3- Hello from Ivuna

What to do when there's so much that has happened that you can't even
begin to figure out how to write an update?!  Where to start, what's
most important, what can be overlooked.  Those questions and more are
exactly what I'm wrestling with right now, and I have a feeling this
will a long update, and I'll totally understand if it bores you. :)

I'll start with some verses I just read in Psalm 27... “The Lord is my
light and my salvation: whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the strength
of my life: of whom shall I be afraid? … for in the time of trouble He
shall hide me in His pavilion: in the secret of His tabernacle shall
He hide me: He shall set me up upon a rock.  And now my head shall
mine head be lifted up above mine enemies around about me: therefore
will I offer in his tabernacle sacrifices of joy: I will sing, yea, I
will sing praises unto the Lord. … Hide not thy face far from me: put
not thy servant away in anger: thou hast been my help; leave me not,
neither forsake me, O God of my salvation … Teach my Thy way Oh Lord,
and lead me in a plain path. … Wait on the Lord and be of good
courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the
Lord.”

 I am understanding the cry of David's heart in this Psalm, as I've
felt very much the same way.  I find myself asking God many times for
His strength, His presence, and His peace that comes from hiding in
His pavilion, even when my enemies are round about me.  And what might
these enemies be?   One of the biggest ones I'm facing right now is
the overwhelming feeling of so many needs.  I've prayed often that God
would fill my heart with His heart for these people.  I've begged Him
to feel the pain He feels as He looks upon the wickedness and sin that
is rampant among the people of this village.  I want to feel the beat
of His heart, I want my heart to break with what is breaking His
heart.  That prayer is being answered, but I'm finding myself carrying
that burden and not committing it to the Lord as I should.  Pray for
me, that I will know how to balance keeping this burden alive in my
heart, yet not allowing it to sap the joy from my life.

The needs are enormous here in Ivuna.  I know we're only in one small
part of this huge globe, and these people are only a handful compared
to the rest of the world, but God loves these people dearly.  He
created them, sent His Son to die for them, and now He watches them
living their lives steeped in wickedness, and many who have a dead
form of religion.  My heart cries for these people to find freedom-
which can only come through a personal relationship with the King of
Kings. It's one thing to know there are people in Africa who live in
polygamy, who beat their wives so hard that sometimes they die, where
life is cheap, children are a bother, and strong drink is the main
“go-to” for everyone.  It's quite another to have these things
happening to your friends and your neighbors.  It's no longer faceless
African's, but eyes that bore deep into your soul, pleading for
something more. The hopelessness, the despair, the anger...it breaks
my heart.

One example is our neighbor man, who just brought his 5th wife home.
She's a young girl with huge, sad eyes, who has tried several times to
run away.  My heart breaks for her as I put myself in her shoes.
Imagine being wife number five to an old man, and not being much more
then 18.  Imagine being forced into this marriage with absolutely NO
say in the matter.  Imagine being beaten severely because you tried to
run away.  I live right next door and desperately wish I could speak
her language so I could at least befriend her.  But for now, I learn
as fast as I can, and smile to show her I care.

A friend of ours has been living in a dangerous position spiritually
and morally, and we find ourselves with him and his wife often on our
minds in prayer.  I look at him and his potential, and find myself
crying out to God that he would raise this man up to be a warrior for
the Kingdom.  Pray for Zanobi, his wife Joyce, and their adorable
little girl, Beatrice.  Pray that he would make choices that reflect a
true hunger and thirst for truth and righteousness.

How about the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach after you've
just completed a positive pregnancy test and they promptly inform you
that they don't want this baby and are going to do an abortion.
Rebecca pleaded with her to not complete the abortion and to think
about what she was doing, but we don't know if our pleas fell on deaf
ears or not.  I felt sick on my stomach for a long time after that.  I
know abortions happen every day, but it's a bit different when it's
one of your patients who just received the positive test from you.

On the flip side of the coin, I have a positive story to share!
Monday morning was a very busy clinic morning, and my when my last
patient walked in, I was feeling mentally worn out.  My patient was a
young woman who wanted a prenatal.  As I did it for her, and found the
heartbeat of her fetus on my doppler, the look of joy and perfect
delight on her face and expressed through her words encouraged me
incredibly.  She told us that NOW she can believe she's actually
pregnant, and she was so happy! It was so delightful to have someone
who was actually excited about a new life!  After she went out, her
husband came in and asked if it really is true that we could hear
something that the baby was doing inside.  He was very delighted and a
bit skeptical when we assured him that we can hear the baby's
heartbeat.  When his wife returned from getting change for us at
Kilabuni, we invited them back in and I used the doppler to find the
heartbeat again.  The father of the baby leaned in close as I searched
for the beat, and as soon as it came clearly across the speaker, his
face lit up and he bent in closer, totally enthralled in the sound of
the heartbeat of his first child.  Pray for them.  Michael and
Elizabeth are Roman Catholic, and something about the spark in their
eyes tells me that they have more then just a dead form of religion.
Pray that God will draw them to Himself and that they will raise their
family to fear the true God.

This past Saturday we hired two piki-piki's (motorcycles) and went to
the next village to attend a traditional celebration of some Maasai
friends of Rebecca's.  It was a new experience to find myself immersed
into a scene that felt more like it came from some missionary
biography instead of me actually living the moment!  As we arrived, we
were greeted excitedly from very traditionally dressed women.  We were
ushered into the house where immediately a strange, raunchy smell
wafted through our nostrils.  Inside the house, on both sides of the
door, lay at least 3 butchered cows in all their gory glory.  Heads
lay off to one side, and on the other side, skin was laid out, hair
side down, and the rest of the delicacies unceremoniously piled on
top. A large, healthy crop of flies swooped and landed, buzzing loudly
as they enjoyed their endless feast.
        We were greeted by streams of beautiful Maasai women dressed in their
traditional dark purple and royal blue wraps tied over the one
shoulder.  I was struck again with the strength and beauty of these
woman.  And once again, I was a bit ashamed of my own wimpy American
self!   We were served chai and chapati, and eventually taken down the
trail a bit to where the traditional dancing was taking place. We
watched with fascination as the scenes unfolded.  The men jump
straight up and down over and over to the beat of the music they're
making with their mouths.  It sounded somewhat like the beat of far
off, approaching drums.  Close by, the women sang and danced slowly to
their own rhythm.  It was exactly like you would read about in
storybooks of old time African tribes.  The main differences were the
presence of cell phones and piki-piki's, which looked strangely out of
place surrounded by people in traditional garb.
        Sometime toward late afternoon we were served a feast of seasoned
rice and beef.  I laid aside my qualms and ended up really enjoying
the meat, even tho the pile of it's counterparts were becoming
steadily more odorous behind us. After eating, we watched the dancing
for quite awhile more before our piki's came back to pick us up and
take us home.  I feel blessed to have been able to catch a glimpse
into the lives of one of the semi-nomadic tribes that live in the bush
around our village.

We've enjoyed a lot of good times as a group as well.  With four girls
living together, you can imagine that there's never a dull moment!
Late night talks, inside jokes, laughing till the tears are
streaming... it seems like anything we do becomes a party! It will
change tho in just 2 weeks when Rachel and Rebecca return to America
for a 3 ½ month furlough. I will miss them terribly, and the challenge
of carrying on the work will fall on the shoulder's of Trudy and I.
It's hard not being able to communicate well, but I'm excited as I
find myself steadily picking up more of the conversations around me.
Tim and Sheryl and their family returned to the village just over a
week ago after spending 2 weeks in town, and we have been thankful to
have their lively family back again.

Wednesday, late afternoon, I had a patient come in who said she was in
labor.  Her baby was lying transverse, and without a lot of high tech
equipment, I had really had no way of knowing exactly how hard her
labor was and how fast it was trying to progress.  All I could think
of was that this was a strong, young Sukuma woman who handle pain very
well, and if she says she in labor and looks very uncomfortable as her
labor pain come and go, then I didn't want to take any chances.  We
made it very clear that she must go to the big hospital in town
tonight yet, and to make a long story short, we ended up taking her
out in Tim's Land Rover.  Now, town trips are usually well thought out
and planned for quite a while in advance, and for Zach, Beka, and I to
have packed overnight bags, loaded up a patient and some family
members in less then an hour and be on the road, was a crazy feeling!
About a half hour from our village, we were stopped in another village
waiting for her husband to join us, and I decided to do another
doppler check.  The heart beat was still in the previous position and
the baby hadn't moved at all.  Finally, we were able to load up
everyone who needed to come along, and away we sped.  Sped? Well,
maybe, but maybe not.  Those bumpy roads are nigh impossible to speed
over, especially in the big, burly Land Rover.  It got dark pretty
fast, which increased the stress level, and I felt bad for Zach, who
had the “privilege” of being ambulance driver.
        We arrived at the hospital around 11:30 pm, and took her right into
the labor and delivery ward where they examined her...only to find
that her baby had turned during that awful ride to town, and now was
in perfect position.  I had very conflicting feelings about then...one
part of me was thrilled she wouldn't have to endure a c-section,
another part kinda wished she wouldn't have been totally out of danger
because it made me look like I didn't know what I was talking about!
I just couldn't help but feel that I had made the right decision based
on where everything stood at the time, and I'm trying not to doubt
myself.
        By that time, we were exhausted, even more so as I handed the
responsibility over to higher trained personnel, and our 20 minute
drive to the next town where fellow missionaries live was a bit
comical.  It was after 1:00 till we crashed for what was left of our
short night.  The next morning we enjoyed a delicious breakfast that
Anna prepared, enjoyed catching up with the missionary team in Mbeya
for a few minutes, then Beka and I headed back to get a lorry to the
village.  We arrived home around 7:30pm.  We were still trying to
process that we had made the strenous trip to town, and now w we were
home again! (Zach returned on a lorry the next day, and our Land Rover
is planning to return next week when Melvin comes back to the village
to bring some more supplies for the water tower he is helping put in
here.)

Friday morning, Beka and I were still very worn out.  I was still
exhausted physically, and mentally the thought of having to meet one
person made me want to weep.  Beka wisely suggested we shut up the
house and go down to our church building where we can lock the door
and spend some quiet time for a few hours.  So that we did.  We packed
up our journals, laptops, and Bibles and sat down there.  Slowly, as I
journalled and processed the happenings of the past few days, I began
feeling my brain clearing up and the cobwebs disappeared.  We talked
for awhile, laughed a bit, and drank African masala chai together and
finally I was ready to face life again.  I'm so thankful for renewing!

Not all days are that adventurous, thank the Lord! Lots of time is
spent in language study, washing laundry by hand, carrying buckets of
water for our daily needs, eating, and spending time with people.  I
have been finding myself falling hopelessly in love with this place
and the people who live here.  Sometimes I feel pretty sure I never
want to leave.  :)  Of course, I don't know what God's will is for the
future, but for now, I feel VERY thankful that this is where He has
called me.  There's a wonderful team to work with, beautiful people to
learn to know, and a language that is slowly beginning to make sense.
There's the simplicity of the dusty village, the beautiful blue sky,
the colorful patterns of the women's kanga's.  Yes, there are a lot of
needs and pain this village, but every day is touched with the beauty
of the handiwork of God, and His love is declared through it all.

Pray for us, that the name of the Lord be magnified.
Kim