’s toddler brother, Lucas, was squirming in her mom’s arms. His brown curls askew after falling asleep on the two-hour drive to camp.

“Dat dar ded!” Lucas proclaimed, pointing to a red car.

Madison tilted her head, unsure what her brother was saying. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“I think,” Madison’s mom interjected, “something about that red car.”

“Oh,” Madison said, touching her chin. “Missed that.” She took the wooden steps leading to the office two at a time.

“Well,” Madison’s mom puffed, grabbing the handrail to steady herself while carrying Lucas up the flight of stairs. “I do spend lots of time with your brother while you’re at school. So I have more practice listening to him.”

The din of campers, parents, and camp staff filled the air as Madison opened the office door. She was minutes away from finding out which cabin would be hers and meeting her cabin mates.

MISSIONARY AND MARKET DAY AND ARABIC, OH MY!

Madison leaned forward, her green eyes sparkling. She was sitting beside her cabin mates during an afternoon missions session with Jill, a missionary who served in the Middle East.

“We will divide everyone into small groups for Arabic lessons,” Jill explained. Her midnight black hair gently swished against her shoulders as she walked toward the front of the classroom. “On Friday, you’ll get to use all the new phrases and words learned throughout the week at our camp version of a Middle Eastern food market. You’ll take your parents through the market and practice your new vocabulary.”

A red-haired girl nudged Madison with her elbow. “I bet,” Callie whispered, “that we’ll rock at this!”

Madison eagerly nodded her head in agreement with her fellow cabin mate. “And,” she whispered back, “our parents will never guess we will be able to speak some Arabic!”

“Most missionaries,” Jill continued, “have to learn a new language and culture. This week you’ll get a taste of what language learning is like. Some Christians from an Arabic-speaking church in the area have volunteered to be your teachers this week.”

Jill called out the assigned groups. Madison and Callie high-fived each other when she announced they’d be in the same group. As the girls lined up behind their Arabic teacher for their first lesson, Madison nervously bit her lower lip.

UNEXPECTED TURBULENCE

Madison loved everything about camp. Her camp counselor told funny jokes and led the best morning Bible devotions. Everyone in her cabin was friendly. She could buy her favorite candy, Butterfinger, from the canteen each afternoon. Hiking to a waterfall had been cool. Roasting marshmallows by the biggest campfire she’d ever seen was awesome. But learning Arabic wasn’t as easy as she had imagined.

And it seemed like everyone else could understand and repeat the words better. Meanwhile her mouth and voice refused to cooperate in producing the right sounds.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Callie’s voice crashed through Madison’s thoughts.

Madison stopped kicking the pebbles along the path and faced her friend. “I don’t know,” she muttered.

“Um, I think you do,” Callie countered. She gave a gentle smile as she waited.

Madison sighed. “It’s just that everyone else is rocking at Arabic, especially you. And I’m not doing so well.”

“I’m sorry,” Callie said. “Maybe we could practice together outside of the lessons until you get the hang of it.”

“I’m not sure,” Madison said slowly.

“Why not?” Callie asked. “I think it would be fun!”

Practicing with someone who was clearly better didn’t sound fun to Madison. But it was better than being confused and unable to guide her mom through the market at the end of the week.

“Besides,” Callie said, “didn’t Jill say anyone could come listen to audio recordings during free time?”

Madison perked up. “Yeah, she did!” And it would be more fun to have a friend with her.

“Well,” Callie chirped, “what are we waiting for? Isn’t it free time now?” Callie started sprinting down the trail. “Beat you there!”

SPEAKING CLEARLY

“Campers, this is your final lesson before market day,” Jill announced to the crowded room of campers. “What has surprised you about learning a new language?”

Hands began to pop up around the room. Jill pointed to Madison.

Madison took a deep breath. “It was hard.”

Jill nodded in agreement. “Learning a new language and culture is very hard. But why do missionaries do it?”

“So they can survive?” Callie blurted out.

The missionary tipped her head back and forth like a swaying swing bridge. “Well,” she began, “that’s true, but not the primary reason. Any other ideas?”

Jill called on a boy with a buzz cut named Mason. “To share the gospel?”

“Precisely!” Jill said. “But not only to share it, but to do so clearly.” Noticing the puzzled looks of the children, Jill grabbed a nearby Bible. “Let me read a verse written by the most well-known missionary from the Bible, the apostle Paul. Listen to what he writes in Colossians 4: 3, 4:

At the same time, pray also for us, that God may open to us a door for the word, to declare the mystery of Christ...that I may make it clear, which is how I ought to speak.

“Paul asked for the church to pray for chances to share about Jesus in ways others could understand. If missionaries don’t learn the language and culture well, they will not be able to share the gospel clearly with people. But they must start at the beginning and sometimes sound like a toddler as they grow in their language skills —even though they are adults!”

Huh, Madison thought. Missionaries have to start out sounding like my little brother before they can tell people about Jesus. Then it hit Madison like a flash of lightning in the sky. Her hand shot up.

“Yes?” Jill asked, nodding toward Madison.

“So does that mean we should pray for missionaries to not give up as they learn language? So they can share the gospel clearly?”

Jill’s brown eyes twinkled. “Absolutely! As long as the missionary is on the field, they need your prayers to keep growing in the language so that they can share the gospel in a meaningful way.”

MARKET DAY

The entire auditorium was buzzing with excitement. Colorful tables of food filled the space. As Madison gazed around the gym, she recognized each food item was a word they had learned in Arabic this week. Now if only she could keep the simple phrases for buying food straight in her mind…

But before she could fret too much, she saw her mom walking toward her, holding Lucas’ hand. Her heart flooded with joy. As much as she loved her camp experience, she had missed her family. Madison darted toward her mom and brother. The three embraced in one giant hug.

“So,” her mom said, “I hear you can help us navigate this Arabic market.”

“I’ll sure try,” Madison said, nervously biting her lip. She grabbed Lucas’ unoccupied hand and began strolling through the make-shift Middle Eastern market.

Lucas stopped in front of a table with red apples. “Dat red!”

“Yes!” Madison exclaimed, eyes wide in surprise as she knelt down next to Lucas. “That’s red.”

Okay, Madison thought, her courage growing. If Lucas can make language progress so can I!

Madison stood up and pointed at one large apple that looked juicy. “Arid tufaahatan.” She turned to her mom. “That means, ‘I want apple.’”

The apple vendor smiled. He placed the piece of fruit in a small brown paper bag and handed it to Madison.

“Shukran! Thanks!” Madison said. She pumped her first in the air. “I did it!” she cheered.

Her mother beamed. “Yes, you did!”

And so as not to be left out, Lucas chimed in, “Dat red!”

DANIELLE'S SPRING BREAK IN DJIBOUTI

My face was jolted by the blast of warm air as I exited the airplane. I walked down the steps toward the single gate airport. It felt like the beginning of summer. Back home my favorite purple flowers, crocuses, were just starting to bloom. But for spring break, my mom and I were visiting my aunt in the African country of Djibouti.

Before flying here, I checked out books from the library. I learned there are two main people groups who live in Djibouti—Somalis and Afars. French is one of the official languages spoken by everyone.

I was nervous about traveling outside the U.S. for the first time and trying to speak French—a language I was learning at school. This is why my mom thought I should come along—to practice my French and experience a new culture.

“Your aunt says Djibouti is the hottest country year around, Danielle,” my mom told me as we pulled our carry-ons toward the one and only baggage claim inside the terminal.

I could believe that! If it’s this hot now, summer must be sizzling! I thought to myself.

Once my dentist mom collected her bag filled with equipment for a dental clinic, we headed outside to find my Aunt Molly. She was easy to spot in the parking lot. My aunt is tall, fair-skinned, and a red scarf was draped around her shoulders. She stood by the open trunk of a white SUV, grinning. She looked comfortable even though I didn’t feel comfortable at all—nothing looked, sounded or smelled the same as home. But I guess she should be at ease since she’s lived here for as long as I’ve been alive—ten years.

“Bonjour!” Aunt Molly chirped. “I’m so happy to see you!’ She embraced both of us in a big hug and then loaded our belongings inside the vehicle.

 “Anyone thirsty?” Aunt Molly passed my mom and I each a waterbottle as we cruised through the capital city.

I stared out the window, eager to discover what it was like to live here. We passed a man in shorts peddling a bicycle. He was pulling a small blue cart. On the side of the cart was a painting of an ice cream cone and what I guessed was a Djiboutian flag.

I guzzled my water and wiped my brow with the back of my hand. Ice cream was sounding really good about now.

As the car left the capital city and veered toward our village destination, the brown landscape stretched before us like an empty checker board. I caught a glimpse of mountains. “How far is it to the village?” I asked.

“A bit less than two hours,” Aunt Molly said. “I’m so excited your mom is a part of the dental clinic for the villagers! And I’m glad you can help out with it! The Somali people who live in this village don’t have access to dental care. This will be a great service my non-government organization (NGO) can provide to meet a need in the community.”

“So Somalis in this village can’t see a dentist?” I asked, puzzled. “What do they do when a tooth hurts?”

Aunt Molly exhaled loudly. “Well, most just have to deal with the pain—”

 “For the rest of their lives?” I squealed.

“Or until they can scrounge up enough money to travel to the capital and pay a dentist,” my aunt explained. “But that’s money needed for food, water, rent, or a doctor visit.”

I leaned back in my seat. What would it be like to never visit a dentist—even if you really needed one? 

EXPLORING ISLAM: NOAH'S DUBAI ADVENTURE

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“Al'abwab tughliq!” an automated male voice announces in Arabic. “The doors are closing!”

My jaw drops in surprise as the train doors slide shut, then the metro car glides away from the stop. I have never heard Arabic spoken before, but everywhere I look signs are written in both Arabic and English. Cool!

My dad and I traveled to the city of Dubai in the country of the United Arab Emirates (UAE). Dubai is located in the Middle East and we are visiting my Uncle Blake who teaches English here.

My uncle greets us at the airport, but instead of taking a taxi we hop onto the sleek blue and gray metro to go to his apartment where we will stay for our visit.

As I peer out the window, a sprawling city with skyscrapers meets my gaze. As we zip past buildings and palm trees, I eagerly wait to catch a glimpse of the Burj Khalifa—the world’s tallest skyscraper! This desert city is great!