Not only was I privileged to be able to visit and explore Dogon country this past week, but I was also able to visit a mosque for the first time. I honestly did not really know what to expect, other than the fact that I had to cover my head, and take off my shoes. I have only ever read and heard of what goes on inside of a mosque and was therefore rather intrigued to learn more about the primary religion of the people that I now live amongst. Upon our entrance, I was told that because I was a female, I would not be aloud to enter into the same room of prayer as the men.  So, the rest of the females and I began on our adventure up a staircase and into the area where women are aloud to pray.  As I slipped off my sandals before entering, I was reminded of Moses’ encounter with God at the burning bush, where he was told to take off his shoes for he was on holy ground. Sadly, I was taking my shoes off for ground that is only thought to be holy.  There is no presence of God that rests inside of that place, calling and comforting the people that enter into it. I walked forward to a wall with small holes in it, so that women are blocked from being able to look fully down into the room where the Imam will speak, and where the men pray. They are separated and often uneducated about their own religion, although expected to follow through with the daily requirements of it. I immediately felt a physical pressure that weighed on my entire being.  I began to cry as I watched a lady start to pray. I felt the Lord just speak to me and say that He hears every single prayer that is lifted to Allah. It would be as though my father were standing right in front of me, but instead I turned to a different man, and begged and pleaded with that man for my life. But that man cannot do anything for me, because he is not my father, and my father could not do anything for me because I am not speaking to him. The Lord is beginning to give me an understanding  of the hearts behind the people that stop what they are doing five times a day to pray to the god of Islam.

Until moving to Mali, the Lord has never had to be everything to me. At home I always have a person to fill in all of the different spots that pop up throughout the day, and those spots change from day to day.  But since being here, I have never felt so alone. Of course, I am constantly around people, but not people that I can take rest in.  The Lord is having to take the place of my parents, my best friend, my acquaintances, my doctor and every other place that you could possibly think of. Although I am sure that I could go lower, I feel as though I have hit my lowest point. But that’s okay. That is exactly where the Lord wants me to be. He is teaching me weakness. He said that it is through my weakness, that I will find His strength. Obviously its not an easy process, but in the end I am sure that it will be quite worth it. The Lord is proving to me each and every day that He is faithful to speak to me through His word, when I am faithful to first bring my emotions to Him. When I make Him my first priority, He makes me His first priority. He is forever faithful.

This week has been full of new experiences. I am getting comfortable in my surroundings and learning new things about the culture each and every day.  We are taking language classes twice a week and I assure you, Bambara is no piece of cake. But, the Malian’s get so excited when they see that you are trying to learn their language and practice with them, even if you do butcher it entirely.  The first week that we were here, we had a common Malian dish for dinner one day. At that point, I had to do everything that I could to not throw up each bite that I took in. This week, we had that plate once again.. And apparently my taste buds have had a change in heart because now I cannot wait until the next time that I get to eat it. Progress. Of course, I am still missing home with everything in me, and I pray each and every day that my parents get to come and visit this summer.. But regardless,  I am still making progress.. Even though sometimes that is hard to see.  Thank you all for your prayers and encouragement, the Lord has definitely used that to show me His comfort in times where I need it the most.  As we say it in Bambara, I ni ce, or Barika. Thankyou.

Ps- If anybody wants to write letters or send packages, here is the address:

Ariel Ivey
Care of:
Mission Evangelique
B.P. 3211
Bamako, Mali

The love of God is not composed of acts of kindness. Kindness is a product of God’s love, that results in His blessing, but it is not God’s love. For God’s love is not just an action. Because He loved the world, He sent His son. Jesus dying for us was a result, a product, of what love really is.  We have been unconsciously taught to show love through gifts, or acts of service. But that’s not love, it’s a product of love. So, what is love?

The topic that the Lord has, and continues to speak to me about is the transformation of my mind. I cannot love people until I have a full understanding of God's love for me. Understanding does not come through different doctrine or teaching. I'm honestly quite sick of  hearing what man thinks about God. I want to learn who God is, and I want to learn who He is from Him. I think that the most difficult part is having to strip away everything that I already think about God, and relearn Him. Transformation can only occur when I have been stripped of all preconceived ideas, so that new ones may be poured in. The Lord is certainly doing so here in Mali, and I am already gaining new understanding from the best teacher that there is. The Lord is always faithful to speak to me through His word, and I am so grateful that He has given me ears to hear, when I am willing to listen. This week we embark on more adventures. We will be visiting and aids orphanage, teaching English in a 90% Muslim school, learning more language, and learning more about Jesus. I think that's enough to be stoked for a good while.

This week was full of unpacking, organizing, learning, trying new foods, and entering into a different culture. There is an incredible team of missionaries here that will be mentoring and training us as we begin to adjust. On Wednesday we got to move into our apartment, experience our first Malian grocery store, and each of us got to pick material for a new bag to be made. When I chose my material, the man said that it was from the Puel Nomadic Tribe, which was actually the tribe that he was from. After telling me this, he proceeded to call me his sister. I cannot begin to express how much joy this has brought me. It was my first time feeling like I was strangely making my way into the culture, and more importantly into the hearts of people.  It's rather difficult to not be able to speak French or Bambara, but I have been practicing the few words and greetings that I know. Our official Bambara classes will begin next week, as well as our official weekly schedule. Amongst all of my emotions and missing home, the Lord is faithful. I have questioned myself a hundred times and over again this week about why I allowed myself to do this. I honestly feel foolish. But, that doesn't earase the fact that this is what God has called me to do. And because this is what He has called me to do, He will help me to love it here. The lesson taught by Mr. Faouzi, a former Muslim who is now a missionary to the muslims, was about Credibility. Although, not credibility as in what we are authorized to do. He stated that character was your greatest credibilty. That is my goal for the next year, and I'm sure that the Lord has alot planned to help me out with that. I will rejoice.

I have indeed arrived safely in Mali. The Lord's grace truly is sufficient as He proved Himself many times during our big adventure to the city of Bamako. We were presented to the church here this morning, and were received with all the love and kindness that one could possibly hope for. We get a sneak peak at our apartment tonight, after a cookout with some fellow missionaries. I really, really miss home.. But, I'm sure its just a matter of time before this place becomes home. 

“So do not be afraid of them, for there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known. ²⁷ What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs. ²⁸ Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell. ²⁹ Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.^[b] 30 And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. ³¹ So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.”

See? My Bible says so. Right there. As clear as the sun and the moon in the sky.. As clear as the distinction from night to day. My Bible says so. I suppose that because I received what was really the first bit of opposition that I have had in regard to my move to Africa, it hit me rather hard. Not because I for even a second questioned whether or not this was what God wanted me to do. But, because I honestly questioned whether or not I have it in me to complete, or at least try to complete what God has asked of me. But ya know what? I don’t have to have it in me.  It’s really as simple as that. I’m not going to pretend like I’m just excited and cannot wait to leave. I actually get sick to my stomach just thinking about it, and spend more time crying than I do breathing. However, it’s not even because I don’t want to go. I do. I’m just scared. Yes, scared. Scared to death, actually. That’s just me being bare faced. Emotionally naked. I’m just so glad right now that God, through His word, speaks specifically to my fear. I have nothing to fear. My Bible says to fear God more than man, actually. Fear what I embrace more than anything? Thats a concept and a whole other day of thinking in itself.  It’s hard to have a holy and healthy fear of God. I’ll work on that tomorrow. Right now, I am hugging the fact that He says not to be afraid. He opened up my chest and just poured those words in and displaced all of my worry. I am sacrificing my comfort of fear, for peace. Pretty sweet trade. And I’ll be honest again.. I have to work at replacing my comfortable discomfort with the word of God. That’s like a part time job. But, He’s faithful. And I guess that that is really all that I am trying to say with this massive paragraph of words. He is faithful. That’s it.

God is such an incredible Provider. He is pouring out so much that it's really hard to even believe it. My departure date is ever so quickly approaching. A mixture of nerves, excitement, and a tub full of other emotions are bubbling inside of me. God's promises are true. He is my portion. I am thrilled today to be able to say that in only eighteen days I will be in my precious Mali. I remind myself daily that God is faithful. "I believe, but help my unbelief." All that Jesus needs is a tiny seed of faith in order to be able to work in my life. That, and honesty in the moments where I really do not believe Him in the way that I should. Let's go.

It is rather exciting that exactly one month from this day, I will step onto a plane and my life will forever be different. There is still so much to be done. I still need monthly support. I feel rather unprepared. I can only pray that the Lord is in some way preparing me although I feel so far from it. My heart is torn and at the same time leaping with joy. Jesus is my Sustainer, my Creator, my Provider, my Lover.. And He will only continue to become more to me. I am so stoked to allow Him to complete every part of who I am. He is sufficient.

"I am El Shaddai. Walk before me and be perfect." -Genesis 17:1