A boy named Sue

Ray Evangeline. It's a name that people either love or hate. We have yet to meet friend or stranger that is capable of hiding their reaction to it. You'll deal with this your whole life; we totally recognize that and accept responsibility for it. So here's why we did it, my girl.

You were good news. Nope... you were great news. We found out just a month before you entered our lives as a tiny embryo that we had between a 1 and 3 percent chance of getting pregnant. Our doctor talked us through godly grieving and implored us not to target one another in the bitterness that sadness can sometimes breed. I was too shocked to have proper time to be sad before God gave us you. From my perspective, your dad was very sad. You'll have to ask him for a more accurate representation of his reaction to the news when you're curious. Regardless of how either of us felt during that month of processing, we were overjoyed (and a little stunned) when God made your presence known. Besides being a lovely name, Evangeline became a natural fit for you because you were our good news.

Ray is a boy's name. Got it. We obviously knew that when we chose it, but we honestly didn't think it would be as difficult for people as it has been. "Rae" has become more common for a girl, so we figured all would be well despite the boy spelling. We also thought that by growing up in PNG, you wouldn't have to deal with the stigma of it being a boy's name. We've never encountered a Papua New Guinean man named Ray. Lots of Johns, Thomases, Stevens, and Andrews, but no Rays. Your dad just finished some work "in the bush" and showed lots of Papua New Guineans pictures of you. They loved you. They were also confused as to why we would give our little girl a boy's name. Hmmmm... oops.

But I'm not going to apologize to you for the explanations you will constantly be required to give. As you grow into the beautiful woman of God I know you'll be, I hope you'll understand the significance of your name and love having opportunities to explain it. Your grandmother called me her ray of sunshine my whole life, which she shortened to Ray. So you're getting "my" name. I'll be the first to tell you that I was only a ray of sunshine occasionally. I was a serious child often being admonished to be happy or to smile or to stop looking so mean. I didn't intend to communicate tenseness, it was just that my default facial expression was, quite unfortunately, very serious. You, on the other hand, are a naturally happy child. You laugh often and smile almost unceasingly. Where people commented over and over again that I should be happier, they comment over and over again on your gentle demeanor and friendly face. "Does she ever cry???" they ask. Of course you do, but never without a valid reason. I held my smiles close and you pass them out like candy. You truly are your name.

Beyond that, your dad and I desperately want you to be a ray of God's light in a very dark world. Go ahead and grimace at the cheesiness of that statement, but that's the best way I know to say it. We want you to grow to know and love Him to the point that it overflows into the lives of those around you. It's a hard place you've been born into; not a day goes by that I don't hear or read something that makes me sad (and scared) for you. But I also have full faith that God can give you the ability to embrace your name and shine for Him. 

So I'm not sorry we gave you a boy's name. Live up to it and remember whose kid you are every time you have to explain why you're a girl named Ray. 

Brian was thrilled to find some BBQ sauce with Baby Ray's name!

Cultural hang-ups

Traditional clothing seen on the Rai Coast

It's interesting to me how the western world feels the need to put clothes on naked village children. We have this mindset that all children need to wear clothes because that's obviously appropriate; naked children running around in the world makes us feel sad and is kind of offensive (though we may not admit the latter as a motivator for sending warm clothes to equatorial countries). The same goes for what clothes adults wear and how they wear them. Men wear pants and women wear items that cover all the blush-worthy areas, as we define them. We value clothing and tend to barrel ahead with our "right" views instead of learning about what constitutes modesty for others.

I first started thinking about this when I saw how western clothing translates in a PNG village setting. I stayed with a family on the north coast for five weeks in 2007. They had two sons and two daughters, all of whom stayed more or less fully clothed. The mother and father stayed fully clothed, most of the rest of the villagers stayed fully clothed, and all was right in my world. Then one day I popped over to the family's house unannounced to ask a question about the meal that night. The area of their home designated for cooking was partially concealed, but open enough to invite visitors. Anyone walking by could see in. As I strolled up and called out to the mother, I heard all manner of scrambling. When she peeked her head around I could tell she was throwing on her shirt and was rather embarrassed. I was confused because being topless in PNG is not uncommon, especially for a mother. Why would she be embarrassed? 

After that I started noticing things. I noticed that all the boys in the village wore shorts, even though most of those shorts had a worn out bottom. I noticed the women wearing shirts around me. I noticed the women not wearing shirts in situations where I was not expected to be. I noticed children being dressed in the morning by their parents and then promptly undressing as soon as their parents went to the garden. Overall I noticed that people were trying to communicate that they, too, were respectable by some vague definition of the word they thought I had. I then noticed as time went by that the overtly western cultural rules began to slide and the shirts (gasp!) stayed off.

Based on several articles published about PNG, and general discussions I've had with people about life there, it's obvious that many believe PNG is uncivilized. They base their judgements on what they think a civilized culture should be, and that picture does not include naked children or topless mothers. This mindset over the years, and the cultural hang-ups early missionaries overlaid onto their message, created a legalistic church culture where people are wearing things because that's what it means to be a Christian. It has created profound confusion about what is right and what is wrong. On surveys, I've had many conversations where people expressed their frustration at contradicting rules missionary's have brought or how missionaries have "changed their mind" about what's right and wrong. It's so easy to believe the things we're teaching aren't culturally motivated, but so many of them are. Even something as basic in our minds as what defines modesty. Some things just aren't so black and white as I grew up believing.

PNG is rapidly changing. Part of the change includes the view of clothing and what certain outfits communicate. Regardless of the outcome, I have learned to examine carefully what standards I'm holding up to others. The conversations I've had with confused and frustrated Papua New Guineans over early Christian teachings that emphasized a "do this, don't do that" list based on western cultural norms has further verified in my mind the importance of Bible translation. A major reason they are frustrated is because they haven't been able to test teachings against Scripture, so they are at the mercy of the western whim. And that is not always a nice whim to be at the mercy of.